The Legend of King Arthur (Rodney Bennett, 1979)

"Bright Caliope, come from Helicon[...]  Tell, Caliope, so that I might tell again as you relate; (whence the Britons came, what the origin of their name was, whence noble Britain had its kings); who Arthur was, what his deeds were, what his end - and how an unlucky nation lost its kingdom."
 - William of Rennes, Gesta Regum Britanniae (The Deeds of the Kings of Britain), c. 1236

I think, looking backward into the deep dark abysm of time, that my fascination with Arthuriana began when I was ten years old.  1989's 26th season of the BBC's Doctor Who opened with the story 'Battlefield', which was a tale of knights from a parallel dimension led by the witch queen Morgaine (a delightfully evil turn from the great Jean Marsh) and my youthful self was entranced with words and phrases like "the Forest of Celyddon" redolent of some kind of ancient mysticism - much as I would be later that same season with 'The Curse of Fenric' and its lexicon that included "the Well of Hvergelmir" that sparked my equal preoccupation with Norse mythology.  Seriously, that year's run of Who led to lots of trips to the library and much poring over of tomes.  Educational as well as entertaining, indeed.  Positively Reithian, dear boy.

I soon found myself pretty much wearing out an off-air VHS recording of John Boorman's 1981 Excalibur through repeated viewings, under the spell of Nicol Williamson's enigmatic Merlin and Helen Mirren's seductively evil Morgan, and over the years have accrued an Arthurian library encompassing everything from Thomas Malory to T.H. White to Chretien de Troyes and large (and expensive!) volumes of the mediaeval Vulgate Cycle.  Oh how my bookshelves yawn and creak like the ancient oak tree of some grove-dwelling Druid.  Obviously, i've also seen a great many filmic and televisual versions of the tales, from the high fantasy of Excalibur and Knights of the Round Table (Richard Thorpe, 1953 - notable mainly for Ava Gardner's Guinevere and Gabriel Woolf - "Neil before the might of Sutekh" himself! - as Percival) to the mud-soaked post-Roman grit of the 1972 HTV series Arthur of the Britons (recommended to any fans of archive telly) and Antoine Fuqua's 2004 Clive Owen vehicle King Arthur (disappointing).  I haven't watched Guy Ritchie's 2017 King Arthur: Legend of the Sword, because it looks and sounds rubbish.  You've burned me too many times, Ritchie.  Beep, beep.

Anyway, one TV adaptation that until now i'd never seen (but long wanted to, ever since I read about it in Mike Ashley's The Mammoth Book of King Arthur, which is well worth the purchase price) is the 1979 BBC eight-part series The Legend of King Arthur.  Like the coming of the rex quondam, rexque futurus himself - the time is finally at hand!

Adapted in serial fashion (rather than the episodic 'adventure of the week' format of Arthur of the Britons) in eight parts by none other than Mr Adaptation himself Andrew Davies - long before he was spinning Machiavellian webs with Francis Urquhart or bestowing us with the vision of a wet Darcy (though, personally, i'll most remember [and never forgive] him for Badger Girl) - the story follows all of the main story beats of Le Morte d'Arthur.  Filmed in the '70s BBC standard format of videotape for interiors and film for exterior shooting, the production nevertheless does not look cheap, being a co-production betwixt Auntie Beeb, Time-Life Television and the ABC (that's the Australian Broadcasting Commission, as opposed to either the American Broadcasting Company or the old Associated British Corporation).

Eschewing the mediaeval knights in anachronistic shining plate armour aesthetic of so many other Arthurian productions,  this is rooted firmly in a post-Roman Dark Ages waste land of broadsword-wielding Brythonic barbarians in bearskins and breeches; a realm where chieftains rule from timbered longhouses rather than faerie kings and queens reigning from dreaming-spired castellations.  Opening with the brutish warlord Uther Pendragon (Brian Coburn) demanding ownership of the lady Igrayne (Anne Kidd) from her husband Gorlois of Cornwall (the late genre veteran - and father of the next generation's genre veteran Mark - W. Morgan Sheppard) and triggering civil war, the stage is set for the tale to come.  After Gorlois is slain by Uther in battle, the ire of the young Morgan (a spirited performance from an eleven year old Patsy Kensit) is raised against both her new stepfather and Uther's spawn: her baby half-brother Arthur.  Pledging herself to the ways of magic under the wary tutelage of Merlin (a well cast Robert Eddison, who would ten years later play the aged Grail Knight in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade), Morgan le Fay grows into a red-maned witch clad in the robes of a nun (Doctor Who veteran Maureen O'Brien) with her sights still obsessively fixed upon her semi-sibling's ruination.  

When Arthur (Andrew Burt, memorable as Valgard in Doctor Who's 'Terminus' and lamentable as Jarvik in Blake's 7's cringe fest 'The Harvest of Kairos') reaches maturity as king, riding into battle against the rebellious chieftains fighting  under the banner of Jon Croft's Lot of Orkney whilst wearing a battle helmet strikingly similar in design to the famous Sutton Hoo helm, Morgan sets to work along with her dwarf minion Branic (Peter Burroughs) and the embittered knight Accolon of Gaul (Anthony Dutton) to destroy the incipient Order of the Round Table.  As the story follows the outline of the Malory tale, Arthur and Bors (Godfrey James) are slanted and enchanted by the witch in the woods and Excalibur stolen away and given to the treacherous Accolon who then challenges the king to a duel - with the recreant traitor wielding the blessed blade.  Though the trap is overcame and Accolon defeated, the Queen of Air and Darkness remains steadfast in her desire for Arthur's death and continues to weave her web of traps - including exploiting the love of the steadfast Lancelot (David Robb) for the fair Queen Guinevere (Felicity Dean) and turning the minds of Agravain (Niall Padden) and Mordred (Steve Hodson), brash and reckless younger sons of Lot, against the champion and his perceived infidelity.  When the fellowship of Camelot is sundered by warfare and Lancelot's dalliance with Eleanor of Escalot (Amanda Wissler) the lovesick and half sick of shadows Lady of Shalott which leads to her grief-stricken suicide, Morgan's plots comes to their fruition as Mordred frames the queen for murder and turns all the court against one another in a strife that leads inexorably to the carnage of the Battle of Camlann and the twilight of the Arthurian world.

A triumph of 1970s BBC television ingenuity and a valiant attempt to compress Malory's sprawling collation of tales into eight half hour episodes, The Legend of King Arthur surpasses - for my money, anyway - Boorman's Excalibur as the finest example of the Matter of Britain on film (and videotape, natch).

Now if you'll excuse me, i'm going to climb into my coracle and sail across the sundering sea to the misty vales of Avalon.