The Dragon's Cache: Westminster Palace

Showing posts with label Westminster Palace. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Returning to London with The Saint

Saint or Stooge? Templar or traveler?
Adventurer or Ad-libber?
Wise, or merely weary (and jet-lagged)?
You decide.

In The Saint episode “The Paper Chase,” Simon Templar walks across Westminster Bridge. Against a dull, gray sky, Westminster Palace, also known as the Houses of Parliament, rises in the distance. As he walks down the steps to the Victoria Embankment, we hear him intone: “London, Five a.m., Westminster. The Embankment, a boulevard or a bedroom, depending on how Fate dealt its hand. For those of us who are not asleep it is a time to love, pray, hate, argue, cheat, sometimes even kill.” He walks past a man sleeping on a park bench, covered in newspapers, and pauses to stare out upon the Thames. Already, boats ply the dark waters. Nearby, two men argue. Although he does not yet know it, he will soon become embroiled with those two men, when a member of British Intelligence begs him to travel to Germany to secure information one of them carries.

The Saint came before my time. Growing up in America, I did not notice all the books written by Leslie Charteris in my library. I did not watch reruns on the TV. If the comic strips made their way to American newspapers, I did not notice. When the movie version of “The Saint,” starring Val Kilmer, appeared in theaters in 1997, I knew nothing of the character’s rich fictional heritage.

Discovering this old TV series has been a joy. Everyday, Family Network plays an episode. Some were shot in Black and White, some in Color. Much of the scenery grows familiar after awhile, as studio interiors and exteriors are redressed to match the current story. Many of the same actors reappear, playing different characters. Only the Saint remains unique, mysterious. What is he? Who is he? Why do the authorities constantly suspect him of wrongdoing, yet rely on his assistance in bringing criminals to justice? How does he manage to live such a lavish lifestyle, have so many friends, and drop anything on a moment’s notice for a person in need? Played by Roger Moore, who would later take over the role of James Bond, Simon Templar seems a better man than the more famous secret agent. Watching him as The Saint, I understand why I liked Roger Moore so well as Bond. Perhaps some of the Saint rubbed off on him. Roger Moore was certainly aware of how young people idolized Bond, and always fought to soften the rough edges of Ian Fleming's hero. Unlike Timothy Dalton and Daniel Craig, his James Bond never gloated when vanquishing an enemy. He never smiled while others died.

The British call these dolphins.
Don't ask me why.

“The Paper Chase” comes as something of a surprise. Although it would return to some of those familiar sets, the episode offers us a few new production locations. Simon Templar boards a train, and like James Bond, soon engages in a fight-to-the-death as he travels to Germany. But my favorite moment of all is the beginning, when he steps off Westminster Bridge and onto the Victoria Embankment. For I have been there too. At the time, my thoughts might have been on Doctor Who and Monty Python, but I walked those same steps, passed those same light posts, and watched the boats traveling the same river. When next I return to England, and visit London, I shall return to that place so immortalized by the TV shows I love. I may not be dressed in a tuxedo, and I may not be drafted by British Intelligence for an important mission, but my visit there will still be rich with meaning.

Perhaps this time I’ll even ride the London Eye, the famous ferris wheel erected to celebrate the Millennium. That’s probably the only thing Simon Templar couldn’t have done back in 1960s London. But only because it did not then exist.

Dragon Dave

Related Dragon Cache entries

Westminster Bridge in Color,and in Black and White

Monty Python on WestminsterBridge

Keeping an Eye on the RiverThames

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Welcomed into the Palace of Westminster

Beckoned toward our temporary home by an illuminated Big Ben, we walked past Westminster Palace, only to find that the line was nonexistent, and that Security was still letting people inside.

After being scanned, probed, photographed, and our belongings x-rayed, we were issued with badges displaying our names and faces. We walked through the security room, out into a courtyard, and then into another building, which we learned was the old parliament building. From atop the steps of this cavernous room, President Obama had addressed England’s cabinet ministers and both houses of parliament the previous week. The building was filled with statues and other points of interest, but as the House of Commons had retired for the evening, we hurried upstairs, intent upon visiting the House of Lords before they too called their deliberations to an end.

At another checkpoint, we were required to handover all cameras, phones, packages, and even our jackets to a cloakroom attendant. So, just as Moses could not gaze directly upon the Lord’s face, so we could not photograph the faces of English lords.

While the greeters had given us several brochures, none explained to my satisfaction how the House of Lords differs from its more popular cousin. From the “Yes, Prime Minister” episode “The Bishop’s Gambit,” I know that some of the older bishoprics include a seat in the House of Lords. From “Yes Minister” and its sequel I know that one way the Prime Minister can curtail an ambitious minister’s power is to make him a Lord. Alternatively, for a politician who cares more about serving the public than swaying the electorate, or who merely wishes to enjoy the status associated with being an English Lord, I gather that such a “promotion” would be welcomed.

A TV show, a play, and a learning experience?

The chamber of the House of Lords is smaller than the House of Commons, and while arranged similarly, its chairs and benches are upholstered in red, not green. We sat in the visitors’ balcony, and looked down on a chamber that was barely half-full. The Lords were discussing an issue regarding what was appropriate for appointed (not elected) officials who performed certain police-type duties in their community. Obviously, the topic held us enthralled. The Lords took no notice of us, but participated contentedly in their debate. The instant one sat down, another rose to comment upon the previous Lord’s statement, or to make a point of his own.

Watching with us were not only TV cameras, but also carved life-size figures holding weaponry such as swords, which gave the chamber a regal feeling one may not get from the chambers of less-historic government bodies. But impressive or not, there is only so much interest in the domestic debates of another country that can be summoned up after a day spent (mostly) on one’s feet. So we left the House of Lords, and picked up ice cream bars along the way back to our hotel to put a sweet finish to our busy day.

In our room, we flipped channels, and watched as the coverage of the debate continued. Unlike the House of Commons, in which a member of parliament (MP) will have to ignore cheers and jeers while he is speaking, the Lords’ conduct was more dignified. There might have been the occasional “Here, here,” but no one booed another member of chamber, necessitating that the person orchestrating proceedings bang his gavel and demand quiet. The greeters I had spoken with had said that the House of Lords is largely powerless these days, that it was in the process of reform, that gradually England was doing away with life-time appointments, and moving toward a point where all members were elected for shorter terms. It is not my place to judge the merits of their reform process, but one wonders what will be lost in the process. Will the House of Lords emerge as dignified as they are now, if those arguing in the red chamber are more aware of the cameras televising the debate? Will they be as concerned with weighing a particular issue’s merits, as opposed to grandstanding for viewers, if in the near future they must seek the voters’ approval to serve another term? Time, the great revealer, alone knows the answer to that question.