Having always been an English history buff, I’ve spent countless hours gobbling up any theatrical accounts of my family history (especially where royalty, intrugue and cool costumes are involved).
And though it reddens me to admit it, I’ve recently become a bit obsessed with the Tudors on Showtime. Now, I know what you must be thinking: “Johnathan Rhys Meyers shirtless for 1/3 of the scenes, and that cute guy from the Count of Monte Cristo to boot? Really, V. Sell it to someone who’ll believe it.”
(The CoMC, by the way, has been my favorite book/film of all time since I was like eleven/since the movie came out, respectively. And it could also be argued that I am simply following the tails of male… er I mean tales of male exploits that involve some random hotties. Like Jim What’s-his-face, who played Edmond Dantes in the film version. Rawr. But that is simply not true. Besides, modern historians have no way of determining whether Dumas was hot anyway, so that point is moot.)
The point that I’m trying to make is that history is awesome. But one only has to spend about fifteen minutes watching the History channel on a given weekday (unless it’s Pirate Week…giggidy!) to know that the topic is easily and most often represented in the most boring fashion imaginable. I must therefore praise whoever the person was who first thought it might be a good idea to combine actual historical events–especially the ones that were, in fact, quite steamy) with sexy young actors who don’t mind exposing, I mean illuminating, the true story of Henry VIII–with a resounding “Woot Woot!”. (Or maybe a “Yeah, take it off!”)
Because anyone who’s studied knows that, like many famous males, the thinking machine which motivated this great leader wasn’t necessarily located in his brain.