tomsview
Joined Dec 2012
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If you thought you knew the story of the race to be first to the South Pole from watching John Mills as Robert Falcon Scott in the 1948 film, then this series is like a splash of Antarctic ice water in the face.
The series is based on Roland Huntford's book about Amundsen and Scott's race to the pole. The book is a solid tome, but it's compulsive reading, this series is compulsive viewing.
Huntford's research revealed the meticulous professionalism of Amundsen versus the almost deliberate amateurism of Scott. The personalities of the men determined the fate of their expeditions. This series captures the differences with two powerful performances: Sverre Anker Ousdal as Roald Amundsen, bringing to life the man of iron resolve, and Martin Shaw giving us a stiff-necked, self-delusional 'Con' Scott.
Amundsen picked his men carefully. Great skiers and dog handlers, he ended up with a bunch of tough, capable Bear Grylls'. The one misfit, Johansen, was forced upon him.
Scott liked the hierarchal structure of the navy and that was the way his expedition was formed, but Scott's preconceptions and his idiosyncrasies determined everything.
The recreations of the two journeys are brilliant. In the book, Huntford goes into detail about the handling of the dogs. The Norwegians found that harnessing the dogs in a fan shape rather than in the traditional rows of pairs worked best, it's another beautifully realised detail in the series. We also see the power and savagery of the dogs that are just as happy eating each other as they are eating raw seal meat.
Scott's sentimental approach to his dogs and ponies meant he never got the best out of them. But in his heart of hearts he felt that man-hauling was the proper, heroic way to conquer the pole. There is a brilliant scene as the British team marches forward to strap themselves into their harnesses and their purgatory.
There are harrowing scenes, the slaughter of dogs and ponies, sacrificed to reach the pole, but it's the struggle of the British that sears into the memory with the gut-wrenching man-hauling, made worse as Scott loads their sled with rock samples, while scurvy and frostbite wear them down. It's one thing to read about it, but seeing this recreation on film is something else.
Where the 1948 film remains triumphant is in the music. Trevor Jones provided a serviceable score for "The Last place on Earth", but it's overshadowed by Vaughan Williams haunting, majestic opus for "Scott of the Antarctic".
Although Scott's reputation suffers more than a little frostbite, Huntford's book and this series can't be held fully responsible because it was in the diaries and eyewitness reports all along; Oates, that "very gallant gentleman", hated him.
Amundsen's achievement gets its due. There was duplicity in the way he reversed his expedition to beat the British to the South Pole. However, the Norwegians faced the same conditions, but they had a better plan, and a leader with a clear, unsentimental vision.
The series is based on Roland Huntford's book about Amundsen and Scott's race to the pole. The book is a solid tome, but it's compulsive reading, this series is compulsive viewing.
Huntford's research revealed the meticulous professionalism of Amundsen versus the almost deliberate amateurism of Scott. The personalities of the men determined the fate of their expeditions. This series captures the differences with two powerful performances: Sverre Anker Ousdal as Roald Amundsen, bringing to life the man of iron resolve, and Martin Shaw giving us a stiff-necked, self-delusional 'Con' Scott.
Amundsen picked his men carefully. Great skiers and dog handlers, he ended up with a bunch of tough, capable Bear Grylls'. The one misfit, Johansen, was forced upon him.
Scott liked the hierarchal structure of the navy and that was the way his expedition was formed, but Scott's preconceptions and his idiosyncrasies determined everything.
The recreations of the two journeys are brilliant. In the book, Huntford goes into detail about the handling of the dogs. The Norwegians found that harnessing the dogs in a fan shape rather than in the traditional rows of pairs worked best, it's another beautifully realised detail in the series. We also see the power and savagery of the dogs that are just as happy eating each other as they are eating raw seal meat.
Scott's sentimental approach to his dogs and ponies meant he never got the best out of them. But in his heart of hearts he felt that man-hauling was the proper, heroic way to conquer the pole. There is a brilliant scene as the British team marches forward to strap themselves into their harnesses and their purgatory.
There are harrowing scenes, the slaughter of dogs and ponies, sacrificed to reach the pole, but it's the struggle of the British that sears into the memory with the gut-wrenching man-hauling, made worse as Scott loads their sled with rock samples, while scurvy and frostbite wear them down. It's one thing to read about it, but seeing this recreation on film is something else.
Where the 1948 film remains triumphant is in the music. Trevor Jones provided a serviceable score for "The Last place on Earth", but it's overshadowed by Vaughan Williams haunting, majestic opus for "Scott of the Antarctic".
Although Scott's reputation suffers more than a little frostbite, Huntford's book and this series can't be held fully responsible because it was in the diaries and eyewitness reports all along; Oates, that "very gallant gentleman", hated him.
Amundsen's achievement gets its due. There was duplicity in the way he reversed his expedition to beat the British to the South Pole. However, the Norwegians faced the same conditions, but they had a better plan, and a leader with a clear, unsentimental vision.