Booty: Perfect Bookends

A quick one today as I've lots of business to attend to. I want to share, though.

Behold, these amazing bookends from the good folks over at the ever fabulous Fab dot com. Made by the otherwise mid-century modern folks at Daily General, these sturdy metal bookends are painted an appealing shade of charcoal. The detailed galleon on both brings to mind the days of the buccaneers on the Spanish Main. Just the perfect pieces to hold your General History of Pyrates or perhaps those swashbucklers featuring Errol Flynn.

My thanks to my friend Eric Grant who sent me the link via Twitter. That's what friends are for! (Follow him here.)

Happy Friday, Brethren! We'll spy ye tomorrow for SMS.

Booty: In the Footsteps of Rogues

This post is meta all around, but it also gives you a nice hint at an historical diversion should you find yourself in New Orleans this month or next.

New Orleans dot com is currently offering their Pirates, Passions and Patriots Walking Tour. The tour began on International Talk Like A Pirate Day and runs for a full month through October 21st. As described on the website, the tour allows you to "roam the streets of the French Quarter at night with a lively, local tour guide who will spin the tale of how Lafitte [sic] and his marauding band of misfits came to the city's rescue in the Battle of New Orleans."

Really, what better way to spend an evening in the Big Easy? Don't forget, Brethren, you can stop in at Pat O'Brien's and get a hurricane in a go cup so you're walkin' and drinkin' all at the same time. As they say on the NFL network, it's serious fun!

I'm sorry but I would love to be that lively, local tour guide. Although I probably wouldn't exactly follow the script. Being a descendant of a key member of that marauding band of misfits, I don't tend to cotton to the usual legendary stuff. The historical truth is so much more interesting.

So be sure to take the tour if you're in the Crescent City before 10/21. Tell 'em Pauline (or Captain Swallow to whom I am indebted for the info on the walking tour) sent ya.

And so ends Triple P's one thousandth post. This is a milestone I never imagined reaching when I started this blog in 2009. Now, all I can imagine is going forward. Happy Friday, Brethren!

Header: Yul Brynner (a relative of our very own Timmy!) rehearsing for his role as Jean Laffite in the movie "The Buccaneer" via LIFE photo archives

Movies: Jack Aubrey Commands

Over at The Dear Surprise, Monday saw The Dear Knows posting a thesis on leadership theory entitled “Mastering Leadership Reflexes: A Case Study of Captain Aubrey”. Of course, all it takes is the last two words of that title to get any O’Brian fan going. Needless to say I read the whole thing. Twice.


The paper is fascinating as a stand-alone evaluation of Russell West’s 2004 piece “A Reflex Model of Leadership Development” published in the Journal of Religious Leadership. It layers the groundwork of West’s theory with the command skills of the fictional character John Aubrey, RN as portrayed, not in O’Brian’s fiction, but in the movie Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World.

Before I go any further, I feel compelled to point out that the co-authors of the thesis are all members of evangelical Christian churches. Though it is not my habit to discuss my personal feelings on religion here at Triple P, I must say first and foremost that this was a stumbling block for me in evaluating the material. I could not, in all fairness, get past the thought that the examples and information put forth would be used to manipulate people into a devotion to a business model that wears the vestments of spirituality. This is purely an honest, upfront admission on my part so that anyone reading my analysis will know that I come to the material with a bias.

Well, more than one bias if I’m honest. The authors rely entirely on Jack Aubrey the character as portrayed in the Peter Weir film. There is no reference to O’Brian and certainly no reference to the historical accuracy which was so important to that author. I won’t go through the piece line-by-line as that would be a crazy insult to the Brethren, but allow me to point out a few issues which jumped out at me.

A specific juxtaposition is made by the authors under the heading of “The Ethical Consideration Reflex.” Here they point to Aubrey’s ability to “… make right choices in ethically muddled situations…” One is the scene where in able seaman Worley is lost over the side of Surprise during a storm. Part of a mast is torn away and it begins to drag the ship down, as the line in the movie says, “like a sea anchor.” Aubrey makes the decision to cut the mast’s rigging, freeing the ship but dooming Worley to death by drowning. The second is Aubrey’s decision to suspend the pursuit of Acheron in favor of making landfall so that his friend, Stephen Maturin, can be saved vis-à-vis removal of a bullet from his abdomen.

These “right choices” are perhaps not so black and white outside of the context of the movie – particularly in the second case. While saving the many over the one is an almost textbook military leadership choice, saving the personal friend over duty, ship and crew is quite another thing. This is not, one must be thankful to say, a choice that Aubrey was required to make in O’Brian’s series but it is a choice faced by military leaders throughout history. Would John Aubrey, however fictional he may be, have made the choice of friend over duty? We probably would like to think that the answer would be yes but, based on the historical record, it is more likely “maybe.”

Another glaring issue for me was the authors argument under “Collaborative Reflex”, wherein they assert that Aubrey “develops camaraderie with his executive team…” and “… creates an environment in which [the crew] work together using their individual strengths and abilities to accomplish a common goal.”

Indeed, and again on the face of it, Aubrey is a cheerful “friendly” leader, willing to allow men to do what they are best at without hovering while showing compassion in times of injury, illness or death. Unfortunately this is not as uncommon, historically speaking, as the authors might like to imagine.

Aside from the likes of captains such as Bligh and Pigot, who created hells afloat, most naval leaders were and are aware of the confinement of their situation. There truly is nowhere to go in the middle of the ocean and it is not only the leaders but the men who must trust in and encourage one another in order to ensure that everyone not only gets home safe, but successful as well. Making repairs at sea, changing approach rather than sticking to “orders”, promoting or disciplining individuals as necessary and so much more would have not only been required but expected.

The idea of camaraderie was a feature of Jack’s personality as penned by O’Brian. He was very much a captain who needed a particular friend like Stephen Maturin. In stark contrast, and to stay within the realm of fiction, C.S. Forester’s Horatio Hornblower is very much “the man alone.” He may consult and dine with his lieutenants, but in the final analysis he will decide the fate of his ship and her souls. I wonder what the authors of this piece might make of Hornblower as his leadership style in the BBC dramatizations of Forester’s works relates to West’s theory.

Of course there is so much more to consider but I may already have worn out my welcome. Click over and read the piece yourself. If you’re so inclined, let me know what you think. I’d particularly like to hear from you O’Brian scholars; you know who you are.

Header: Russell Crowe as Jack Aubrey in Master and Commander

Booty: Very Inspiring Blogger

To my surprise, indeed I might say amazement, Susan Ardelie who pens the fabulously entertaining Life Takes Lemons blog rendered me speechless yesterday. She bestowed upon Triple P the VIB: Very Inspiring Blogger award. Now if that don’t beat all.


Once I regained my capacity for intelligent communication, I read over the rules, rolled up my sleeves and resolved that now that someone so generous has given the nod to my work it’s time to do the same. Here’s how this goes: I am to offer up seven random facts about myself and then extend the VIB nomination to seven of my favorite blogs and bloggers. While you may prefer to skip over the first bit, Brethren, stick around for the second which will be an eclectic mix of some of the most interesting, well-researched and talent-filled spots that I’m aware of on the Interwebs.

Indulge me as I begin with the egoism:

I am a demonology nerd. I actually enjoy bending over 15th and 16th century books and cataloguing demons with which I am unfamiliar.

My secret wish is to die in New Orleans, preferably during Second Line season.

I have Menier’s syndrome, which means that my inner ear doesn’t always register correctly and I can become unsteady or dizzy suddenly. The symptoms disappear in a moving vehicle and especially on the water.

The first book I remember reading was Tales of Mystery and Imagination by Edgar A. Poe. I think I was six.

I was an insurance executive in a past life.

My favorite movie of all time is Spartacus staring Kirk Douglas, Tony Curtis, Jean Simmons, Laurence Olivier and Peter Ustinov.

I have a familial affinity for corvids, particularly ravens and crows with whom I regularly converse to the utter humiliation of my children.

And now, with my sincerest endorsement and in no particular order, allow me to extend the VIB nomination to:

Munin’s Sketch Blog: Munin is an incredibly talented artist whose work has been featured at Triple P on more than one occasion. It is easy to get lost in the amazing worlds he creates.

The Dear Surprise: The Dear Knows writes one of the most informative blogs on the web. Not only will you learn about Patrick O’Brian’s Aubrey/Maturin series, you will indeed be immersed in the era of wooden ships and iron men.

The Horror!? Denis, who was gracious enough to do a guest post for Triple P’s last anniversary, is probably the best reviewer of movies on the web. The fact that he reviews horror, sci-fi and fantasy movies just makes it that much better. Plus, he’s an Eldritch Being so there’s that.

The World of Edgar Allan Poe: I cannot say enough about my dear friend Undine and her ongoing endeavor to expose us all to the truths about the great American genius. In her spare time, she’s a veritable C. Auguste Dupin of the literary netherworld.

Hawkman’s Blog: If you are a lover of comics, New England seaports, tough workouts, appliance destruction and opinion, look no further than Hawkman’s well written, thoughtful blog.

Pirates & Letters: The beautiful work of your hostess Marika is truly indescribable. Her calligraphy and attention to detail are breathtaking.

The Journal of Blue Lou Logan: Lou is someone I truly admire. He lives what he writes, teaching kids and grown-ups about what pirates and piracy were really like while still holding down a day job and writing a well-researched, engaging blog.

Happy Friday, Brethren! I hope that you spend a little bit of it enjoying these wonderful websites as much as I do.

Horror on the High Seas: Flashback Lunch

My current schedule is a little off, Brethren, but I did want to kick off Triple P's third annual Horror on the High Seas week so that we can get a full seven days under our belts, so to say.  No new post today but lets start things off right with my dear friend House in Rlyeh's gripping review of the horror classic The Ghost Ship generously gifted to Triple P for her second anniversary.  Grab your lunch, sit back and enjoy.  Then click on the Horror on the High Seas label below for yet more terrifying flashbacks.  Tomorrow, something new: the mystery of the lost Vergulde Draeck.

Header: The Ghost Ship, a new interpretation by Bryan J. Toy via Elfwood

Movies: The Ghost Ship

Well, Brethren, the wheel has turned again and almost surprisingly Triple P has reached the ripe old age of two. I think that makes her 14 in “dog years”. As a special gift to all who stop by and especially to say thank you to the Brethren of the Coast for sailing in company, a guest post is in order. From one of my favorite writers on the web or anywhere else for that matter, a movie review with a seafaring bent. Find House in Rlyeh aka Denis, who is an esteemed member of the Mysterious Order of the Skeleton Suit, delving into much more than just movies over at his delightful site The Horror!? and occasionally at WTF-Film. You can also follow him on Twitter. Today, though, he’s right here; enjoy!


When our gracious host Pauline first asked me to contribute a post to her blogging anniversary on Triple P, I was in a bit of internal panic. After all, what business does a guy who hasn't even read all Aubrey/Maturin novels have on a blog as encyclopaedically knowledgeable about all things nautical and piratical as Pauline's is?

Obviously, the business of talking about a movie that takes place on the sea, because if there's one thing I can go on and on and on about, it's movies. But even here, I found myself confronted by a problem: talking about some classic swashbuckler would be a bit boring, but going the other way - in the direction of true non-classics - would only lead directly into the arms of Ship of Zombies, the by far worst of the Blind Dead movies, and that's not a film I want to inflict on anybody via a guest blog, especially not on an anniversary.

Fortunately, one of my secret favourite movies came to the rescue in form of Val Lewton's production of Mark Robson's The Ghost Ship, made in 1943. Now, Lewton's stint with the b-movie arm of RKO studios has resulted in a small but fantastic corpus of horror films of a type that was much more psychologically oriented and ambiguous than its contemporaries (and much less ruined by comic relief and an obvious hatred of the audience for such films as were - for example - Universal's films of the same type at the time). Today, the most well-known film of these is of course Jacques Tourneur's Cat People, but The Ghost Ship's Mark Robson's The Seventh Victim (also made in 1943) is just as fine a movie.

The Ghost Ship for its part is not quite up to the standards of mood and subtlety of those films, although it is still a fine and thoughtful piece of work.

Orphan Tom Merriam (Russell Wade) arrives at his first post at sea (beyond duty on training ships) as the 3rd Officer of the Altair under Captain Will Stone (Richard Dix). Though their journey together starts with a bad omen in form of the death of an older seaman, Tom is quite happy with his new position and his new Captain. Stone seems to have taken an instant liking to the young man, and delights him with quite a few fatherly monologues about the nature of authority. Actually, someone less positive (or naive) than Tom could argue that Stone is somewhat obsessed with the concept of authority and tends to the monolithical side of the idea that sees a captain at sea taking on a role comparable to that of an absolute monarch or a dictator on land.

When push inevitably comes to shove, Tom learns that his Captain's much-loved "authority" is one that is only interested in bathing in its own perceived perfection and has little time for minor quibbles like the life and limbs of his crew. At first, it is only minor (yet, the sea being a dangerous place, still dangerous) things that could make Tom doubt the Captain's competence or - perhaps - even his sanity, and it's really more the spin Stone puts on things than what he actually does or doesn't do that keeps the viewer more uncomfortable with him than the young man is.

But when Stone isn't able to make the necessary incisions in a (radio-supported) appendix operation on a crewman, and Tom has to take the scalpel, the young officer begins to doubt his new-found father figure. Even so, Tom still asks the only witness to the whole affair, his (just as new-found) friend the radio operator Sparks (Edmund Glover), not to tell anyone who really took on the operation in the end. Not everyone can take looking at blood, after all, and there's no shame in that.

Stone explains the situation to Tom a bit differently, though: as somebody without any expertise in medicine, he was afraid to fail in saving the crewman's life. Although he's not completely able to ignore the fact that not trying the operation would have damned the sick man to death in any case, and though he probably perceives that the unspoken undercurrent of Stone's behaviour suggests he's much more afraid of being seen as fallible than of failure itself, Tom still seems to waver in his opinion about Stone.

Things change rather quickly when the ship's resident sea lawyer is crushed by the anchor chain shortly after he delivered a minor complaint to his captain. The audience knows this death is at least caused by Stone's negligence (and might just have been murder), but that's not something anyone else in the crew realizes - except for Tom, who meets Stone practically next to the dead body. The Captain is all too ready to deliver a slightly deranged monologue that would convince anyone that he had something to do with the sailor's death. Tom at least is now sure that Stone is a homicidal maniac, and he's not afraid of telling him or anyone else about it. Alas, nobody on board the ship does believe him.

Once back in port, the young man tries to convince the authorities of his shipping line of Stone's guilt, but - not surprisingly - only loses his position on the Altair.

And that could be the end, with a slightly damaged career for Tom and Stone still captain of his ship, ready to crack any day now, if an unfortunate accident would not leave our young hero back on board the Altair. Tom's inability to keep his head down and Stone's growing paranoia mean that the whole affair will end in violence.

As the synopsis should make clear, Robson's film isn't exactly the horror film one would suspect. The ghost ship of its title is a metaphorical one, describing the state of isolation that is the part of his position as a Captain that is responsible of driving Stone to the brink of madness, but also describing the comparable isolation Tom - as an orphan and a man without friends or companionship on land - is in, as well as the young officer's later isolation on board the Altair when nobody wants to believe what he knows to be true about Stone until it is nearly too late for him.

The film uses its sea-bound setting as the perfect place to take a close look at the horrors that arise from a blind trust in authority (obviously quite timely in 1943, and unfortunately quite timely again today) in a way that reminded me at times heavily of Joseph Conrad. The isolation and strict structures of life at sea are a backdrop that makes the film's themes all the more clear.

The Ghost Ship isn't satisfied with only using Tom and Stone as elements to build an allegory from, though. The film is also an early example of the psychological thriller, and as such, it is actually interested in its protagonist and its antagonist as people, and not just as parts in its philosophical machine. Not only is Tom a much more believable hero than one is used to from films of its era, but Stone, too, is more than just a eye-rolling maniac, which is not at all what I expect to find in a film made in 1943 (or today, for that matter), even though Val Lewton's productions were often more willing to admit the humanity of the mentally ill than any of their peers.

The Ghost Ship takes its time to show Stone as a man who knows he's losing touch with reality, but just can't find any way to get his grip again; asking for help is obviously right out for someone with his particular mental problems.

Given how loaded the film is with subtext and ideas (I've actually left out a whole line of thought about the complicity of people under authority with the abuse of authority in this post, among other things), it's not much of a surprise that it does from time to time waver under this weight. The Ghost Ship's first two acts are somewhat slow and ponderous and very talky - a state of affairs that isn't exactly helped by a certain theatricality of the acting I haven't seen in any of the other Lewton productions I know - and the "thrilling" parts (as well realized by Robson as I'd expected him to) only begin once Tom is back on the Altair. The surface excitement is just the sugar to let The Ghost Ship's themes go down more easily.

My most heartfelt appreciation goes to Denis for this wonderful addition to my humble blog’s repertoire. If you liked it as much as I did, hop over to The Horror!? and hit the follow button. Trust me; there’s plenty more where that came from.


Finally, a big thank you to all who have supported Triple P over the course of her evolution, which is still in progress. Let us spread all canvas, Brethren, and sail forth into another piratical year! After all, there is not a moment to lose.


Header: Poster for The Ghost Ship

Booty: Ask the Captain

Over at one of my favorite websites The Dear Surprise, Royal Navy expert, student of O’Brian and particular friend The Dear Knows has put out a call to readers. The subject could not be dearer to my heart and I’m hoping that some of the Brethren would like to participate as well.


The Dear, who is very worldly indeed, has a connection (or as Stephen Maturin might write in some encoded missive, “connextion”) with none other than the man who helped to train the cast of Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World in all things seamanlike, Captain Andrew Reay-Ellers. The Captain is willing to answer questions regarding the movie’s production, which The Dear will then post. Such opportunities rarely come along for fans of films, O’Brian and/or seafaring and as such they should not be passed up.

Do you hurry over to The Dear Surprise and post your question(s) in the comments (where you will find mine already waiting eagerly). Then be sure to favorite or follow for not only the answers but future updates to this wonderfully informative corner of the web as well.

Happy Friday one and all; and tomorrow it is Sailor Mouth Saturday.

Header: Peter Weir on the set of M & C

Movies: The Other Dark Waterfowl

As luck would have it, I was casting about Monday afternoon to find something to watch on TV while I exercised. To my delight, TCM offered up the 1942 pirate film The Black Swan, and just in time, too.

The Black Swan takes its name from one of the pirate ships in the story and is very loosely based on the book by that master of freebooting adventure, Gabriel Sabotini. Though the history involved is atrocious, the action is fun and the actors are really into their roles as gentlemen, rogues and one particularly feisty redhead.

The movie opens with our hero, Jamie Waring (Tyrone Power) being tortured on the rack in a Jamaican prison. There is never any beating around the bush about Jamie’s being a pirate. He has sailed with all the greats out of Tortuga, including the infamous Henry Morgan. So Jamie is as surprised as anyone when a pack of old mates burst in and rescues him, bringing with them the news that Morgan has been made Governor of Jamaica. Of course the outgoing Governor is a prize ass but, to Jamie’s delight, his daughter Margaret Denby (Maureen O’Hara), is as hot as a Tortuga boucan.

While Morgan, who is so aptly portrayed by Laird Cregar that I feel compelled to share this picture:

Is being sworn in as Governor, Jamie tries to woo Lady Denby. She’ll have none of it, of course, as she is engaged to the foppish Roger Ingram whose penchant for super-curly wigs is off-putting at best. Little does anyone know that Ingram is secretly feeding one of Jamie’s old mates information about English treasure ships. The pirate in question, red-bearded William “Billy” Leech (George Sanders), attacks and sacks the ships and turns over a tidy portion to Ingram. Because Leech is a known associate of Morgan’s, the English Crown threatens to unseat the new Governor is Leech isn’t caught and hanged.

Jamie Waring, who has friends awaiting him at Maracaibo, takes it upon himself to undo both Leech and Ingram. He first kidnaps Margaret Denby, because he can’t see her married to a traitor, and then sets off in ship in the hopes of reuniting with his mates and then facing Leech at sea. His plans are thwarted almost immediately. Lady Margaret is a hellcat who won’t put up with Jamie’s continuous insistence that she will one day fall in love with him. To add insult to injury, Jamie’s ship is overtaken by Leech’s Black Swan and Jamie must convince the suspicious Leech both that he has come to join Leech in his pillaging and that he has brought his new wife, the former Lady Denby, along with him.

Meanwhile Morgan has made it to Maracaibo, where talented belly dancers entertain Jaimie’s friends while they wait for him. Morgan is under the impression that Jamie has turned against him and joined Leech voluntarily. He will wait for the rogue in Maracaibo and then drag him back to Jamaica to hang for piracy and kidnapping.

Leech figures out Jamie’s ruse by noting that “Mrs. Waring” is none too fond of her new groom. He ties up Jamie and locks his crew below decks, then sails both ships into Maracaibo, guns blazing. Jamie and his mates get loose, of course, and the climactic battle with cutlasses and boarding axes ensues aboard the Black Swan. Jamie cuts Leech down but is badly wounded himself, leading Lady Margaret to succumb to his gallantry. When Morgan shows up bellowing about treacherous Jamie Waring, Margaret sets him straight and even says she came with him of her own free will.

And so all is set to rights. Morgan (who repeatedly speaks of others as poor sailors) takes Jamie and Margaret back to Jamaica. In the last scene, aboard ship, Margaret is wearing piratical breeches and headgear and swearing at “Jamie-boy” for being out of his “bunk”. As the sky burns red behind them, the couple fall into each other’s arms at last. The End.

Of course Morgan never sailed out of Tortuga and was Lieutenant Governor of Jamaica, not Governor proper. He was also, as we’ve discussed before, a horrid sailor who would just as soon march overland as look at a ship. Though the gentlemen’s costumes fit the movie’s time frame (1674), Lady Margaret’s wardrobe looks a lot more Madame de Pompadour than Nell Gwynne. The final slap to historical accuracy comes with repeated scenes showing the Union Jack waving boldly above the Governor’s House in Jamaica. Since Britain did not adopt that flag – and then only with the Jack itself in the canton on a blue field – until the early 18th century, you get the feeling the movie makers weren’t even trying.

The production is lovely, though, and the story is full of appropriate swash and buckle. It’s worth a look if you have a chance, Brethren. One should always experience a pirate movie when they have a chance.

Movies: Rum On TV

Just to clarify before we start, Triple P doesn’t really have a “TV” title so we’re stuck with Movies.

I had an informative piece all thought out for today and, as I settled in last night to do a bit of research for same, all that changed. My habit on Tuesdays, nay indeed my chiseled-in-stone must do, is to watch “Dirty Jobs” on the Discovery Channel. I don’t watch episodic TV at all and, aside from football during the season, I don’t really have any shows I just can’t miss (although “Deadliest Warrior” on Spike might actually be one if I’m honest). That said, I don’t miss Mike Rowe on “Dirty Jobs”. So imagine my surprise – and delight – when last night’s episode was all about making rum.

And not just any rum, Brethren, but a rum named after the infamous “Rhode Island Pirate” Thomas Tew. The label features Tew’s menacing flag (above) and the rum’s manufacturer, Newport Distilling Company, is itself in Rhode Island. Find out more about them at their website.

Of course there were many an off-handed reference to pirates and piracy but what struck me the most was Mike and his crew’s willingness to drink like pirates. The company also runs Coastal Extreme Brewing Company and Mike and his colleagues sampled their Newport Storm Beer to kick off the morning. Sure, it was 8:30 in Rhode Island but damned if the sun’s not over the yardarm somewhere, mate. This was all done under the auspices of a specific brewer’s privilege which evidently dates back to Colonial times and whose name Mike mentioned more than once but your humble hostess didn’t bother to write down. Leave me a comment if you know what it’s called; I’ll make a note of it.

Update: Triple P's good friend Timmy! tells us the right to drink beer while working at a brewery is known as "The Sternewirth Privilege", so now we know. Thankee, Timmy!

At any rate, as the day wore on Mike began sampling the rum and became – for lack of a better phrase – a very happy pirate. Of interest to pirates of the New World, though, is the fact that the folks at Newport Distilling Company are bringing back an old tradition of rum making in Rhode Island. In the last half of the 18th century Rhode Island could count over 20 rum distilleries within its boarders at any given time. Thomas Tew is hand crafted, made with molasses and aged on site in oak barrels just like the kind of rum its namesake pirate would have been accustomed to. While Thomas Tew rum is not currently available outside of its home state, the company hopes to change that within the next couple of years.

Here are four videos from the show over at Discovery’s website (the "Alcohol Pop Quiz" is particularly funny). Waste a few minutes today watching the way rum used to be made, and then raise a tankard to our ancestors and those who are keeping the old ways alive, by land and at sea. Oh and raise one to Mike and his crew as well. They’re clearly good and game lads one and all.

Seafaring Sunday: The Buccaneer

And here, to round out Baratarian Week, the before the Battle of New Orleans scene from the 1958 version of The Buccaneer. Enjoy!

Booty: Duel In The Sand

It's New Years Eve, of course, and as a special gift to the Brethren I’d like to share my very favorite sword fight from any pirate movie ever made. That’s right! The battle between Basil Rathbone as the evil (and you will note, French) Le Vasseur and Errol Flynn as our hero (British, of course), Stephen Blood in Captain Blood. I love this scene from the much lionized movie for many different reasons but for one in particular: Basil Rathbone.

Yeah, you were expecting me to say ol’ Errol, weren’t you? Don’t get me wrong; I love Mr. Flynn. Rathbone, though, was probably the greatest fencing movie actor of his or arguably any age. Unlike Flynn, who is all muscle and athletic prowess with very little of style mixed in, Rathbone is a study in technical precision. Every thrust and parry, even on those ridiculously dangerous wet rocks in Laguna Beach, is surgery perfect. He’s a vision of Dumas’ D’Artagnon come to life as a pirate villain.

I frequently fall into imagining this sequence as a romanticized retelling of the infamous duel between Laurens de Graff (Flynn) and Nicholas Van Horn (Rathbone) and I even imagine a similar exchange of words as they duke it out on the sand. In fact, Rathbone notoriously gave Flynn lip during the filming of another famous movie wherein they dueled to the death over Olivia de Havilland: The Adventures of Robin Hood. While filming that duel, Flynn chuckled that he “always got the girl.” Rathbone pulled up short, saluted Flynn and said – doubtless in that steely monotone that only Vincent Price could do better – “Yes you do, but I could actually kill you.” And given his fencing skills, and the obvious points in both duels where he backs off and allows Flynn to get the better of him, it is quite clear that Rathbone wasn’t bragging. Or lying.

Best wishes for a happy and safe New Years Eve, Brethren. Enjoy!

(Note: When I went to the YouTube video of the complete duel, embedding was disabled so here, as a poor substitute, is the short AMC doc on the staging of the duel. Pull the movie out tonight as part of your celebration and enjoy the duel in its entirety if your appetite has been wetted. You’ll be glad you did.)

Booty: Make This Happen

Those of you who frequent Triple P would be absolutely justified in outrage were I to repeat my undying affection for the movie Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World. So I won’t. Just allow me to say that, though anyone as devoted to the O’Brian novels on which it is “based” as I am will certainly tell you that there’s more than one thing to quibble about, over all the film got everything right. Especially regarding life at sea in Nelson’s Royal Navy.

The real issue at this point – seven years after the movie was released – is why have we yet to see a sequel? While the movie was not a box office blockbuster, it did reasonably well monetarily and was nominated for 10 Academy Awards including best director and best picture. I’ll leave the Academy’s popularity contests out of this and just say that Hollywood has an entire 20 book catalogue to choose from here. In fact, initial talks about beginning filming on The Reverse of the Medal, book 11 in the series, occurred in 2009. Just what are they waiting for?

Well, according to this article reprinted over at Under the Black Flag, Russell Crowe is wondering the same thing. And he’d like you to get on this right away. Evidently Mr. Crowe, who was in on the aforementioned talks, is stumping for a sequel to Master and Commander and he asks that the fans do their part to make it happen.

Thanks to the insider info of my particular friend The Dear Knows over at The Dear Surprise, all of us have everything we need to bug the holy living you know what out of 20th Century Fox until they succumb to the power of the people. Clearly piratitude is called for in this case, and the Brethren are doubtless up to the task.

Here’s the simple procedure:

If you’re on Twitter, tweet @20thcenturyfox that you want them to make a sequel of M & C. This is my standard tweet based on Russell Crowe’s original call to action:

@20thcenturyfox Please make a sequel to Master & Commander! (via @cinemablend & @russellcrowe) #holdfast

I can also use it to rouse my seafaring mates on Twitter. You know who you are; com’on, people.

If you’d rather, The Dear Knows has included the email address for Tom Rothman at 20th Century Fox in his post: rothmana@fox.com. According to Mr. Crowe this is really the way to go, but I don’t think doing both can hurt the case at all.

In conclusion then, let us resolve to make this happen and get an M & C sequel underway in 2011. If our seafaring ancestors taught us nothing else, they surely engrained in us that the power of a combined force with one goal is quite literally unstoppable. Huzzah!

Header: Russell Crowe as Jack Aubrey from the movie Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World

Booty: Laffite The Pirate

I've said it before and I’m about to say it again: I love both movies entitled The Buccaneer. The silent film with Frederick March as Jean Laffite is an underappreciated classic along the lines of Birth of a Nation (without the racism or misogyny). The 1958 version adds talking, color, a little more historical accuracy and – biggest bonus of all – Yul Brynner as Jean Laffite and Charlton Heston as Andrew Jackson. The scene where Laffite points his pistol at Jackson and gives him a talking to is one of the finest piratical moments ever filmed.

You’ve also heard me whine about the fact that neither of these wonderful films is available on DVD. Yes, you can get a VHS of the 1958 film at Amazon for something like $30 so go ahead if you like. I’m holding out. My frustration extends to the fact that neither movie is even on YouTube. But a couple of clips featuring Mr. Brynner are available, grainy though they may be, and I’d like to share one with you to kick off the weekend.

This scene needs very little setting up. The murderous babe is an exposition set piece. She can show us her boobs while the pirate (my Uncle Renato Beluche, by the way, sporting some inaccurate if oh-so-shiny earrings) manhandles her and she spouts off about how no one on Grande Terre wants to go in with the Americans. Except Laffite. Enter Gambi and a couple of his cronies to join in and harp on the recently taken ship that will pay off in millions if only they kill the little boy (and probably his dog, too) being watched over by an unusually uniformed Dominique Youx (played to the hilt by the wonderful Charles Boyer). Wow; that was a long sentence!

Anyway, everyone looks like they just had a bath and their clothes were dry cleaned which is the case with all these “historical” movies from back in the day so nothing new there. Oh yeah, and I also love the aside about the “Governor’s daughter” who, in all fairness, would have been about two years old at the time. It hardly takes away from the fun of the movie, though. So here for your viewing pleasure are Yul Brynner, Charles Boyer and a host of other fine actors in 1958's The Buccaneer:

Books: Morgan, Avery, Teach And The Lafitte Brothers

Some novels are too perfect to become movies (anything by Gabriel Garcia Marquez), some novels are dragged kicking and screaming to the big screen (Jane Austen’s creations, which usually come out OK but show up with tousled hair and bodice ripped), some are unintentional movie gold (the swashbucklers of Rafael Sabatini) and some are obviously written with Hollywood in mind (Brett Easton Ellis, anyone?). With absolutely no offense to Keith Thomson, today’s subject falls into that last category.

Pirates of Pensacola was published in 2005 and came out at the beginning of that summer. I had my head so deep in William C. Davis’ miraculous The Pirates Laffite at the time that I couldn’t be troubled with a novel, much less one by a screenwriter. Don’t get me wrong, I love movies dearly (see picture at header of yesterday’s post; continue to search for similar throughout this blog). It just sets my teeth on edge when someone who writes for the big screen presents us with a novel. It’s like a newspaper editor putting out a book of poetry (Edgar A. Poe not withstanding); even with a considerable flair, something is going to go horribly wrong. I wasn’t disappointed when I finally picked up Mr. Thomson’s book and tore through it in a week. On all levels of expectation.

The book opens with one of the most hilarious first paragraphs I’ve ever read, but those sentences aren’t about the main character. Morgan Baker is an accountant for the multi-billion dollar acquisitions conglomerate Vail & Co. in Miami, Florida. Our hero is the standard bean-counter type who was evidently abandoned by his father at the age of nine and spent his life in foster care. His only father figure is his boss, Herb Flick, head of accounting at Vail and every bit the weasel. If Pirates of Pensacola were Office Space, Morgan would be Milton Woddoms.

Trouble comes to Morgan in the form of his Dad Isaac, who shows up on his son’s porch after a long stint in a Florida jail. Isaac starts talking about pirates and treasure and being followed by a man with a hook. Morgan, who has no love for his deadbeat Dad, dismisses the tales as lunacy. Through a series of manipulations, Isaac manages to steal Vail & Co’s private yacht and – almost inadvertently – drag his son down to the Caribbean in it. They are off to the fictional Sugar Islands and a world of modern-day pirates with sabers and hoop earrings and fast ships disguised as shrimpers.

From this point, the novel is quite literally non-stop action. The Bakers are actually the Cookes, a dynastic pirate family that have used the Sugars as a home port since buccaneer days. They are in no way special, however. Well, other than the fact that absolutely every other pirate family (and most of the individual pirates) in the islands seem to be out to get them. The Vails are actually the Hoods who made their fortune in the illegal slave trade and turned to cocaine when that market dried up. Then there are the Lafitte brothers, Emildeau and Faldeau. The two are hereditary barbers stuck in the trade because a Cooke injured their ancestor Jean so badly that he had to give up the sea for shaving other pirates. The brothers, by the way, turn out to be even more Milton Woddoms than Morgan.

It is through the Lafittes (as coincidence, not via polite introduction) that Morgan runs into Polly Teach. She’s the requisite lady pirate masquerading as a manicurist and, unlike her employers, she is descendant from the real pirate who shared her last name. Though Polly gets plenty of buckle to swash in the story she stands out like a sore thumb. There are so many peripheral characters that I was disappointed to find a complete lack of other women outside the brothels on Bonney Street. I would have liked to see that Nycroft the boat builder’s descendant was a chick mechanic with a wry sense of humor for instance. But alas, he’s just another dude.

Avery Vail, the scion of the former Hood family, sends his goons after Isaac and Morgan. The goons, by the way, are Bolidar and Rackham and names such as theirs pepper the book. Squid, Fife, Rotunda, Xebec and Burnie (the cook) are just a few of the more amusing examples. When the goons fail, Avery comes after the Cookes himself and everything from exploding engines (one shot from a pistol is all it takes) to a 17th century Spanish dungeon to hilarious whorehouse antics and a clipper ship in full sail gets thrown into the stew. It’s pirate overload beneath a turquoise sky.

And overload it was indeed. Though the book was fun and Thomson has obviously done his research (even if he did sleep through Pirate History 101), the twists became too twisted for me to bear. By the last fifty pages I didn’t care who was in league with whom and what new “they will never get out of this one!” moment was just around the corner. In fact, all the perils pushed so far toward the finale that the end of the book was a let down, at least for me.

I would recommend Pirates of Pensacola as a beach side read, however. It’s popcorn on the page with a pirate twist, and I guess you can’t argue with that. Either way, I’ll only hurry out to see the movie if Russell Crowe shows up as Isaac. The likelihood of which is probably slim to none.

Movies: Nice And Messy

Spike TV, the channel that brought you "Whacked Out Sports" and Pamela Anderson as an animated crime fighting stripper, brings us the "historical accuracy of battle" with it's series "Deadliest Warrior". (Yes, I know the title says movies and technically we're talking about TV here but you can now rent season one on Netflix and I think that counts for something.) Look at the abs!

The whole point of "Deadliest Warrior" is to round up "experts" and have them throw around the weapons of various legendary fighting men while thumping their chests about how awesome their guy was and what a pansy their opponent must have been. Afterwards, a doctor comes in and tells you how very gruesome the damage to the ballistics gel dummy or pig carcass is. At the end a computer takes over and generates 1000 theoretical meetings of the two warriors to determine who would win in "real life". The match ups are right out of an historian's fever dream: Spartan vs Ninja, Samaria vs Gladiator, Viet Cong vs Nazi SS, etc. It's crazy good guy stuff all around.

Last night, seemingly out of the blue, Spike served up "pirate night" with two pirate-centric "Deadliest Warriors" back to back. Though I watched them both, I'm only going to discuss the first one here - Pirate vs Knight. The second one - Medellin Cartel vs Somali Pirate - seems more like a terrorist skirmish than a meeting of warriors so we'll just reveal the outcome to that one (spoiler alert!). But first, the Caribbean Freebooter meets the French Soldier of God.

The pirate in question is your classic Jack Sparrow-y pirate of the Caribbean right down to his buckled shoes, Louis XIV-esque coat and tricorn hat. He is also the cleanest pirate you will ever meet this side of Jean Laffite. He is referred to by the experts representing him as a trained naval specialist, warrior and go-getter of the first order. We are told that the 18th century pirate is the equivalent of a modern Delta Force soldier. He's an expert in shock and awe and he would like nothing better than to kick the snot out of a sissy boy knight and take his candy from him.

The knight, on the other hand, is from 15th century France. Sealed in plate armor he is unrecognizable under his thick helm. His armor shines in the sun and never a dent is seen. The experts on his side make sure we are aware that he is of the nobility, highly trained and fighting for honor and God. He is the Green Beret of his era. In reference to his opponent, he might as well be going up against a rat. Pirates are just the sort of godless vermin a knight would love to wipe the floor with.

Now that the initial insults have been exchanged, it's time to trot out the weaponry. On the knight's side we have: the morning star (that club with a spiked ball-and-chain dangling from it), plate armor, the crossbow, the halberd (a lance with a pike and axehead at the end) and the broadsword. For the pirate: the grenado (filled with shot, nails and black powder), the flintlock pistol, the blunderbuss, the cutlass and the boarding axe. Yes, Brethren, many a pig carcass suffered mightily in the ensuing tests.

Although at the outset the experts make a show of the fact that "pirates love things that go boom", the whole issue of superior technology in the form of guns is downplayed in favor of the knight's impenetrable metal skin. At no point - other than one very quick mention - does anyone point out that the reason the era of knights in shining armor passed into oblivion was black powder weapons. There is also never any talk about the knight's inherent immobility and his helmet's overt restriction of visibility. It's all about the armor, baby!

Then we are treated to actors performing the results of the computer generated battles. The pirate is stabbed, quarrelled (in the thigh - ouch!) and generally knocked about but, lo and behold, shooting the knight directly in the face with that flintlock seems to do the trick. The computer, evidently, saw all the things the experts didn't. The pirate prevailed in a surprisingly high 63% of one-on-one battles.

See the entire conflagration for yourself on the Season 1 DVD of "Deadliest Warrior" which, as noted, is now available. Or check it out at the "Deadliest Warrior" webpage. It's good fun for the most part. I just couldn't help feeling a little smug when they revealed that the pirate won. On the other hand, I was surprised to see the Somali pirate best the Medellin Cartel, although by a much slimmer margin of 53%. Maybe it was the AK47 and the rocket launcher? Who can say.

Booty: Hollywood vs Reality

As I mentioned in the comments on Monday, I went to town with the screen grabs from That Hamilton Woman and now I have nothing to do with them. Friday Booty to the rescue! Above is a lovely still of Emma and Horatio at a ball. Of course her costume is wrong for the period that the two were lovers but I've a sneaking suspicion that Regency gowns were probably too "simple" for the movie, so they went with the full blown Georgian fashions. One other point before we move on: everything is sparkly in this movie.

Even the battle scenes. Here are some Frenchies getting ready to fire on the British. The striped shirts give their nationality away.

Here's a particularly heroic portrait of Nelson done around the time he and Emma fell for one another. He's not quite Laurence Olivier, is he? Please note the chelengk in his hat, which he was given after the Battle of the Nile. That was made entirely of diamonds and if the costumers got nothing else right in That Hamilton Woman, they outdid themselves on Nelson's chelengk.

Look at it; gorgeous. The eye patch was a bit of a problem, I guess. The dresser kept forgetting which eye gave Nelson trouble. Since he was only blind in the eye - it wasn't like he had an empty socket, pirate-style - you can imagine their confusion.

This is Nelson's favorite portrait of Emma. As I understand it, he took it to sea and had it with him when he died. She is handsome, but it is obvious that she is no longer the nymph painters like Reynolds clambered for. Those cheeks are chubby indeed.

And here's Emma from the Carnival scene in the movie. My favorite thing about this still is her jewels. Her necklace and earbobs sport diamond Ns. Click the pic to enlarge.

Happy Friday, Brethren. I'm off to spend a vacation day with the family. See you tomorrow for Sailor Mouth Saturday.

Movies: That Naval Hero

That Hamilton Woman, the 1941 British production staring Vivien Leigh as Emma Harte Hamilton and Laurence Olivier as Horatio Nelson, is another example of twisted history used as a thin veil for modern issues. The production is lavish if a bit slap-dash and both Leigh and Olivier are gorgeous in a way that neither Hamilton nor Nelson were during their scandalous affair.

The story is almost ridiculously familiar, but it is muddled up to such a degree in the film that I quit paying attention to the details and just marvelled at the costumes and scenery. That sentence, I realize, doesn't speak well of the film at all and perhaps I am being too harsh. Having said that, I find that familiar stories, on film, in books, etc., that creep particularly far away from historical accuracy tend to be boring. And so, unfortunately, is Alexander Korda's narrative.

Emma meets Horatio when she has only just married the many-years-her-senior Ambassador to Naples, William Hamilton (Alan Mowbray, appropriately wry and jaded). Though this arrangement seems to suit her, she cannot help being swept off her feet by the handsome sea Captain who is not only young but has both arms and two good eyes. It's baffling, really, since part of the charm of the Hamilton/Nelson affair was that they met and fell in love not because they were both young and lovely but because of sincere mutual attraction. He was a beat up husk of a man and she was a chubby former nymph who had quite obviously been passed around when he sailed into Naples harbor and swept her off her feet. I guess the movies have to have their glamour.

And That Hamilton Woman is nothing if not glamorous. The sets and costumes are gorgeous, the acting, as you would expect, is spectacular and the special effects during the Battle of Trafalgar scenes are particularly breathtaking:
The film won an Oscar for Best Sound and even today it is easy to see why. Hearing the balls fly during battle is overwhelming. Certainly, it must be very close to what the real experience would have sounded like.

It is too little too late, however. Prior to the big battle, Lord Hamilton slips into obscurity (he in fact died with both Emma and Horatio at his side) once the action moves to England. Horatio is briefly confronted by his wife, the long suffering Frances Nesbitt (a properly prune-faced Gladys Cooper), who has been taking care of his wheelchair-bound father Reverend Nelson (Halliwell Hobbes; hilarious) all these long years. And of course there is the child Horatia, who Emma "registers" as the daughter of "...Horatio Thompson, a sailor". No mention is made of Horatia's poor twin sister, left at a foundling home because Emma couldn't handle two babies. Then, ever so mysteriously, Nelson retires and he and the still thin and lovely Emma move on to an estate in the country.

The whole point of the movie, and the focus of many an unfortunate and distracting speech about tyranny and mother England, is that the Nazis are out there. So, of course, Nelson must come out of retirement and win the Battle of Trafalgar with Bonaparte a handy substitute for Hitler. The inevitable occurs. Nelson is shot by a French sniper and his death throes and final speech are artfully filmed through gauze and gels. Of course he wants the Admiralty to look after Emma. They don't and she is driven from her estate, finally ending up a penniless drunk in Calais, steeling booze and going to debtors' prison. Because we all know the worst will happen to bad girls like Emma.

Here is the link to the IMDb page for That Hamilton Woman, if you've an interest. The movie is certainly worth putting in the Netflix queue. It's visually charming and it is a treat to watch married lovers Leigh and Olivier play off one another on screen. But as films about history go, this one is more fiction that fact.

Movies: "Yeah, Pretty Gruesome"

The History Channel is usually pretty reliable when it comes to actual history, some of their other shows not withstanding. They choose experts for their commentary and go all out when it comes to dramatizing the events they're focusing on. The Dark Ages DVD is no exception.

The Dark Ages in Europe spanned roughly the period from 400 to 1,000 CE, give or take a decade or two. From the sack of Rome by the Visigoths, through the particularly interesting strategies of Charles "The Hammer" Martel against the Moors (a favorite of mine) on down to the Crusades, The Dark Ages doesn't miss a beat. Nor does it skimp on live action with accurate costuming, especially weaponry. Well done all around.

I know what you're thinking, Brethren, so let us just get it out of the way. What's up, Pauline? We stopped by to chat about freebooters, not the sack of Rome or the plague in Byzantium. Well, first of all that stuff is not without it's charm but second, I plan to focus on the doc's most delightful portion: the part about the Vikings.

Due to what was probably a combination of factors, not the least of which might have been crop failures and over-population in the future Scandinavian countries, the Vikings began to raid parts of Europe in the late 8th century. The first big hit was at Lindesfarne, England, in June of 793. The monastery there, unprotected and full of wealth not only in gold but food and goods as well, was an easy target for the Viking strategy of hit and run that served them so well for the next 200 years. They went home with their spoils and, as Dr. Kelly DeVries says in the doc: "This was like putting out a sign: Uncle Olaf wants you!"

Here is truly one of the most charming parts about The Dark Ages in general and the Viking portion in particular: the professors who do the play-by-play. Far from stuffy and full of themselves (as so many of mine unfortunately were), they relish every minute of their subject. Thomas Martin excitedly explains that the Vikings were "...really the best pirates, the best raiders" of any period in history. You get the feeling that he'd really love to join them in one of those shallow draft long boats of theirs and hit a few Irish monasteries himself. Shortly thereafter, Philip Daileader shows up and dryly quips that "Any time you're being attacked by a guy named Skullsplitter, you have to be concerned." Historian comedy at it's best.

Dr. DeVries reappears with the story of Agle the boy who, after losing a ballgame to a mate, hurries home to retrieve an axe with which he promptly caves in his buddy's head. His mother, in the words of the doctor "...isn't upset, but says he'll make a good Viking one day." All this around dramatizations of bloody Viking raids that give you a good idea of the disregard for human life inherent in the Viking society. Good times.

And then this guy shows up:
That is Ivar the Boneless being carried on his shield because, evidently, he was without the use of his legs. The picture, by the way, gives you just a taste of how well done the dramatizations are throughout the doc. Why the Viking warlord was known by his moniker is tactfully debated by the professors but, suffice it to say, whatever his trouble was it didn't stop Ivar from wreaking havoc.

In 866, Ivar and his "great heathen army" of several thousand Vikings landed in Northumbria and began to conquer. Like Henry Morgan in Panama, there was little chance of stopping Ivar's band of buccaneers. His particular target was York whose ruler, Aiella, had evidently killed Ivar's father. The heathen army stormed and won York. Aiella escaped.

When Aiella returned with what was left of his own forces, he was captured by a now enraged Ivar. This sets the stage for a torture worthy of any twisted pirate throughout history. As we watch Aiella's death dance at the hands of Ivar, the particulars of The Bloody Eagle are explained. The torso would be openned, exposing the ribs, and then the lungs would be pulled out and trussed up to form wings.

Cut to Dr. DeVries with a grin on his face and a glint in his eye as he says: "Yeah. Pretty gruesome."

And that's why I love the heck out of this documentary. People who have a true passion for it can make history not only interesting but fun. It's what I hope I'm doing here at Triple P. You all just can't see me grinning.

The Dark Ages is directed by Christopher Cassel and narrated by AJ Allison for The History Channel. Throw it in your Netflix queue next time you're there. I'm betting you'll enjoy it and, like me, you'll probably learn something too.

Movies: "The Ruthless Ambitions Of A Man"

1940's The Sea Hawk, a Warner Bros. film directed by Michael Curtiz and staring Errol Flynn as our titular privateer, is not really a movie about a freebooter. In fact it is a propaganda film designed to reference the "Nazi problem" behind a thin veil of England in peril. Americans were uneasy about all the world domination coming out of Germany and the movie was supposed to get them fired up to kick kraut ass even as it entertained. I'll have to ask my Mom if it worked.

Borrowing the title from the seafaring novel by Rafael Sabatini, and nothing else, The Sea Hawk is really just a Hollywood version of some of the exploits of Sir Francis Drake. A lot of liberties are taken - it's Hollywood after all - to the point of naming Flynn's character Geoffrey Thorpe. Why? You're guess is as good as mine.

None of these little nit-picking details detract from the movie at all. Filmed on the heels of that other Errol Flynn pirate movie, Captain Blood (and in fact using some of the footage from same) The Sea Hawk is a feast for the senses and the eyes - even when it comes off as historically inaccurate... or down right corny.

The movie starts out with an ominous scene of King Philip of Spain discussing his plans to conquer the entire world. The visual punch is evident right away as a giant map on the wall is engulfed by the shadow of the evil King. He is sending his minister Don Alvarez (Claude Rains, appropriately untrustworthy) to England to meet with Queen Elizabeth and, as it turns out, a Spanish spy in her court. The Don is taking along his niece, Dona Maria (Brenda Marshall, who comes off rather well in the soft focus lens, though frankly I was missing Olivia de Havilland), to be presented to the Queen and become her lady in waiting. Of course the young Dona has a duenna played by that usual minder of sweet young things Una O'Connor who, with Alan Hale, becomes comic relief.

Alvarez's ship is overtaken by Thorpe in his carrack Albatross (get it - like the Swan or Pelican of Drake... yeah). Of course there's some awesome boarding and sword play that is well staged and in some cases pretty authentic:
Except for those epee blades. Where's your hanger, Thorpe?

I'm not even gonna touch that one. Anyway, the Spanish ship is jam packed with English slave oarsmen. All of these are set free and marched directly past the indignant Dona Maria who looses some of her self-righteousness when she sees what her country and the Inquisition have been up to.

Soon enough Alvarez is protesting Thorpe's indiscretions to Queen Elizabeth herself. She calls her "Sea Hawks" in to be reprimanded and of course Thorpe is late. The Queen (English actress Flora Robson who chews scenery like I imagine the real Liz the First actually did) pretends outrage but then, when she gets Thorpe alone, reveals her disgust with King Philip and the Spanish in general. This allows Thorpe to tell the Queen of his plans to raid the annual mule train of treasure in Panama. Elizabeth is all for it, but advises that she cannot openly fund or condone the mission.

Meanwhile, Alvarez is meeting with Lord Wolfingham, the Queen's advisor and the spy for Spain. (Though Henry Daniell does a fine job in the role, both the first mate and I agreed that Vincent Price would have been a lot more fun to watch.) They're plotting the invasion of the Armada while, under their noses, Dona Maria is falling hard for Geoffrey Thorpe.

Thorpe sails for Panama but the mission has been leaked to Alvarez who hurries off to undo all Thorpe hopes to accomplish. The New World scenes are shot in sepia tone rather than straight black and white, which gives the action in the close, humid jungles of Panama a decidedly sticky and buggy feel. I'm itchy just thinking about it.

Of course Thorpe and his men are ambushed by an overwhelming Spanish force. Remanded to the custody of the Inquisition, the Englishmen who survive - including of course Flynn and Hale - are sentenced to life in a Spanish galley. No amount of chain will hold our hero, however, and the crew of the Albatross manage to escape their inhuman bondage and return to England. (Ladies, just FYI, there's a lot of shirtlessness in these scenes and you should know it ain't 300... not by a long shot.)

Thorpe reports plans for the Armada's strike on England to Queen Elizabeth and then he proceeds to dispatch Lord Wolfingham in an exquisitely well done dueling scene. He is reunited with Dona Maria - who disavows Spain forever. The Queen recalls all her disgraced "Sea Hawks" and gives a rousing speech about honor to country and what can happen when "...the ruthless ambitions of a man threaten to engulf the world". (Philip or Hitler? You decide.)

Despite it's melodrama, The Sea Hawk is a classic film. Even more than Captain Blood, this film allows Flynn to really shine and play to his strengths. Not since Robin Hood had he been this uncompromisingly charming and swashbuckling.

Of course we all know the December holidays are upon us. A pirate lover in your life would doubtless thank you for a copy of The Sea Hawk and if they don't, keep it for yourself. You won't be disappointed.

Movies: "To Lord Nelson"

I aspire to call myself a novelist. I've written a ton - ten books that share subject and characters - but I'm not quite there yet. "There" is a relative place and it was the serendipitous intersection of my "professional writing experience" and the 251st anniversary of Admiral Horatio Nelson's birth (today!) that led me to this post... That and an unabashed insatiable appetite for Russell Crowe playing Jack Aubrey. If they had added Jean Laffite all my fantasies would be tied up with a bow.

I heard an editor throw out a remark about the movie Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World recently. It was kind of a bad thing to say to a rabid O'Brian junky, in all fairness. The editor informed me that the movie was a condensation of not one but three (some say four) of Patrick O'Brian's novels. Given that the man has never read O'Brian, I didn't know what to say. Other than to inform him that, by his logic, the movie is a condensation of twenty novels.

So indulge me in a little compare and contrast Brethren, rather than a blow by blow of the film. While I love the movie - the look, the cast, the details of ships and shipping in Nelson's navy are hard to argue with - it is no more O'Brian than I am. Here's why.

Master and Commander, the first book in what is affectionately referred to as O'Brian's Aubrey/Maturin series, was originally published in 1969. Opening in April of 1800, the book introduces us to John Aubrey, a Lieutenant in the Royal Navy stuck on Gibraltar without a ship and Stephen Maturin, a half Irish, half Catalan Doctor who is impoverished and out of work. The two become friends over a common love of music and, when Jack is made Master and Commander and given the sloop Sophie, he asks Stephen to join the crew as ship's surgeon. Here's a handsome still of our intrepid heroes - now older and wiser - from the film:
If you've only seen the movie and none of that sounds familiar to you than I hope my point is clear. Peter Weir used no part of M & C in the creation of his script other than the characters Jack Aubrey and Stephen Maturin. As a matter of fact, the story goes that Master and Commander was tacked on to the name of the film because the studio thought The Far Side of the World didn't sound manly and actiony enough.

Speaking of which, let us poke around at The Far Side of the World for comparison. This is the 10th book in O'Brian's delightful series. Published in 1984, the book is set in 1813. The movie, curiously, is set in 1805. O'Brian claimed to have taken his inspiration from the epic conflagration between USS Essex and HMS Phoebe that culminated in David Porter's Essex being sunk in Valparaiso harbor in 1814. Essex was decimating the English whaling fleet in the South Pacific and Phoebe was sent to stop her. Now this sounds like the movie, right? Kinda.

Of course, you couldn't have the US - during her second war for independence no less - as the villain, so Weir put a French privateer in the place of the American ship. From there, both O'Brian and Weir deviate vastly from the events of the Essex/Phoebe engagement. And Weir's film, which focuses only on Surprise chasing the French privateer Acheron, really has very little to do with O'Brian's book.

Frankly, the book is far more interesting. There is the crazy gunner Horner, who brings his pretty wife aboard ship. Of course this was not uncommon. The problem is Mrs. Horner is much younger than her husband and it is inferred that he may be impotent. She starts an affair with an older midshipman, Hollom, who gets her pregnant. Maturin's assistant performs a sloppy abortion. When Horner finds out he casts the assistant surgeon overboard, throws his wife and Hollom off a cliff on Juan Fernandez Island and ends by hanging himself below decks. Not manly and actiony enough for ya? Or what, too many women?

The book ends with Surprise having to leave men behind (including Jack and Stephen) on an island full of Royal Navy mutineers. The tension is so thick in the last thirty pages of the book that it is nail biting and the blood and guts that ensue make the movie look relatively tame in that department.

The most memorable line - the one that still echoes in my head - comes during the battle between the Surprises and the Hermione mutineers. Jack is fending them off heroically and O'Brian notes - almost off-handedly - that "...Jack's sword arm was red to the elbow." No unnecessary exposition but such a powerful picture that you just know an epic struggle is taking place. That is the freaking genius of O'Brian.

Really, I could go on and on but that's tacky. Weir took handsome dialogue from all 20 books and spliced it into a story, largely of his own making. That doesn't make the movie bad at all. Its a wonderful introduction to Nelson's Navy and the ideas of O'Brian and if you haven't seen it, I encourage you to do so. The acting is impeccable and the action is fun. Plus Russell Crowe is truly large and in charge here while Paul Bettany as Maturin is equal to the challenge of standing up against him (no small task).

Most of all, though, don't think that the movie is the book(s). O'Brian's work is the perfect combination of Conrad and Austen and his impeccable research brings that time of wooden ships and iron men to life. Read Master and Commander or The Far Side of the World and see for yourself. I promise you, it will be time well spent.

And to Admiral Nelson - Huzzah!