Britannia, episode three recap: like Life of Brian with added eye-gouging
The gods have decreed that any television series seeking to cash in on the popularity of Game of Thrones must contain oodles of violence and nudity (some swearing too, if you’re really making the effort). Jez Butterworth, writer and creator of Britannia, is evidently up to speed on the relevant sacred texts as part three of Sky’s new Rampaging Romans v Barking Britons blockbuster ratchets up the gouging, flaying and bonking to barely acceptable levels.
A pair of scalded eye-sockets, one tortured legionnaire and a steamy assignation – primly left to our imaginations, for some reason – confirm Britannia is here to fill the Westeros-shaped void in the schedules. More surprising is the ongoing lightness of tone – Divis the former druid is essentially comic relief by this stage – and the zippy pacing, with half a dozen storylines unfolding at breakneck speed.
With so much happening, and so quickly, does it matter that the results are occasionally closer to Life Of Brian than to Gibbon’s Decline and Fall? Or that the anachronistic dialogue – “Are you alright, mate?” inquires one Roman of another – has reached a level where it can’t merely be sloppy writing but is surely a contrivance on the part of Butterworth.
Perhaps he’s making the point that, once you get past the warpaint and the beheadings, we aren’t so very different from our ancestors. Or maybe he misplaced his Latin dictionary and didn’t have time to order a replacement.
1. What happened to Aulus during his 'trip' with the druids?
The Roman general (David Morrissey) wakes on a riverbank, woozy but with a restorative bowl of berries to hand. “He looks like a newfound baby,” observe the watching mystics. “Our baby.”
But who’s playing who? Back at camp, Aulus confides that he’s entered an alliance with the druids – one that will see the painted gurus put their weight behind the invaders. “You don’t defeat them by fighting their warriors – you defeat them by fighting their gods.”
Plausible – but why did he appear to shout out the name of one of those self-same deities at the very end? Head druid Veran (Mackenzie Crook, looking like Gareth from The Office if he was deep fried and forgotten about under a sun-bed) certainly thinks he’s the one manipulating Aulus, rather than the other way around. If the plot grows any thicker you could put it in a tub and sell it as butter.
2. Yuck – there is a lot of violence in this one
Gobby Celt Sawyer (Barry Ward) has his eyes burned out after scrapping with a Roman, daughter Cait (Eleanor Worthington Cox) watching helplessly from the bushes. Meanwhile, at Camp Cantii, the potentially deranged King Pellenor (Ian McDiarmid) is getting his jollies off having his men tear strips from a captured legionnaire. It’s properly gory, one of the few moments where the otherwise wildly idiosyncratic – and, let’s be honest, thoroughly batty – Britannia can be said to be stomping in the same tonal puddle as Game of Thrones.
3. But why is Britannia so prim when it comes to nudity?
Not that we’re sitting there actively willing cast members to disrobe – but the gratuitous removal of ye old kit is par for the course on shows of this kind. That evidently isn’t the case here. When an imprisoned Regni princess reveals she is an avatar of the goddess Brenna and seduces one of her Cantii captors, you expect at least one of the pair to whip off sundry vestments. Instead there’s a demure fade to black. I've a feeling we're not in Westeros anymore.
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4. Is there such a thing as too much comic relief?
As played with a wink and a stifled giggle by Danish actor Nikolaj Lie Kaas, mad druid Divis has been a highlight of the first three episodes. But his comic turn is arguably becoming a distraction. Armed with a magic pebble, he’s brainwashed Aulus’s abandoned body-guards and used them to set in motion a complicated revenge plot – with unexpectedly hilarious consequences.
Granted, the storyline has a tragic end for the Romans, as one of the soldiers emerges back at camp clutching his buddy’s severed head – a distraction allowing Divis and Cait sneak around the back. The lead-up, however, is 100 per cent Blackadder, with Divis mugging for everything he is worth and the dumb and dumber Romans prat-falling like pros. These scenes are funny but they do kill the morbid mood a bit.
5. Is the sun-kissed Czech Republic the best backdrop for a British swords and sandals tale?
Britannia was filmed in Wales and Central Europe and it’s obvious which bits were shot where. The Czech scenes are bathed in sunshine, with azure water glittering in the light. Is it expecting too much for a swords and sorcery romp set in pre-Christian Britain to be consistently dismal? This series requires more gloom by the bucketful.
6. Kerra’s secret didn’t last very long, did it?
The Cantii princess (Kelly Reilly) went behind the back of her father, the king, in the previous episode to plead on behalf of the tribespeople held captive by the Romans. Word has got back to the old man – who is leaving her fate in the hands / sharp pointy staves of the druids. Regardless of their ruling, the outlook is not bright for the impulsive Kerra, with daddy dearest more or less telling her that she will end up beheaded.
7. Will there be a coup within the Roman camp?
The plotters’ attempt to take out one of Aulus’s lieutenants comes unstuck when Pellenor and his men stage their ambush. Just one survivor makes it back – but his commanders are suspicious. It’s unclear where this storyline is headed – another of the conspirators allows himself be strangled in a Cantii cell to avoid torture – but Britannia clearly wants us to pay attention, so expect a bloody payoff. Butterworth isn’t one for beating around the bush, when setting the bush on fire and impaling a tattooed Celt on its brambles is also an option.
8. Is the best bit of Britannia Donovan’s Hurdy Gurdy Man playing over the trippy opening titles?
Yes it is. (Don’t pretend you haven’t been humming the chorus this entire time.)