Sharpe fans will love this old-fashioned historical epic
Shōgun (Disney+) is a gloriously oldfashioned TV drama, and not just because it brings back memories of the 1980s version starring Richard Chamberlain. This remake may have glossy, 21st-century production values but it’s still the kind of historical epic in which the men are tough, the women look like Bond girls, and Japanese warlords boil people alive.
The year is 1600, and a ship drifts towards the Japanese coast carrying the dregs of its malnourished crew. They all appear at death’s door except John Blackthorne (Cosmo Jarvis), for he is the hero of the tale and bears a passing resemblance to Tom Hardy.
The men are promptly taken prisoner. The Japanese are unwelcoming; so are the Portuguese Catholics, who don’t want these Protestant Englishmen muscling in on trade. But Blackthorne, regarded by his captors as a “barbarian”, has stumbled into a power struggle between various Japanese rulers, and by degrees proves himself to be of use.
James Clavell’s novel provides rich source material and magnificently retro dialogue. “We’ve endured pestilence, known starvation; we’ve chewed the calfskin that covers the ropes. We should be corpses by now but here we are – 12 s--t-smelling but generally able-bodied Protestant scoundrels on a mission against a savage horde and the entire, goddamn, motherless, s--t-picking Portuguese fleet. This is not where we die,” Blackthorne growls at his men. If you miss the days of Sean Bean swearing in Sharpe, this series is for you.
Where this adaptation differs from the 1980s version is in the amount of time it gives to the Japanese characters. We are no longer viewing the story only from Blackthorne’s perspective, but observing all sides. Long stretches are subtitled, but that’s no longer a barrier in this age of global streamers.
Hiroyuki Sanada brings gravitas to the role of Lord Toranaga, while Tadanobu Asano is a stand-out as the sly Yabushige, a warrior nominally loyal to Toranaga but with an eye for the main chance.
The adaptation falls short of greatness. At times it feels too dense – too much talking about feudal politics when there should be more action. Jarvis, although charismatic, has an edge of wry humour in his voice that doesn’t always fit the circumstances. But the production looks magnificent. And the strength of Shōgun is the way that it immerses us in a world that, with its rituals and violence, feels as foreign to us as it does to Blackthorne. This is not a series for the lily-livered, and is all the better for that.
What goes on in a jury room? Perhaps, if you’ve never done jury service, you imagine it to be a rigorous process in which 12 people take account of nothing but the facts.
The Jury: Murder Trial (Channel 4) will quickly disabuse you of that notion.
Honestly, it’s fascinating. This is how juries actually reach their decision: by bringing their prejudices and life experiences to the courtroom, judging the defendant according to their personal set of rules, and often letting their heart rule their head. Judges and barristers will watch the whole thing through their fingers.
The four-part series re-enacts a real-life murder case using actors, with only the names changed (although it’s not difficult to look up the actual case using the details given in the programme). The defendant, a sculptor here known as “John”, admits that he killed his wife with a hammer. The prosecution say this was murder; the defence argue that the killing was manslaughter due to loss of control.
There are two juries, each unaware of the other’s existence, so we can see if they reach the same verdict. It’s unclear how Channel 4 chose the 24 people involved, and if their particular back stories formed part of the selection process. One man reveals, in a later episode, that he could understand the dynamic between the defendant and victim because his own wife was once so mad with him during a row that she got in the car and ran him over. Another member cannot grasp the concept that the defendant might not be telling the truth. There’s plenty of judgment, too, of the victim in this case. “She didn’t deserve to die,” someone says, “but she was asking for it.”
With people convinced that they are amazing judges of character, and deliberations dominated by the strongest personalities, it reminded me of The Traitors. The unknowable element, of course, is whether they would have behaved like this in a real court of law rather than the confines of a television experiment. Nevertheless, it’s a riveting study of group dynamics which may make you feel a little less confident in the workings of the British justice system.
Shōgun ★★★★ The Jury: Murder Trial ★★★★