THE BORGIAS: Visually Stunning, Even Better Acted

Years ago, when The Borgias began airing, casting well-known film actors in TV series was not yet the norm. Today, it surprises no one – just look at Big Little Lies with Nicole Kidman and Reese Witherspoon, Westworld with Anthony Hopkins, The Young Pope with Jude Law, or Taboo with Tom Hardy. In 2011, when Neil Jordan was assembling the cast for The Borgias, he chose Jeremy Irons for the role of Pope Alexander VI – and his name alone could serve as a short review of the series.

Jeremy Irons radiates charisma in every scene, even when he’s facing away from the viewer. He plays both despot and tender father with equal ease; a slight twitch of his eyebrow conveys displeasure, a barely noticeable corner-lift of the mouth – amusement.

He is haughty, proud, and vengeful. Irons doesn’t dip below a certain standard of acting for even a second, and he set the bar very high for himself. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen such a brilliant, yet light and effortless performance – whether in a film or a TV show.

We meet Rodrigo Borgia on the day of the conclave – we watch him bribing cardinals and becoming Pope Alexander VI as a result. But anyone who assumes that a series about a clergyman must be boring would be mistaken.

Borgia functions more as a politician than a pope. He will do anything to hold on to power – nepotism, simony, blackmail are not foreign to him. He appoints his sons, Juan (David Oakes) and Cesare (François Arnaud), to high-ranking positions; his daughter Lucrezia (Holliday Grainger) must be married off as quickly as possible to a prince from an allied state to secure political support. In his free time, he visits his lover – after all, who cares about celibacy. And despite all this, Borgia can still be a caring, loving father and husband, capable of remorse and the desire to atone for his sins. He swings from one extreme to another – and Jeremy Irons makes it all completely believable.

The series, however, is uneven. For example, the first season was largely spent with characters gazing wistfully into each other’s eyes and delivering romantic monologues by a pond in the woods. Cesare and Lucrezia also spent a lot of time hugging – ideally nose to nose – so the viewer wouldn’t miss the incestuous undertones. That subplot was dropped entirely in season two, only to be remembered again in season three, and quite unexpectedly moved from suggestion to action without warning. In any case – while the first ten episodes had sappy, dull moments, the following ones significantly reduced the soap opera scenes. This worked in the show’s favor, as the focus shifted to intrigue and politics. And even if some events were predictable – even without in-depth knowledge of history, which the show took quite a few liberties with – the whole thing was incredibly gripping.

It also helps that The Borgias looks absolutely stunning. Again – nowadays it’s standard for shows to flaunt high production values, but in 2011, TV mega-productions weren’t yet commonplace.

Every shot in The Borgias is artistic, carefully composed, ready to print and hang on a wall, with every other frame clearly inspired by classical painting. While you can sometimes spot repeated locations, it doesn’t diminish the viewing pleasure at all. It’s simply a thirty-hour-long film – just an expensive one. Each episode cost nearly five million dollars, only slightly less than Game of Thrones that same year.

Neil Jordan, the show’s producer, had a four-season narrative plan. The final season was never made – due to costs. The result was an underwhelming ending, which worked well as a season finale, but was unremarkable as the conclusion of the entire series. Showtime crunched the numbers and decided that even a feature film to close the Borgia story would be too expensive. There’s no denying – the budget shows on screen. On one hand, it’s hard to blame the decision, but on the other, it’s a great shame that so much potential was left unrealized.

Somewhat recklessly, I binge-watched The Borgias and then immediately started The Young Pope. I haven’t finished watching yet, so maybe I’ll take these words back, but so far I feel the difference in quality very sharply. Despite the completely different style – The Borgias focuses more on intrigue, while The Young Pope is more about atmosphere and Pius XIII’s internal struggles with the role – the latter doesn’t hold up in comparison. It looks very average, is just as averagely acted, and completely fails to engage. If you were enchanted by The Young Pope, give The Borgias a try.

You’ll probably experience aesthetic shock – but trust me, it’s worth it.