For the Love of Merlin

I love Merlin. There, I've said it. I said it yesterday while standing in Louis of Hampstead and was looked at as though in the grip of a raving insanity. Why? People love Doctor Who, Robin Hood is accepted - Merlin outguns them.

A fusion of Disneyland, Harry Potter and High School Musical, with a dash of Buffy and the faintest seasoning of, you know, Arthurian legend, it is frankly a dizzying and intoxicating mess of hysteria, hilarity and a good, old-fashioned romance. It is, essentially, everything Robin Hood tried and failed to be. The effects are awful (though survivable if one has lived through Primeval), the scripts suspect ("Arthur is, like, so annoying", along with the mention of "Destiny" at least ninety-five times an episode) and the acting uneven (Giles-from-Buffy up against Blondey McArthur is a non-challenge), but it is fun.

Of course, it means checking your basic knowledge of the legends at the door. Merlin, Arthur and Guinivere (sorry, Gwen) are all the same age, and Gwen is more interested in Merlin than Arthur anyway, Lancelot is probably older than Arthur, and Artimedes, I regret to say, is nowhere to be seen. There is also depressingly little in the way of turning Arthur into squirrels or fish, and no singing at all. Even when the Lady of the Lake turned up, it was on dry land and no lakes were mentioned.

Naturally, none of this really matters. Morgana is gorgeous, Gwen is sweet, Arthur looks boy band fabulous and Merlin is an adorable geek. After an initial wringing of hands and shrieking "Child, child, was it for this I ploughed through Morte d'Arthur?" you begin to appreciate the sheer wonder of it. We have it all, everything beloved of The CW: rebellious sons, love between men, love between women and men, closeted secrets (the magic closet rather than the gay closet, but judging by the charged looks between Merlin and Arthur it could go either way), life lessons, jousting.

And lots of hugging and learning.

It's brilliant!