When I was younger, I used to spend hours glued to the television at my grandparents’ house, casually flipping through the channels but usually ending up on three important ones. Channels 34, 44 and 46 were my holy trinity of Discovery Channel, Animal Planet and the History Channel. In the mid-aughts, one could rely on each for a combination of awe-inspiring content and genuine education about anything from sharks to chivalry. However, I was always taken by the entertaining and informative approach to the past and conquests I could get from the History Channel.
Of course, the days of such programming are long past, and I would bet that few consumers give any real time to those networks nowadays. However, Netflix’s original-content binge has rediscovered and reinvigorated a niche of storytelling beholden to our near-truths which are sometimes stranger (or at least more entertaining) than fiction.
Netflix’s forays into historical dramatization began in 2016 with the first season of “Roman Empire.” As a true-to- facts documentary, it almost assuredly comes short, but the production value is clear and brings often untaught stories of the Empire to light in an entertaining manner. With dramatized investigations into lesser-known but fascinating emperors like Commodus and Caligula, Netflix takes advantage of a gap in our general knowledge as an excuse to make use of Sean Bean’s skills as a narrator and produce a fascinating look into Roman politics in a digestible format.
At the end of 2019, and in the early days of 2020, Netflix released two more dramatized versions of historical turning points. “The Last Czars” covers the final years of the Romanov dynasty and the remarkable failings of Nicholas II at almost every turn imaginable. Personally, I remember very little teaching from any point in my education about the fall of the Romanovs. Prior to going through the series, my understanding was that Russia retreated from the first World War and magically transitioned from dynasty to Leninism in a short period of time, and there might have been some guy named Rasputin involved.
Four and a half hours later, I was decidedly less ignorant and terrified
of anyone with as dangerous a mixture of charisma and influence as Rasputin existing ever again. By positioning the fall of the Romanovs over a relatively short span of material, their descent from opulence to exile and termination is far more effective than any combination of words on a page in a similarly digestible medium.
“Ottoman Rising” chronicles the conquest of Constantinople in 1453 that toppled the remains of the Roman Empire and catapulted the Ottoman Empire onto the world stage. Much like those of the lesser-known Roman Emperors and final Russian monarchs, the story of Mehmed II and his history-altering conquest of the Middle Ages’ largest city was unjustly footnoted in the minds of most. The Ottoman Empire in general gets a backseat in our history books, and productions like this help bridge the information gap in a meaningful manner.
Like the other series, “Ottoman Rising” features asides from accredited experts to provide context at the expense of suspending belief. However, for me, this is probably the best approach to take in a genre that has a defined ceiling. One can feel the authenticity in the story derived from accurate castings, costumes, and just enough special effects to add enough war movie spectacle to what is truly an educational exercise.
Barring natural inclination to history, it can be quite difficult to find the time and determination to parse through monotonous Wikipedia pages (or
even worse, textbooks) to get a clearer picture of the world that was. Netflix
has been ominously clear in its desires to monopolize streaming content, which gives the viewer plenty of reason to fill in the blanks and errors left by each show in exchange for narrative value. While not perfect, this approach to making history digestible is worth commending and recommending as an introduction to the stories we forget and lessons we may not have learned otherwise.