A Glorious General, If Not a Glorious Episode (Review)

Series: Rome
Episode Title: "An Owl in a Thornbush"
Original Air Date: September 11, 2005
Grade: C+

Three episodes in the history of a show isn't much of a sample size, but with the shorter seasons employed by HBO dramas (Rome got 12 episodes in its first season) this point isn't too soon to begin asking broader questions about the direction of the enterprise. In the case of Rome, that question is simple: what exactly does the show want to be? Is it a grand historical drama concerned with the world-shaping events surrounding the fall of the Roman Republic, or is it more interested in the lives of ordinary men and women and investigating how those lives are affected by the grand events?

Through three episodes, including this week's middling affair, that question remains unanswered. Instead, Rome seems to be trying for a hybrid approach, where the larger events are foregrounded, but viewed through the eyes of those either outside the circles of power or right on their peripheries. The result so far has been a relatively dissatisfying amalgam, where the machinations of the powerful are rendered dull and the lives of the less powerful characters aren't given enough detail to be truly compelling, with one notable exception.

The most notable example of this dynamic in "An Owl in a Thornbush," which is largely set in Rome as Caesar approaches and Pompey and the Senatorial class flees to a better strategic situation, is the side plot featuring Octavia and her ex-husband Glabius. If you've forgotten about these two, don't feel bad; we should all be so lucky.

Octavia was happily married to Glabius, before her mother Atia broke the marriage in an attempt to connect Octavia with Pompey. Octavia whined about it in the second episode, and this week she sneaks out of her home in the middle of the night for a tryst with her beloved ex. Atia finds about it, dispatches a man to take care of things and, yada yada yada, Glabius ends up with a sword in his stomach, which will happen in Rome, even today.

All of this is supposed to be terribly sad, especially the scene where Octavia stumbles across Glabius' corpse, then confronts Atia, only to have her mother lie and say she had nothing to do with the murder. The idea here, I think, is to reveal the corruption of power and the extent of Atia's ruthlessness.

But this fails as plot because Glabius is a non-entity who ends up with about two and a half minutes of screen time, and Octavia, while more prominent within the show, has been given no real characterization to speak of. And it fails as character work because Atia's ruthlessness and power hunger have already been amply demonstrated. In short, I don't care about Octavia, I don't care about Glabius and Atia is much more entertaining in other contexts.

The show simply hasn't devoted enough time to Octavia to make me care about her little tragedies, and when it counts around to reminding us that she exists it's simply not enough to actually create compelling drama.

I mentioned above that one element of this show is clicking so far, and that element continues to be Kevin McKidd's Lucius Vorenus. Dispatched with new BFF Titus Pullo to scout ahead of Caesar's march and avoid combat, Vorenus is instead concerned with two things: his wife and his soul.

McKidd in this episode continues to do fantastic work conveying the torment of a traditionalist and a religious man swept up into a rebellion he neither understands nor supports. He is a member of the 13th Legion and does his duty, but he does so always with the understanding that he is damning himself and his country in the eyes of his gods.

Lucius explains the baffling fact that his scouts find no resistance as they advance (Pompey has fled Rome with most of the nobles) with the belief that the gods have withdrawn their favor from Rome and no longer protect the city. It is a staggering realization for a man such as Vorenus, and McKidd plays it well, with just the right mix of pious anger and despair.

Vorenus is also concerned about his wife, whose distaste he is aware of, and again, this is handled in a way that resonates with what we know of the character. As he says, "I love her and I require she love me also, or else I am only her slave, and I cannot tolerate that."

This is the thinking of a man who loves his wife but is also of his time; he wants his wife to be happy because he loves her, but the "or else I am only her slave" clause is not some sort of masculine chest-thumping or attempt to cover his feelings. Vorenus is a proud man of 1st century Rome, and proud men of 1st century Rome are not in positions of weakness vis a vis their wives.

Vorenus's storyline in this episode ends with the momentous decision to leave the 13th Legion, a decision made after he and Pullo enter Rome and nail Caesar's proclamation to the Senate door. He prays to Venus for his wife's love, but again, while this is a reflection of the depth of his feelings for Niobe, it is still the prayer of a Roman man. He does not ask to be a better man to earn that love; instead, he offers his blood so that Venus will give him that love.

But that pride crumbles when he finally sees Niobe, and the words he says to her, while shrouded still in a measure of Roman pomposity, are humble, almost plaintive. "I've been sullen....cold...but I'm not made of stone...I can change. I swear on the life of my daughter's son that I will change if you will have it so."

This ends with Vorenus embracing his wife, who seemed on the verge of confessing her infidelity. The point is left ambiguous. Does Vorenus understand that the baby in the other room is his wife's by another man and has decided to forgive Niobe? If not, the inevitable revelation will prove an interesting test of the "new" Vorenus.

Notes

• "Of course, the best way to please a woman is with the wet, beating heart of an enemy. They say they don't like it, but they do." Titus Pullo's idea of the perfect Valentine's Day present.
• Vorenus is quite shocked to learn of the existence of the clitoris.
• There's a weird, abortive sub-plot here with a group of soldiers stealing gold from Rome's treasury, only to have the great misfortune of running into Vorenus and Pullo, who solve things the way they usually do: with stabbing. Pullo returns to the scene later, discovers the gold, then takes the cart away just as Caesar's column approaches. I imagine he ends up rich and satisfied in a life of splendor.
• Polly Walker, who plays Atia, really is wonderfully entertaining in a comedic context. Her instructions as to who will kill who as an angry mob gathers outside her door are hilarious. To a slave: "You must kill yourself. Your survival would be inappropriate." To her son: "Octavian, who would you prefer to kill you?"
• With Pompey and all his supporters fled, and Rome now in the hands of Caesar, Atia is running a nifty little protection racket, extorting money from local businessmen in exchange for Caesar's favor. Good thing that practice died out thousands of years ago. I'd hate to think any Italians would ever get the idea of doing something so unethical.