Podcast
Culture
S&U interviews
Weirdness
5 min read

My conversation with... Tom Holland

Noticing that Tom Holland is the star of The Rest Is Politics Christmas special, Belle Tindall is remembering her conversation with the historian earlier this year.

Belle is the staff writer at Seen & Unseen and co-host of its Re-enchanting podcast.

A man sits at a table speaking into a microphone but looks into the distance. Behind him, through the window and beyond a wall is Big Ben
Tom Holland recording the podcast at Lambeth Palace Library.

In a festive one-off, two worlds have collided. Tom Holland, of the beloved 'The Rest is History' podcast, has joined Rory Stewart and Alistair Campbell in their 'The Rest is Politics' parallel universe. They spend a merry hour talking through religion, politics and the way in which they have both shaped our modern world... plus dinosaurs, always dinosaurs. 

And it got me reminiscing - my mind drifted back to earlier in this slightly odd year, on the eve of the coronation, when we had the one and only Tom Holland on our podcast. We called that episode of the podcast - Re-Enchanting History and the Coronation - but for me, it could just as aptly be entitled Re-Enchanting the Weird.  

Below is a reflection that I wrote immediately after that fascinating episode was recorded. If you've enjoyed his appearance on The Rest is Politics, you may just enjoy his appearance here too. 

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Re-Enchanting the Weird

Let me start in the proper place, with introductions.  

If you are a fan of history, Tom needs no introduction. But, for those of you who are not yet acquainted with his wonderfully infectious expertise, Tom is the co-host of the beloved podcast, The Rest is History (alongside Dominic Sandbrook). He is also the best-selling author of Rubicon, Persian Fire, Dominion, and the up-coming book for children, The Wolf-Girl, The Greeks, and The Gods. Justin Brierley and I recently had the pleasure of soaking up a little of Tom’s extensive knowledge when we interviewed him for a Coronation special of Seen and Unseen’s Re-Enchanting podcast.  

Tom’s most recent book, Dominion, charts the mighty impact that the Christian revolution has had; beginning with its unexpected origins and following its cultural reverberations through to the present age, highlighting its very present influence. We are, to borrow Tom’s own phrase, a society of goldfish who are (perhaps unknowingly) swimming in a distinctly Christian fishbowl. And so, our conversation began there – as he pointed out that, like it or not, the West operates in the residue of the Christian revolution. Christianity has been hidden in plain sight all along. For the sake of eloquence, I’ll let Tom explain:  

‘The conceit of the West is that it’s transcended Christianity to become purely universal, purely global. But its values, its assumptions, its ethics remain palpably bred of the marrow of Christianity’.  

Throughout our conversation, Tom took us on a whistle-stop tour of what was, what is, and the thread that can be drawn between the two. And while I don’t wish to spoil things for you, I imagine you can guess what the thread is. This conversation touches upon the origins of democracy (as we perceive it), the Reformation and the Nazis, to name but a few. I couldn’t recommend it enough. But I must warn you, you cannot un-hear Tom’s observations. The things he points out, you simply cannot un-see. Christianity will no longer be hidden; it will just be in plain sight.  

Seen as it is within in touching distance, we also wanted to get Tom’s thoughts on the Coronation. And this is where the re-enchantment of the weird began. At least, for me.  

The very notion of this upcoming Coronation is odd. It is a distinctly peculiar event.  

Firstly, it is incredibly old. We are the only country in the world that still does this particular thing in this particular way. What we will see unfold before us is derived from the 10th Century, when King Edgar was coronated by St. Dunstan, and yet it goes back further still - its roots actually lie in Bronze Age Israel.  

During the Coronation, the ancient and the modern will converge. As spectators, we will be peeking into times gone by; as Tom (rather excitedly) said, watching this ceremony, and everything that will surround it, will be like ‘seeing a dinosaur… still alive… in a zoo’. I wrote that last week’s conversation with astrophysicist, Dr. Jennifer Wiseman, made me feel small – small in time and small in place. Well, in many ways, so did Tom’s thoughts on the Coronation. The ritual is so very old, and we, so very young.  

But there is more. Tom reminded us that the Coronation is not only old, it’s weird. It places the mystical, the supernatural, the sacred, and the down-right strange on centre stage.  

Nick Cave, who will be sitting in Westminster Abbey on the day despite not being much of a royalist, explained that he accepted the invitation purely because of its bewildering oddness. In his Red Hand Files, he wrote  

‘what I am also not is so spectacularly incurious about the world and the way it works, so ideologically captured, so damn grouchy, as to refuse an invitation to what will more than likely be the most important historical event in the UK of our age. Not just the most important, but the strangest, the weirdest.’  

Both Nick Cave and Tom Holland have allowed themselves the fun of being curious. Curious about the fact that something profoundly supernatural is about to be taken incredibly seriously in the heart of a so-called secular society. And whatever pragmatic questions I may have about the place of monarchy in the here and now, I think I will allow myself the fun of being curious about that too.  

My conversation with Tom re-enchanted the parts of Christianity that, as someone who grew up as a Christian, I used to be quite embarrassed by. Namely, the weirdest parts.  

As a teenager, my instinct was to minimise (at least in public) the aspects of the Christian faith that cannot be explained by rationalism. I used to keep quiet about the parts of my faith that outed me as someone who believed in things that are supernatural. I would try my absolute best to blur the details of the most obscure facets of Christian thinking. But, as Tom said, ‘a Christianity that has bled itself of enchantment is a pallid thing.’ And if there is one thing that the whole Jesus movement was not, it’s pallid.  

If you, like Tom Holland, crave enchantment, this episode will be for you. Afterall, what better place to go looking for the wonderfully weird than in the ‘greatest story ever told’?  

Review
Culture
Film & TV
Monsters
Sport
5 min read

Horror turns pro: when greatness demands blood

The pursuit of sporting glory turns into a fever-dream of sacrifice, madness, and mythic violence
A player holding a finger to his lips stands in front of an indoor American football pitch.
Marlon Wayans.
Universal Pictures.

October is here…spooky season. Naturally, I’ve decided to pivot exclusively to the horror genre, beginning with HIM

The promotion for the film has placed Jordan Peele (who stormed onto the scene with Get Out) front and centre, so much so that one might be forgiven for assuming that he is the writer/director. He isn’t. His Monkeypaw Productions have produced the picture, and so one can assume he has had some creative input, but the film is helmed by Justin Tipping. This is Tipping’s second feature film. He co-wrote it and directed it. Sophomore, but no slump here. The film is superb! 

All horror fiction explores contemporary themes in the mode of the ‘unnerving’, and often by adopting and then playing with the conventions of another genre. In the case of HIM it is ‘sport’ that takes a horrifying turn. We begin by meeting our protagonist, Cameron ‘Cam’ Cade, as a young boy. He is watching his favourite American football star, Isaiah White, take lead the ‘San Antonio Saviours’ to victory. In the process Isaiah is injured. Cam looks away. His father forces him to look at the television screen and take in the violent scenes, while giving a speech about the necessity of ‘sacrifice’. 

A decade or so later the father has died, and Cam is a rising star in the sport, tipped to be the next ‘GOAT’ (Greatest Of All Time), the most worthy successor to Isaiah White’s legacy. While practicing late one night he is violently assaulted by a figure in a goat costume. The resulting head injury puts his prospects into question. It is doubtful that he can even play football going forward. He and his family are devastated.  

‘Salvation’ seems to come when his agent calls him with an offer that seems too good to be true. The ‘Saviours’ are seeking to sign him as their quarterback, replacing Isaiah. All he must do to earn this great opportunity is to spend a week with Isaiah at his specialised training compound, to demonstrate his potential and win Isaiah’s blessing. He accepts, and travels to the remote compound. As his car pulls up, he encounters a number of Isaiah’s demented ‘fans’ (who operate more akin to the Manson Family) decrying him in violent screams. He brushes this off and enters to meet Isaiah. He finds him engaged in an odd form of taxidermy with the skulls and skins of goats. The two embrace and share warm words of respect and welcome. The training begins.  

What follows is a rapid descent into bloody madness. 

I won’t say much more for set-up; only that the following week quickly becomes less a training camp, and more a psychedelic fever-dream of physical and psychological torture. The film is gruelling to watch in the best way. Tipping directs this masterfully, disorientating the viewer with sudden jumps from wide shots to close-ups to X-ray inflected visions of the appalling damage endured by athletes seeking to achieve their best. The cinematography of Kira Kelly keeps this relentless confusion running throughout the entire film, playing with angles and stillness and sudden swoops. 

These visuals are supplemented by some terrific performances. From the exceptionally creepy ‘fans’, led by Naomi Grossman, to Jim Jeffries reigning his comedic persona in to play Isaiah’s jaded and sardonic personal doctor (who is constantly drawing Isaiah’s blood…uh oh!), to Tim Heidecker’s unctuous agent always grasping for more. The standouts, however, are Tyriq Withers as Cam and Marlon Wayans as Isaiah. Wayans, of the ‘comedy’ dynasty, is best known for dreadful ‘funny’ (not ‘dreadfully funny’) films, including the Scary Movie franchise. Every now and then he has demonstrated his serious acting chops, shining in Requiem for a Dream, but this performance ought to cement his reputation as a genuine talent.  

He is mesmerising as Isaiah, switching in an instant from quiet melancholy, when reflecting on this past glory and the nature of sporting sacrifice, to outright unhinged menace – screaming directly in Cam’s face when trying to motivate him to go further and further. He dominates every scene he is in and is the lynchpin of the film’s mood, his performance (effortlessly walking the tightrope above measured and manic) driving the bewilderment the film seeks to force upon its audience. He is aided by Withers’ straight-man, who masterfully maintains a quiet yearning in the face of bafflement. He is muted and introverted without ever disappearing into the background, and so is instrumental in supporting Wayans as he gives the performance of his career. 

In spite of all of this brilliance, I have one small critique. The film’s theme is…messy. It is also far less subtle than it thinks it is. Its focus on the pain and suffering of sporting excellence – which is displayed in the literal brutality of injury – and the idea of selling one’s body, health, and even soul for glory, is often undermined by supernatural and theological symbolism which interrupts the dramatic thematic force. The use of the goat, both as a verbal and visual symbol, is overdone, and is rather obvious to anyone who knows even a little of biblical or esoteric literature.  

Added to this, the constant reference to sacrifice, and to behaviour resembling the cultic, continues the on-the-nose hammering; cemented at the end when an actual pentagram is emblazoned on a football field. This is a shame, as the final scene is a well-earned, wonderfully slapstick celebration of horror-movie gore and splatter, undermined by the symbolic silliness. None of this is enough to ruin the film – I still think it is superb – but I would have preferred Tipping to make a choice: subtle realism, or all-out commitment to the supernaturally sinister. In trying to have-its-cake-and-eat-it the film compromises the bake…a slight soggy bottom of a denouement. 

The film just fails to be the GOAT of this year’s horror fare. Still, a jolly entertaining cinematic experience which I highly recommend for October viewing. 

4.5 stars. 

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