throughsilver in blog

Ray Donovan, seasons 1 and 2

I assume anyone reading this has watched more of Ray Donovan than I have, so I’ll keep the recap brief: this show concerns a Hollywood fixer/hitman/thug for hire whose professional and personal relationships begin strained and spend the next however many episodes tugging yet further, so long as the constituent atoms roughly hold together.

Ray Donovan has been recommended to me by a few people, and quite highly. I struggle to see why. Sure, I have monstered through two seasons in the week or so between losing my job and writing this. Let’s compare the show to a proper great, like Breaking Bad or The Wire.

Those AMC and HBO classics were binge-worthy because they were impeccably well-written and paced, with a perfect level of peril to make the viewer wonder if their favourite character would even get through the next scrape. They are like a filet mignon burger: hearty, beautifully prepared and actually pretty good for you when consumed in the serving size you get delivered.

Ray Donovan is a bag of Haribo. Sour Haribo at that. Not at all good for you, but sugary and addictive enough so you can polish off a bag in one sitting. You’re left feeling a bit sick, with a dodgy taste in your mouth outweighed only by the sensation of guilt that has overcome you.

Ostensibly, this is a West Coast Sopranos. The titular Ray (Liev Schreiber) is your Tony; patriarch of a two-child family. Wife kinda knows that he makes his money either ruining or ending other people’s lives, but the gilded cage he keeps her in is just about enough for them to stay together. Kids as they grow up gradually learn what dad is about. As Tony has Uncle Junior to contend with as alpha male, Ray has Mickey (Jon Voight) who has emerged from prison at the outset of the series. The equivalents of Tony’s crew are Ray’s brothers; Bada Bing is replaced by the Fite Club; instead of the FBI, Ray has to contend with, well, the FBI.

…it’s like playing a video game on God Mode.

But where Tony Soprano’s bully was at least nuanced, complex and introspective with major weaknesses that allowed us to – if not empathise – at least feel for him, Ray is a flat-track bully more in the mould of Liam Neeson’s Bryan Mills from the Taken films: wins any fight, knows how to get out of any jam, always has more dirt on his enemies than they have on him. In short, it’s like playing a video game on God Mode. Any sense of tension or peril is replaced by macho “thrills” and a perverse desire to see what tabloid drama unfolds next.

Maybe I’m a bit slow, but I don’t even know what his business is. Tony is a mobster in the classic Italian American organised crime sense that we are familiar with from cinema. Ray is an employee of a very wealthy man (Ezra, played by Elliott Gould) whose organisation seems to be above board, but apparently only concerns itself with espionage and murder. They have higher visibility than the gangsters whose actual business is waste disposal, but I don’t know what their public face is supposed to be. They’re hiding in plain sight? The premise leaves me cold.

…surely Tony Soprano is the best-acted role in TV history…

There are silver linings. As well as the aforementioned car crash aspect, whereby you just can’t look away, and have to see what grisly details emerge next, the cast is very strong. Schreiber does what he’s told to a very high standard, much like the character he’s playing. He’s in shape, he smoulders through most of the scenes, carries a similar sense of menace to James Gandolfini’s Soprano, but replaces Gandolfini’s range (come on, surely Tony Soprano is the best-acted role in TV history) with… he sort of clenches his jaw like an Eastenders villain whenever nonplussed about something.

Jon Voight is insanely good as the tough one minute, coward the next Mickey. Eddie Marsan, as brother Terry is fantastic, as he seemingly always is. Paula Malcomson, playing Ray’s put-upon wife, is a great successor to Edie Falco. We even get Wendell Pierce and Hank Azaria, both better known from infinitely better shows. And that’s not even mentioning the rogues gallery of clients, adversaries and hangers-on.

I was tempted to watch some more (there are, what, seven seasons?), but I think I need a palate cleanser. Ray Donovan is entertaining enough, but ultimately I feel I’m wasting my time with a drama that is sorely lacking any actual drama.

World’s Strongest Man 2019

Your world’s strongest man in 2019: Martins Licis

Okay, here’s the headline: Martins Licis won it.

But what’s behind that? I think this was a really consistent performance that was simultaneously not amazingly impressive, if that even makes sense in this context. I was actually surprised near the end, when he had a nearly insurmountable lead. So, what happened?

Event 1 was the loading race, where you have to carry sacks, anvils and ting to a table. Early on, you’re told that the 2018 winner, Hafthor Julius Bjornsson, has a foot injury. I wonder if that will have an effect? Tom “Brother of Luke” Stoltman won this one, with the terrifyingly efficient Mateusz Kieliszkowski just behind, and Martins Licis third. Favourites Brian Shaw and Thor were 8 and 7 respectively. Why did I write their names in that order? Who knows. Veteran JF Caron was good, mind.

Most impressive: Tom Stoltman

Overhead press (medley), next. Lifting a bunch of things over your head, including the massive log of doom. Thor and Shaw this time showed their mettle and smashed it. This was where Georgian Konstantin Janashia smashed his arm up. Licis was really good, but Kieliszkowski was once again terrifying. He just chucked the weights over his head like the swot in class thrusting their hand up when the teacher asks a question. Key line of commentary: “WHAT WAS THAT ALL ABOUT?”. Kieliszkowski, Licis, Shaw and Thor comfortably ahead of everyone.

Most impressive: Mateusz Kieliszkowski

Event 3 was squat lift. 340KG, for the love of god. I’ve done 5 reps of 100KG, I think. Thor staggered about quite early in his reps, and just chucked it after he’d had enough at 7. This is when we learn they wear corsets to keep their back straight. Shaw did 8, and chucked the bar slightly less violently than the fainting Thor. Licis got 9, and looked like his face might explode. He went at a decent pace, and is built a bit squat for a WSM contender. Kieliszkowski went down too strongly on his squats and got 7. His face was even more explodey.

Most impressive: Martins Licis

Event 4: Deadlift (hold). 320KG this time. How long can you go? Shaw shat the bed a bit at 30 seconds, whereas Thor went into a trance for 45 seconds. The fall of Mateusz Kieliszkowski continued, as he placed sixth. Licis a respectable second, after his training from GRIP MASTER ODD HAUGEN.

Most impressive: Thor

Last event was the god damn Atlas stones. Of course it was. First key story was Tom Stoltman beating Shaw in the head to head, though they both struggled on the insane last stone. Thor obviously did them like he was putting the shopping on a conveyor belt. Licis by this point seemed so far ahead that he just had to complete, and he won. Licis pipped Thor timewise (both under 30 seconds), then Tom S, Kieliszkowski and Shaw (under 40), then everyone else.

Most impressive: Thor

I need to say that even though I’ve not mentioned him much, JF Caron was such a great dark horse contender throughout. Didn’t dazzle at any time, but was a tough match for anyone. As for Kieliszkowski… man, his presses were amazing, but I think if you want to be the strongest man in the effing world, you need squats and deadlift. I mean, come on! Thor, bad foot and all, had a great finish but it was too little too late. Licis performed consistently well throughout, only really being amaze in one event, but everyone else’s inconsistency meant he was largely unchallenged in the final reckoning. Well done him, but you know what I mean?

Martins Licis – 46
Mateusz Kieliszkowski – 38
Hafthor Julius Bjornsson – 37
JF Caron – 31
Tom Stoltman – 30
Brian Shaw – 30
Luke Stoltman – 20
Trey Mitchell III – 18
Adam Bishop – 15
Konstantine Janashia – 7 (obv DNF)

So yeah, we’ll see if Thor wrecks everyone if he gets healthy next year. Tom Stoltman was the best Brit, but a bit distant given how many British contenders there were. He has a lot of potential, being close in size to Thor and Shaw, and a don at stones. My main thing for 2020 is wondering if Kieliszkowski can overcome his squat and deadlift issues, or if they are the kinds of lifts that you’re either fundamentally good at or not. Should be interesting. And a glass raised to Laurence Shahlaei, who bowed out with injury in his final WSM. Ledge.

UFC 243

This was a fun show. Thankfully the two main events were really good rather than just “fun”, as two Kiwi fighters did the biz, and outclassed their very capable opponents.

The main event fights were quite similar to each other, in that you had a rangy, lean New Zealander using his reach to pick off his more – let’s face it – workmanlike opponent. The most impressive was, rather predictably, Israel Adesanya, who has made a career of flamboyantly beating the tar out of less virtuoso opposition.

What was really impressive was the fact that his schlub this time was the rather excellent Robert Whittaker, who was the defending champion and had beaten the godlike Yoel Romero. UFC like their “champ vs champ” scenarios, and Whittaker had been off sick for a while, meaning Adesanya was the interim champion.

Within two rounds, Adesanya was the everything champion. Much like his idol Anderson Silva, Izzy tends to spend a few minutes timing his opponent before knacking their faces off in artistic fashion. As he did here. Whittaker never really looked comfortable, unable to overcome the reach discrepancy, and being made to miss by an elusive Adesanya, who spent most of the fight with his arms by his waist. Whittaker would reach in, miss, and then get countered. Until he was hit one too many times and the ref waved it off. Really impressive, and at the minute, Adesanya is clearly the best middleweight in the world.

While less of a virtuoso, Adesanya’s compatriot Dan Hooker very efficiently outpointed New York’s “Raging” Al Iaquinta. Again, he made Al fight at an uncomfortable distance, but this was more a case of strategy than instinctual brilliance.

The outcome was similar. Iaquinta, who is mainly very tough and managed to go the distance with a very conservative Khabib Nurmagomedov once, kept rushing in and trying to make it a brawl. At that he was more successful than Whittaker. For one, he made it the distance. But Hooker took his legs out with a succession of low kicks, meaning Raging Al had even less spring with which to leap in. In fairness, this was more of a contest, but by the time the judges had to deliberate, there wasn’t much of a choice to make.

There were some heavyweights. Man, I have written enough at this point, and you couldn’t really tell much from them other than Sergey Spivak had a really old school (like, Pride in 2000) fight with Tai Tuivasa based around head and arm takedowns, and in the fight between two lumbering heavies, Yorgan De Castro hit Justin Tafa hard before Tafa hit him hard. I’m not convinced any of them will ever be champion, mind. Undisputed or otherwise.

Main player: Israel Adesanya.

UFC 241

Well, I just watched the damn UFC.

I was expecting Daniel Cormier to have another pretty easy heavyweight title fight against previous champion Stipe Miocic, despite the Croatian-American’s size and reach advantage. I was wrong.

I was right for a while. DC nearly ended it in the first round, after a combination of quicker hands, an amazing takedown and perfect top control. it got closer in rounds two and three, as Stipe was better able to make some space and use his reach to prevent DC from coming in so easily.

But the knockout from Miocic in the fourth was surprising. He started laying some left hands into DC’s midsection, which all went unblocked. Which I guess is understandable, because it’s boxing 101 to make a guy block the body and leave the head open.

I didn’t see DC drop his hands, but maybe he had the wind knocked out of him. Either way, Stipe landed a shot to the jaw. Then another. Suddenly, Cormier was against the cage, then in a heap. The shots kept coming, and the former champion was once more.

I often don’t give Miocic sufficient credit. Maybe it’s because he didn’t impress early in his UFC career, and for me primacy seems to be key. But I can’t really argue with him after this. It’s just a shame, as I liked the DC legacy angle, and I’m now not sure what is left in the heavyweight division.

Elsewhere on the card, Nate Diaz had a successful return to the Octagon after years out, as he did a number on Anthony Pettis at welterweight. It was pretty standard Diaz fare, but no less exciting for it. He put a ton of pressure on the shorter man, pouring the mid-strength, very fast punches, rather than going for a hail Mary shot. Pettis was game as ever, going for submissions on the ground against the Cesar Gracie black belt. But Diaz was too good, on the feet and the ground, and he won the well earned decision.

The other big fight for me was the return of the monster Yoel Romero, against the hard hitting He-Man figure Paulo Costa. Again, it was a story of pressure, as Costa walked Romero down, and hit him with regular power shots. Romero hit plenty of shots back, but he seemed to lack the quickness and – as the punches added up – the pep, as he resorted to sticking his tongue out after each decent strike he took.

Romero, as well as the takedowns he uses to blast people to the ground, is mainly known for his explosive strikes. He fights like Bayman from Dead or Alive (remember him?), as he explodes into combos from almost stillness. But though he often seems to create space by magic, he was unable to do this under the Costa pressure – there was no room to breathe, let alone chuck a spinning kick. A shame as I love Yoel.

And it’s worth mentioning Colby Covington. Even though he wasn’t fighting, he still managed to get the biggest reaction of the whole show. He entered the arena as an audience member, and though there was a fight on, the place erupted into “Colby sucks!” chants. Even in my days of watching pro-wrestling, very few heels got that kind of heat. Pretty impressive.