Tag: bs spoilers

Flint’s duels with Joji and Hands

sweetsunrayssr:

weapon duel breakdown basics, warning: 4×09 spoilers

A lot of people believe that Joji had better skill and Hands went down too easily, and thus the duels were plot gifts for Flint. I disagree completely. The duels were actually an expose of what makes the ultimate advantage in a duel against an opponent using different weapons other than a broadsword.

Here are basic duel logics on who has the advantage:

1. Skill and expertise in your weapon of choice. Flint is likely one of the best three broadsword fighters in the show. Joji is the expert with his katana. Hands is an expert in wielding two weapons – cutlass and hammer with spike. Flint dispatches several men wielding broadswords with great or relative ease. Billy has less expertise in the broadsword than Hands has with his 2 weapons, and lacks experience in defending against 2 weapons. Hence Hands could dispatch Billy so quickly.

2. Physical fitness and strength. The stronger, the fitter, the more agile, the taller a fighter is the more he has a personal physical advantage over his opponent, and it could make the difference if the duelists are of equal expert skill. Remember the duel between Blackbeard and Flint. Same weapons, same skill, but Flint weakened after living weeks on rations. Duel between Billy and Flint in 4×02: Billy has the length and power over Flint, but just not as skillfull.

3. Distance > manouvaribility > sharpness. The longest weapon has a distance advantage, because it allows the duelist to harm the opponent without requiring your body to come into the danger zone of the opponent’s weapon(s). Joji’s katana is longer than Flint’s broadsword, very flexible in use because of its two handed grip, and deadly sharp overall, more so than a broadsword. Flint’s broadsword however is longer than Israel’s cutlass and hammer, and sharper.

4. Having optimal space for your weapon. You need the space that matches your fighting technqiue and your ability to optimally wield your weapon. While a spear is longer than a sword and can prick someone dead as easily as a swordpoint, theoretically a spear has an advantage over a sword, especially if the spear wielder is an expert in wielding it to block, knock and stab the opponent. But that is only true when the fighter has the space to wield it around. Put the fight in a small corridor and the spear wielder loses that advantage altogether, and would do better in dropping the spear and draw out a dagger instead. 

Joji versus Flint

Assume both are equally skilled in their weapon of preference. Joji has the weapon advantage and fighting technique in his optimal space, when he can also use his legs to trip Flint. That is what we see at the start of the duel.

As soon as Flint realizes he is outmatched in this manner and nearly has his head chopped off, he moves away from Joji’s optimal space and draws back into the trees. Flint starts to lure Joji into a more confined space, so Joji cannot use his legs anymore and the slight difference in weapon length might still put him in a disadvantage, but just not as much anymore. Still, the katana remains an advantage in flexibility. Flint manages to defend himself barely in this phase of the duel based on muscle power. But he sees his chance, and drags the both of them into a ditch and close contact position. On their knees and this close to one another, Joji has lost all his advantages, while Flint has the strength upperhand.

Result: Joji dies.

Israel Hands versus Flint

Assume again that both are equally skilled in their weapon of preference and required fighting technique. 

Hands uses two weapons, both shorter ones than Flint’s sword. In that sense Hands is always at a distance disadvantage against any opponent with a broadsword, whether that is Jacob, Billy or Flint. He is a tough guy but not the tallest either. Because Hands has to always put himself in bodily harm’s way against anyone with a sword, his advantage relies on agility on the one hand, and the opponent not having any expertise to defend himself against 2 weapons. We see Hands win against Jacob and Billy for these reasons. He gets into the danger zone, deals a blow, a cut and dances away again to avoid and parry a swoard at a safer distance.

Hands’ foremost issue is that Flint knows how to defend himself against 2 weapons. Hands cannot come in and strike a cut or blow. You may also have noticed that Hands seemed to fight far more stiffly than against Billy and Jacob. His arms are outstretched and stiff. It looks like he cannot fight anymore all of a sudden. Well that’s true and not true. Hands has not lost his skill, he just cannot use it as he usually does, because Flint doesn’t allow him to get close. And now Hands is forced to try and hurt Flint without going near Flint’s sword. So, he creates a bigger distance than he usually does, by stretching his arms, thereby losing his felxibility.

Then consider the environment. It is an open space, optimal enough for Flint’s sword, and yet too slippery for Israel’s dance in and dance away tactic. To win this duel, Israel had only one option – do what Flint did with Joji. Hands should have drawn Flint into a close and confined area, though he would still risk being outforced by Flint.

Conclusion

In both duels, Flint managed to gain or keep advantage because of his tactical choice of fighting space.

The idea that the only meaning that can be gleaned from hearing Silver’s backstory is that the world is “full of unending horrors” completely shifted my idea of why Silver never divulged it in the first place.

I always saw the secret of his story as a tool – as a way to have something over other people. For grifter Silver, for loner Silver that was an asset in manipulation because he could be whatever he wanted to be in any given moment.

But after this interaction, I think it’s possible that he’s ashamed of his backstory, and of his life. His childhood was perhaps a million times worse than anything that we could have ever imagined, and he is ashamed of it.

And so he stands opposed to Flint in this sense, because while Flint acknowledges how his past shaped him, how it motivated him, how it still motivates him, Silver absolutely and resolutely refuses to be defined by his past. He needs it to not have meaning, while Flint needs it to mean everything.

But in a way you could argue that it has already had meaning. The fact that Silver was so determined to be a loner always suggested to me that he’d been hurt by people. But the aspect of shame is a surprise. Because you can tell on some level he wants to give Flint what he wants; he’s not being stubborn or defiant. He’s – in a lot of ways – apologizing. You know all that I can bear to be known, I’m sorry.

So I feel like this gave us a window, even though it’s a backstory that’s not a backstory. But in a way that’s beautiful too – our imaginations are pretty strong. So if you give me a backstory that’s too hard for Silver to even relate to his closest friend, my imagination is going to go to all the horrible recesses of the world.

I also feel like this explains a lot. He started out a loner, a decided loner. But once he’s offered a community – once he finally finds a home – the lengths to which he is willing to go for the sake of that community starts to make so much sense.

Every move he’s ever made starts to make sense; all of season 3, his attempts to gain Flint’s respect, and his attempts to finally have people, a crew, a home. He goes to such extremes to guarantee that he somehow holds onto whatever he’s got now. He holds his world together with both hands.

If his childhood was so horrible, and he was such a decided loner, it’s like he didn’t have the muscle memory to know how to do relationships. Even though he was really good at reading people – that’s something that people who have experienced abuse know how to do very well.

So this could explain why he eventually becomes so tied to people. Why he became so devoted to his crew, why he became so devoted to Flint, and why he becomes so devoted to Madi. Because suddenly he was offered something he’s never had – a whole slew of things he’s never had, and perhaps even things that he never even knew he wanted.

And it’s in this conversation with Flint that we get another beat of whether or not something is enough, mirroring his earlier conversation with Madi.

“Can that be enough, can there still be trust between us?”

The tragedy is that you can see very clearly on Flint’s face that the answer is no. Flint didn’t answer – but the non-answer said enough.

And yet, in this episode, even though you can tell that the answer is no, Flint is so willing to get past that, to take the leap of faith. He still shows absolute trust in and loyalty to Silver, but he cannot be certain. When it comes down to it, he cannot know for sure whether or not Silver will make the right call.

Flint knows how much his backstory, how much his baggage with Thomas and with Miranda influences his actions and keeps him from seeing what is true. But he doesn’t know Silver’s backstory. By not divulging the secrets of his past, Silver leaves room for Flint to guess. And for a man like Flint – one who needs to be in absolute control all the time, who needs to see the inner workings of every single piece on the chess board so he can strategise accordingly – for a man like that to take a leap of faith like this, at a time like this, is as astounding as it is beautiful.

The old Flint would have most likely killed Silver and gotten him out of his way rather than go for such a risky and potentially astronomically costly gamble. And it’s this divergence that reinforces what we see clearly in this whole episode – that Flint does love Silver. It’s that simple. He desperately wants Silver to live and to be a part of this.

Fathoms Deep, 409; on Silver’s backstory and his relationship with Flint (via jamesvflint)

More thoughts on the flashbacks

corsaircourser:

My fic went sideways on me, not in a bad way, but differently than I was expecting, and I was trying to figure out why.  I was planning on witty banter, swordplay and sparring, and maybe some sexy making-out; what I ended up with was introspective and kind of quiet and all about love. 

And then it hit me, what was so different about those flashback scenes for me, and about Flint and Silver in them.  Flint was so gentle in them.  That rage and pain and violence that has been his hallmark for most of four seasons is nowhere to be seen, ever, at all.  He is measured, clever, smiling, a teacher.  His incredible fighting skills are shown in formal, measured paces. Silver lies to his face and he quietly insists on acknowledging it, but when Silver panics, he rushes to assure him, I’m not angry with you.  And he isn’t. He’s confused and curious and worried, but not angry. James Flint.  NOT ANGRY. And that’s enough to make us pause and think and really look at the scenes in an entirely different way, more carefully, because it’s unexpected and strangely precious, like we’re given a new glimpse into a character we feel like we already know so well.

And Silver.  He is not the Long John Silver we’ve seen all this season, tense and vicious and controlled.  He freaks out in about fifteen directions simultaneously as soon as he realizes the avenue the ‘past’ conversation is headed down, and you can almost watch him run through his deflections in order:  first, smile and flirt and offer an insincere alternative, then derail, then get indignant, then (for the first time) beg.  His voice when he said “why isn’t it true?” was so small and young it broke my heart.  He was honest, too, when he so quickly and hurriedly muttered “I don’t want you to know mine,” and it was raw like we’ve never seen from him.  Even his face is open, the expressions running across it for the world to see. He is uncertain and unsure, needing wisdom and validation and reassurance from Flint, and then he gets those things, and it’s both gorgeous and heartbreaking all at once.

So here we have two men, framed in these montages of training for war, but as gentle and honest and open as they’ve ever been with each other.  The dichotomy is striking and arresting and draws the eye and mind back again and again to marvel at it. 

The all-black outfits didn’t hurt either.

If Toby Stephens and Luke Arnold don’t get all the awards for this season, for the incredible nuance and depth and sheer soul they bring these characters, I swear to god, I’m gonna riot.

unstatedmartini:

you know what i can’t stop thinking about, is how flint lost both thomas and miranda because of men like alfred hamilton and peter ashe. men who were supposed to be reasonable, restrained, able to see the bigger picture. men who were supposed to be civilized. men exactly like woodes rogers. 

it seems to me that so much of flint taking the cache in that clumsy, obvious way, risking silver’s trust in him, causing the foreseeable deaths of good men, is driven by his sheer panic at the thought of losing madi exactly the same way he lost thomas and miranda. he’s terrified of putting faith in the restraint of a civilized man and being repaid with horror. that’s why over the past couple episodes he is repeatedly, almost frantically insistent that they need to be rescuing madi RIGHT THE FUCK NOW, while they still have the cache. yes, flint cares about the war, and keeping the cache keeps the war alive (and, at this point, it’s madi’s war as much as it was ever his). but also the cache represents leverage of the kind he never had before. james mcgraw/flint never had a goddamn thing that the alfred hamiltons or peter ashes of the world wanted as much as they wanted to silence and erase inconvenient people like thomas and miranda. with the cache, he does. he can’t allow it to be traded away in the hopes that woodes rogers will be civilized. 

IDK, i just love so much that the ultimate test of silver and flint’s relationship isn’t silver’s love for madi versus flint’s need for a war. it’s that they both love madi. they’re both desperate to rescue her. neither of them see a future without her. silver believes (with pretty good reason!) that he can write his own story – his own happy ending reflecting his own priorities – and feels deeply betrayed when flint won’t play his part, especially when silver’s stories have benefited flint and his damn war so many times in the past. but flint can’t accept silver’s story of compromise and trade-offs, not because he cares less for madi, but because his own story is that of England taking everything and leaving nothing, over and over again. to flint, anything…the end of his partnership with silver, the death of the crew, his own death…anything would be better than making that silver and madi’s story as well.