The Tudors: Watching For Love-Cars

The Tudors is an abomination. Eyewear does not dismiss all televisual eyecandy - seriously immoral, or moral, viewing, both have their offerings to consider. However, amoral TV is the most grievous harm, to body and soul. It drips cynicism like some circus barkers do sweat.

Last night's (on British terrestrial) episode of the Tudors was simply bad karma in two dimensions. It purported to engage with the tragic, moral martyrdom of Saint John Fisher and Saint Thomas More, at the hands of pragmatic Protestant king Henry VIII (here slimmed down to a lithe sexual predator with a nu-metal band member's facial hair) - and their fine splitting of theological and political hairs, regarding conscience, and obediance (church and state matters); while, equally, celebrating the bedroom romping of a king whose finger merely has to crook to conquer young starlets.

This approach may make good TV (after the watershed) - but sits poorly with the solemn, heart-rending bloodshed whacked down upon the heads of good Christian thinkers. It is as if The Sopranos were wedded to a series about the Council of Nicea. I understand the commercial appeal of sex and execution - but surely, it was a cynical edit to follow the beheading of good Cardinal Fisher with Michelangelo's profane holler of "asshole!".
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