He Knew He Was Right

Once again I find myself sitting in on a Sunday night and what happens, my mum puts on BBC 1 at 9 and i think: "not another period drama...". But actually, this one wasn't so bad...

Not because it had a decent plot or any particularly good character development but because Laura Fraser was in it. I couldn't place her at first but i soon realised it was none other than Kate the blacksmith from A Knights Tale. Not only is she considerably more beautiful than anyone else in the film (especially the french sisters...), but she can act a hell of a lot better than most of them as well. I appreciate that most actors find it difficult to act in the pretentious voices, but why do it then? Is there really a shortage of people who can speak pretentiously? Who knows, point being, Laura stood out around the rest of them.

That piece of sycophancy aside, I think the problem with this period drama, like so many others, is its willingness to include so much plot at the expense of character development. Perhaps if there was only one girl trying to marry each man instead of half a dozen, we might understand better why she wanted to marry him. Or maybe I'm missing the point. It just seems to me that the girls always one day decide they love someone they've never spent any significant amount of time with, and thats it.

Anyway, as I say, its better than most, so if you like this sort of thing, You'll love this one.

Chopped up Trollope is worse than no Trollope at all in my view. There is barely enough exposition for a complex set of characters but there are plenty of climaxes and assorted running gags which are hard to get unless you've read the book. It's basically is a series of punch-lines with no lead-ins.

This isn't even directed on decent soap opera level, which might have satisfied the time constraints. Why oh why must so many of the characters mug as they address the camera. With the exception of Anna Massey, the acting is dreadful, particularly the leading men, who look like they long to be in a rock opera or at least an early Disney Opus. A spoonful of medicine isn't enough for this travesty, I'm afraid.

As usual for Masterpiece Theater, the settings are lovely & the music is very loud.

This latest period drama, written by Andrew Davies, takes a minor and rather unusual Trollope novel and applies the full Davies/BBC costume drama treatment. The sets are sumptuous, whether in a London still with fields and footpaths, the cathedral city of Wells or Italy. The acting is excellent, with outstanding performances by some of the older generation of British actors - notably Anna Massey, Geoffrey Palmer, Bill Nighy and Geraldine James.

But the novel itself is not the usual Trollope of politicians and clergymen (although both are featured). It is rather a psychological study of a man consumed by jealousy, and its effects on all around him. The problem in the 21st century is that the bases for the jealousy, the responses and the social mores which shape them, are so deeply rooted in Victorian England's peculiar class structure that they are hard to comprehend, and even harder to sympathise with. So that this viewer is irritated rather than involved, wanting to ask "what is all the fuss about?" But the director, writer and cast keep the action moving briskly through the four hours of the mini-series, and it is only in the final hour, when melodrama turns farcical, that the irritation overcomes the involvement.

This is about the danger of malicious gossip. We have the naive young wife, played by Laura Fraser (Lydia in "Breaking Bad") who has just moved to London with her husband. A friend of her father, played by the ever mischievous Bill Nighy, comes to visit–daily. Her husband overhears gossip about the relationship and sinks into paranoid despair, made worse by a cynical private detective played by Ron Cook (Mr Crabb in "Mr Selfridge"). One of the side stories is about the hapless vicar "in want of a wife" played by David Tennant, whose facial expressions alone are worth the price of admission, so to speak. This mini-series was adapted by Welsh screenwriter Andrew Davies from the Anthony Trollope novel. I haven't read the book so don't know how closely Mr Davies kept to it. I enjoyed the mini-series.

The BBC have done it yet again; they have taken us back in time in a marvellously convincing manner. It is difficult to find fault with any aspect of this production; settings, locations, costumes and casting are all near perfect and the acting is admirable throughout. From the beginning to the end my attention never flagged for a moment; it is so jam-packed with human interest that I couldn't have enough of it. This is not a melodrama as some have said; taking into account the mores of the time it is totally realistic, with nothing over-played. Yes, it was annoying that the central character should allow his happy marriage to be destroyed by unfounded jealousy and a bit difficult to accept, until you you remember that that wasn't his only source of complaint; he was also annoyed that his spirited wife refused to submit to his unreasonable demands, something which as a Victorian husband he felt he had a right to expect. And she was not entirely blameless; she didn't have to behave in such a flirtatiouus way as to excite her husand's jealousy or to appear to enjoy so much the attentions of her philandering God-father. However, the anger and strife of the two central characters was offset by two other very happy relationships. With so many characters so well realised, well acted and convincing, I was left wanting more - much more.