Now, where were we? Ah yes – Rome was awash with purged blood and uncomfortable alliances. In this week’s opening flash-forward, Old Clavdivs is fiddling, with ink-stained fingers, the jade talisman that failed to keep Germanicus safe. Like P[…]

Back to our regularly scheduled usual flash-forward, with Old Clavdivs guzzling wine in his study while writing and occasionally scratching his wig with a stylus. The voiceover recaps have returned, although he does appear to be alone, but inconsiste[…]

No flash-forward this week – instead, we open with a jolly dinner party scene. Titus and Lollia have various honoured guests in attendance, and they’re all enjoying some post-scran belly dancing via a nice lady their hostess found in Antioch.[…]

Oof, settle in, folks: this one is a doozy, representing some of the very worst alongside the very best.
The usual flash-forward does not help matters at all, from the onset. Old Clavdivs stumbles towards the communal can, clutching an oil lamp and c[…]

As per usual, we begin with a flash-forward to Old Clavdivs writing in his study when he’s presented with some research materials that were lost among the usual crap squirrelled away in cellars. It’s the final will and testament of Gaius Julius C[…]

The last time we saw old Clavdivs, he was seething with hatred. Now, he’s self-medicating his impotent rage with wine. We don’t linger for very long on his blank expression en route to numbness and sweet oblivion, but flash-forward to another fam[…]

I’ve been refining the criteria for the perfect work soundtrack over the past few years of work from home as standard and have narrowed the requirements accordingly. Anything with lyrics is too prone to distraction, and while binaural beats are oka[…]

So anyway, Gaius died. 
Old Clavdivs mumbles this to himself while ransacking his study for family history research material, so for the very first time, the opening flash forward actually serves a narrative purpose. He finds the letter he needs up […]

“Family Affairs” begins with disembodied Clavdivs summarising the last nine years of plot: Julia and Marcus Agrippa did get married, but then Livia poisoned Marcus Agrippa and forced Tiberius to divorce his wife Vipsania…somehow? This allowed T[…]

The opening credits for I, Claudius (or Clavdivs, if you will and you probably should, so let’s) have long since passed into National Treasure status. No doubt the most aggressive bugle you’ll ever hear outside military boot camps that bookends e[…]