banshee-liam

I discovered this show by chance on a trip to Ireland and was exhilarated by its comic freshness and unexpected poignancy. The three lead actresses and one lead actor had terrific chemistry, and the writing could make you belly laugh and sob almost simultaneously. It is a mystery to me that "After Henry" has not made its way to these shores, where I'm confident it would join the top ranks of most beloved Britcoms. Are the programmers at PBS all dead in their offices at this point? They would do well to retire their endless reruns of jukebox "specials" and seek out savvy, unfamiliar programs like "After Henry." (If I hear "Amazing Grace" warbled just one more time, there will be havoc in Mudville.)

As the previous posters have attested, this was one of the most frightening things I ever saw--on TV or in a movie theater. The acting was superb, but it was the story, the foggy night forest that the desperate boy had to run through--round trip!--and especially the taut direction that so successfully created an atmosphere of crushing dread. The fear and contempt that The Widow showed for the hysterical young man before slamming the heavy wooden door behind him made my mouth go dry.

Without giving away what actually happens at the climax, I'll just say that, once it took place, my entire family began shrieking and running from the room in all directions.

Poe must have wept with jealousy. I only wish someone would release this on DVD. (N.B.: The only episode of TV horror equal to "Sins of the Fathers," in my opinion, is "An Unlocked Window," starring Dana Wynter, from "Alfred Hitchcock Presents," which aired in 1965. Have Valium on hand...lots of it.)

I have seen "Hedda Gabler" many times onstage and on film. As fine as several of the other actresses have been, no one has come close in my opinion to conveying the desperation that Hedda endures. Without a trace of mannerism or facile Victorian posing, Fiona Shaw shows us a woman not only of fury and ennui, but of thwarted tenderness and self-lacerating remorse. Her wincing regret over her own snide comments re someone's hat is painful to witness, and the way she sometimes stands with her arms folded behind her back, as if barely restraining herself from randomly striking someone, anyone, is a gesture that says as much about her as any of her dialogue. She and her brilliant director, Deborah Warner, rescue Hedda from the "harpy" archetype that less diligent hands have unjustly fashioned for her over the decades. (Though controversial to Ibsen purists at the time, the silent prologue Ms. Warner created for this production was as effective as any great overture ever created for the ear.) The supporting cast, which includes Stephen Rea, Donal McCann, Brid Brennan, and Nicholas Woodeson, is also first rate.