In a few days, HBO will air the last episode of Rome, its two-season series about the rise and fall of Caesar (Season One) and Mark Antony (Season Two). Apparently the cost of producing the show became prohibitive, despite the raves and ratings it regularly gathered, so HBO's ending it outright, even though there are hundreds of years of possible stories to tell. Too bad, but this blog’s wondering if HBO will be tempted to end the show in a fashion familiar to viewers, rather than merely follow history, given the programme’s willingness to junk history for spectacle. (See, for example, Brutus’ death in battle rather than his historical suicide.) So, let’s consider some of the possibilities:- Camera comes in on a woman in bed, and then pans up to reveal the sleeping figure of Calpurnia. She wakes up, rubs her eyes, and sleepily makes her way to the vomitorium (last night being what it was); and there she discovers--- gasp and haw--- Caesar, alive and well! It was a dream! It was all a dream!
- Or, in a similar fashion, Pompey wakes up one morning to find himself in bed with Suzanne Pleshette. (A Pompous circumstance, no less.)
- Octavian, having eradicated Antony and Cleopatra accordingly, sails away from the Egyptian shore and discovers that Antony has left, in stone marks upon the pyramids, the word "Goodbye." [Cue "Suicide Is Painless" as everyone begins crying and rending their garments.]
- Alternately, Octavian, sailing away, perceives three figures, covered in something vaguely resembling powdered-sugar: the ghosts of the First Triumvirate. Caesar gently pats Pompey on the shoulder, while Mark Antony appears, finally at peace with himself. Octavian then goes off and, ahem, "hugs" his sister, while soldiers dressed as teddy-bears dance goofily in celebration.
- Antony goes backwards and forwards on his commitments to Octavia and Cleopatra, and takes off, ostensibly to marry one or the other, while his friends idle about and drink, lamenting the end of an era. Eventually Antony returns, miraculously single, reclaims Egypt, and gets royally sauced with his much-more-important-than-women fellows in drink. A ninety-minute reunion episode follows, hosted by Jay Leno.
- Octavian and Pullo, sauntering away from the dead Tony and Cleo, gaze knowingly at one another, until Octavian suggests that this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
- Octavian, now Augustus Caesar, is drinking wine in Agrippa’s office, just having discharged Posca for his latest information. Then Octavian looks into the bottom of his goblet, as Agrippa explains the order to his chaos, saying that you have to see the whole picture. Cassius, Cassius, Cassius: and there at the bottom of the goblet, the maker of it, while the camera pans away to a lean and hungry bastard walking gleefully away. "The greatest trick the devil ever pulled...."
- Frogs fall on Egypt. But at this time, no one can be bothered to notice.
- Antony, in committing suicide, swears, upon that dying sword, that it’s a far, far better thing that he does than he has ever done before. No one, curiously, disagrees with him.
- Atia, returned to Rome, so much having happened, rests in bed, caressing herself. And yes he would say yes he would yes, she moans, as the closing credits roll.
- Octavian chases Antony and Cleopatra to the top of the Sphinx, where, naturally, she falls off and hangs by the creature’s nose, until he pulls he up (Octavian having fallen off in the interim), and pulls her into a sweet and decadent embrace. On a barge and in a bunk together. (Surprise, surprise.)
- Marcus Aurelius appears, and snottily says, "Stop this! Stops this!" He immediately arrests the entire cast and shuts down production.
- Octavian and Agrippa, successful at last in their vanquishing of Antony ("that’s Anthony!") and his scourge, sail off into Mediterranean--- and then inexplicably land. They debark and walk into the sunset, toward a waiting limousine, which carries them off as an appropriate Eastern anthem burgeons....
/and, yeah, I guess I’m kinda back; kinda....
// and yeah, made it all this with way without a Caligula reference. I must be getting mild in my old age.
FOLLOWUP: Naturally, it ended with a little bit of historical fantasy. I'll be kind and not spoil it, but suffice to say there was a little Caesarion resectioning, with a note of Casablanca to boot. Oy vey.
