El Ministerio Del Tiempo Season 1: Episode 6

Archeologists find a cell phone in a spot that had been sealed off since the 16th century. It is a bit difficult to say if it belongs in a museum. (I wonder what Indiana Jones would say.) But it has quickly created a headache for everyone at the ministry. This mysterious phone belonged to one Alberto Díaz Bueno. A shady businessman who stole a lot of money, disappeared on parole and hasn’t been seen for a few years. There is one phone number that he repeatedly contacted that went to a burner phone/account. Of course it belongs to one Lola Mendieta. This babe is seriously mercenary.

The team is sent to Salamanca, while everyone’s favourite resident power femme Irene is sent to interrogate their other present shady businessman Senor Walcott who is being kept in the 11th century prison. Which also holds another man who brings up a lot of feelings for Irene. I am struck by the choice of the ministry to keep people in such an extreme environment. It is a significant crack in their facade as an even-keeled government agency who are trying to do right by the country and time itself. At what cost? Does it prevent progress?

Which brings us to where the team are about to land. Salamanca in the 16th century was an incredibly exciting place intellectually/academically. There was the school of Salamanca at the University which debated a lot of ideas and came up with the Juridical doctrine which rejected the medieval concepts of law in favour of the natural rights of man (the right to live, to own property, to have their own spiritual beliefs.) and that at heart all humans have the same nature and should have the same rights, dignity, and liberty. (This may surprise a few people who think that much of this was born in the 18th century but nope, people were wrestling with this even in the 15th and 16th centuries.)

The team roll out of a confessional into an abandoned church. (fun historical glitch note: confessionals didn’t become a thing until the very end of the 16th century with the Council of Trent: aka a big ol’ restructuring that didn’t really reform that much.) As it is the early days of the ministry in the early 16th century, the meet and greet is bare-bones. They have to rely on their map to get to town.

Irene has a chat with Walcott with whom she employs some next level interrogation tactics, that are probably frowned upon by the Geneva convention. She even references another country’s nasty history with prisoners. Again that moment of seeing that the ministry makes a lot of decisions in a morally grey way (like many governments).

Back on the road to Salamanca, Alonso sees a man being robbed by highway robbers and goes all bad-ass on them like Don Quixote -but successfully. They save a man named Lázaro. He brings up how wealthy sons who don’t have access to land/power prefer to rob vs. work. There is a very strong theme in this episode about the constant thread in history of those with power wanting to abide by a different set of rules from everyone else, and how much pain it causes. *glances at a copy of Marx*

Back at ye olde medieval dungeon, Irene encounters Leiva, the man who recruited her to the ministry —now held in this prison, close to death. He is being held there for the crime of defying the rules of the ministry and she says he could have snuck his son in to get treatment in another century, but he makes this point of principle that if he could have done it, then everyone should have the same access. Not one path for a few, but for all. What a novel idea. *Stares in socialist*

The team arrives in Salamanca thanks to Lázaro de Tormes. THE Lázaro de Tormes. What? You don’t know a ton about Spanish literature? He was the anonymous author of a famous Spanish novela “Lazarillo de Tormes”  that launched the picaresque novel. A genre best described as a character low on the ladder of socio-economic and cultural respectability (an outsider who sees the hypocrisy) who must face a corrupt society via episodic experiences and somehow comes out despite many scrapes. In the world of English literature, books like Moll Flanders, Pickwick Papers, and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn are best associated with that genre.

As for the book itself, it was wildly provocative and modern. It spoke realistically about the lives of the poor and the constant hurdles that faced them. It was a book about an interracial family. And it was a book about a small child who approached the world like a child —all while being incredibly anticlerical and making some pretty shrewd criticisms of the Church and its rules for itself and rules for others. (And yes, this book is still significant today in Spanish literature.) The other main point is that one shouldn’t follow the rules on high if those at the top aren’t following them either. One shouldn’t be too complacent about bad behaviour.

He (unlike the team) must wait to enter the city as there were rules against beggars being about. (Reminds one of modern laws and policies that punish the homeless for existing.) When they enter the city and ask people if they have seen the man who looks like Alberto Díaz Bueno (sketch done by your friend and ours, Velazquez.) everyone acts terrified and offers their favourite “Nope” gif and runs off. Obviously they are close. They talk to a local monk who says, “This man is EVIL. And he is The Royal Reeve.”

A reeve is essentially the worst kind of management in the world. “I am just following orders from head office.” He is in charge of a local area to handle land management, legal issues, and other local matters (along with collecting taxes). But there wasn’t a lot of oversight, so you could end up with a real psychopath on your hands. There is something really significant about his position and the time and place, which comes to light when Lazaro performs his little puppet show that is critical of King Carlos I and finds himself arrested and the audience is none too pleased and begin crying out “Community” which was the mantra of the Comuneros.

Now we get to have a quick history lesson!!! They were part of a revolt against Carlos I, who many considered a foreigner. Carlos was the son of Juana La Loca (Joanna the Mad) and he had been raised abroad by an aunt in Flanders. (His father Philip the Handsome had controlled low countries, and a bunch of other places.) Upon the death of his grandfather (Ferdinand) and his mother suffering from mental illness (her family, and husband treated her so poorly and essentially drove her mad.) he was the guy who got the job. He rolled up not speaking a lick of Castilian Spanish, with a bunch of foreign pals that he put into important positions. (Imagine if you will, someone putting in a completely unqualified person into a high ranking government job and they aren’t very good at their job. But they get this job because of their relationship with the leader. I know —very difficult to imagine that.)  

This did not appeal to a number of people. It didn’t appeal to the Castilian elite who had been waiting for those powerful positions and didn’t want to pay taxes to these folks they considered shady foreigners. Then you had the peasants and students who objected to the continued economic instability. (Things had been really bad for awhile because of the Spanish inquisition which kicked out A LOT of Jewish and Muslim folk —which wrecked the economy and lost the country a lot of taxable income. In addition to all of the money spent on this expanding empire.) and being made to pay more taxes to a king who wanted to live big and funnel a lot of that cash out of the country to Flanders, while they suffered and had few rights. Many wanted Joanna to be the monarch in charge. Society costs money, and when you have a few at the top taking everything and giving very little in return, people get a bit fed up after a while.*quietly hums the Internationale*

Anyhow, you have this Royal Reeve who is from another time really being your run of the mill oligarch with tough guys to beat and murder folks while he is making a killing for his bank account.

Meanwhile back at the ranch, Irene and Salvador are discussing Walcott. He works for a company that has its own means of getting people through time. At first it was for tourism and now it is for interfering in matters of state and any other appealing money-making venture. Private companies with little to no regulation often end up getting involved in matters like this. Tiny delicious side-note: The company is called Darrow and it is in reference to a sci-fi fantasy novel called, “The Anubis Gates”. The creator of this television series had said the book influenced them a lot.

Now they must figure out motives, and how to stop them messing with their intelligence. And for Irene she also wrestles with the morality of the Ministry and how they treat people. Like any complex job that involves making morally complicated decisions, it can take its toll. One has to compartmentalize to get through the day. But for how long?

The moral arguments plague the trio as well. Do they save the comedian? Or do they let him perish as he isn’t part of the task at hand. Alonso is a nihilist of the battlefield, and Julián remains the medic who follows the credo, “First do no harm.” But it is Amelia, ever the academic, who points out their duty is to keep time the same so Lazero must be saved, and they can bring in the baddie too.

The baddie is in his counting house, counting out his money when Lola shows up with a gun and a back story about her ties to him. She is NOT pleased. (girl, why aren’t you shooting him instead of chatting about old memories? Don’t you watch Bond films? Chatting never leads to anything good.) But he pulls a fast one and she is in prison. With the comedian.

Then all of the fun goes down. The trio get intelligence that prisoners are being sent to the West Indies, so they attempt to free them only to find Lola, not Lázaro. She is to be taken in but the door disappears and Ernesto, who was to meet them, is missing. Ever have those days at work where everything seems to catch on fire? While Salvador is attempting to manage the crisis, a liaison from the government is saying that Walcott must be released at the demand of the US government. All these baddies doing as they please… revolution sounds about as tasty as a slice or two of torta di santiago.

But everyone handles it to the best of their ability and makes a few sacrifices for the greater cause. Plus the show-down with the original baddie is quite pleasing. Nothing like a good tranq gun, and some biblical retribution to make one feel like things are right with the world.

 

Though as one knows with the release of Walcott —it isn’t always fair. But now and then we can break the rules and make it fair. And Salvador promises to do so with Leiva.

Amelia’s fairness pays off and Lázaro writes that book that has touched so much of western literature. Sometimes we plant small seeds of fairness and inspiration that bloom in strange places.