Da Vinci & The Code He Lived By

(And The Package It Came In)

The History Channel

December 4, 9 p.m. / 8 p.m. Central

by Joey Rubin

It hasn't been a good week for journalism. The Pentagon is under fire for paying to place propaganda in Iraqi newspapers and I received an advanced copy of a TV show packaged so well, I'm not sure whether I should review the package or the product inside. Obviously, both issues pose serious questions for journalism, but I'll dwell on the second because I have a feeling it wont get picked up by many major media outlets.

Recently, Flak's TV forces were contacted by a generous PR team and given the chance to review some TV shows before they aired on television. In other words, Flak was given the opportunity to influence the viewing patterns of the American public instead of just reflecting (astutely) on what aired after the masses had their fun. It's a responsibility Flak was honored to take on. Eager, even.

The only caveat was that with the screeners came external concerns: people (such as press agents, television stations, poor, starving actors) depended upon Flak to publish timely, well-written content that might help generate interest in television programs someone paid to promote. Which is fine. Except this brings me to the impressive — and consequently, dubious — package da Da Vinci.

Imagine, if you will, that a black box arrives in the mail. It's much too large to hold just a DVD of a forthcoming television program. You bring it upstairs into your apartment and empty its contents onto a table. Inside, you find a reddish leather case that's tied shut with a pencil sharpener and two leather strings. It smells like cow. It looks expensive.

You open it to find a letter starting "Dear Journalist," a press release prepping you for the experience of reviewing the new History Channel documentary about "one of the most important figures of the Renaissance:" Leonardo Da Vinci. The letter is on cardboard stock, and is in full color. The document itself is fancier than the art on your walls. You throw it to the side.

Beneath the heavy letter are 12 color pencils, each in an individual slot imbedded in the leather case. Opposite the rainbow of color is a wire-bound, cardboard-covered note pad (also imbedded in the leather case) and, on the other side, underneath this preposterous bounty, a colorfully designed folder holding the — at this point — highly anticipated DVD.

A pencil-sharpener? A color pencil set? A nifty leather case? A personally addressed letter? This journalist has never felt so cool. Or, alternately, so distracted.

Because of the thematic nature of the packaging, I'm confident that it is not a bribe. Nor is it payment. The Pentagon is probably not behind this. There is no reason a reviewer equipped with a color pencil set will look more favorably upon the show contained inside said color pencil set. (Right?) According to Flak's Code of Ethics, "Flakmag will accept small free things like promo copies of books or albums." Or thematically linked art supplies; I think I'm in the clear.

Unfortunately, after the thrill and the tumult of the mysterious black box and its creative contents, the actual show, "Da Vinci & The Code He Lived By," is not exactly stirring. Sure, it's interesting enough. It tells a compelling story about a consequential artist and thinker that, if you've never studied the Renaissance, or been to a museum of early modern art, you might learn a lot from. Unlike much on the History Channel, its reanactments are not offensive or overly cheesy — the Italians might even be played by actors of Italian origin. And when it fails, it does so in the way most History Channel documentaries fail: with an arbitrary theme presented with much too heavy of a hand.

Da Vinci, it seems, didn't actually live by a "code," per se. He had values, sure, and (to quote the show) a "commitment to achieve the impossible...to exceed himself and others." The constant references to his "code" are forced, and the continued repetitions of the phrase "the code he lived by" grates more with each mention. But this kind of clumsiness can be expected from the education-lite peddled by the History Channel. And unfortunately, the gimmick itself is merely for the sake of marketing. Just like — sigh — the color pencils. (The code, it seems, is a reference to some hit book you may have heard about. And to a movie coming out soon.)

And I guess that's the problem with it all. Because really, I don't want to let anyone down, and I'm very happy with my gift. I just wish it had come with a show that I was equally happy about.