Ho-Hum Period Pieces
by
Kristin Battestella
This
trio of early, middle, and late 19th century literary sourced serials
are tedious split decisions at best and sleep inducing examples of
the genre at worse. Ho-hum, ho-hum.
Death Comes to Pemberley –
I admit I am not a Jane Austen fan, but I was willing to give this
2013 three episode murder mystery based on the P.D. James sequel to
Pride and Prejudice
a go. While slow to start with twenty minutes that could have been
dropped, the ethereal forest, idyllic greens, bustling manor, and
Regency carriages turn to screams, ghost talk, gunshots, and
hysterical guests crying murder on the night before a ball. Thunder,
foggy roads, and torches add to local legends, spooky flashbacks, and
a mysterious, hissing woman in red. Candlelight schemes provide
atmosphere, however some scenes are too dark, contributing to the
struggling conversations. Dry recountings of the past and numerous
unnecessary people discussing which families don't approve of each
other waste far too much time when there are wounded men, dead
friends, and killer suspicions afoot. On with the murder mystery!
Fluttering ladies with smelling salts and trying to be humorous wives
just become obnoxious, further stalling the sputtering, so-called
ominous ambience. Bludgeons to the head and pieces to the puzzle get
lost in the dowdy protocol, and it's increasingly apparent that this
going nowhere mystery is really just a drama about how a local murder
and somebody else's pregnancy scandal causes a rift between The
Darcys. Granted, I wonder if my lack of Austen love is clouding my
viewing judgments, but is this supposedly sordid trial really saying
this murder was set in motion by somebody not getting invited to the
ball? Though the familiar cast is in proper period piece form as any
quality British thespian would be, the devoid script leaves them
going through the motions as clichéd saintly women or jerky husbands
– and my word, why is everybody's hair such a mess? Courtship
choices repeating Pride and
Prejudice drag
on at the expense of current actions,
and the tale might have been better on its own if it weren't a thin
Jane Austen wannabe gone eerie over relying on famed connections. Not
only did this one all but put me to sleep, but it never delivers on
the promised what happens next or its mystery thriller tag line.
Doctor Thorne – Billed as a
2016 Amazon Original, Downton
Abbey creator
Julian Fellowes presents
these four episodes based upon the novel by Anthony Trollope starring
Tom Hollander (The Night
Manager) as
the calling it like it is doctor caring for his shunned niece and
Ian McShane (Deadwood)
as the drunkard lording over everyone's debts and loans. The series
opens with a bleak 1836 fatality before the colorful greenery of
1850s Britain complete with snotty picnics debating for love or money
marital choices. Pretty costumes, grand manors, and garden estates
add atmosphere alongside cobblestones and period medical instruments
while overhead shots build austere scale for the comings and goings
up grand staircases. By contrast, Thorne's home is darker with low
ceilings and fireside sit down conversations – cinematography
mirroring the high and low attitude and privileged protocols blocking
Mary Thorne and her shady
parentage from marrying above her rank.
Stuck up Rebecca Front (The
Thick of It) arranges a
wealthy American union for her son instead, but even those betrothed
to the uppity appreciate love as more important than wealth. Frumpy
but narcissistic parents complain about repugnant duties in marrying
money, women's meddling rules the roost because they can't stop men
from squandering their inheritance, and sacrificing loved ones to
bitterness just to keep up a lavish legacy is the norm. Everyone
above takes from below, those below still snob it to those beneath
them, and such greedy people aren't very likable! Beyond the elder
cast's confrontations, the ensemble is basic – four, forty plus
minute parts is too little time to stray into village folk or town
square speeches yet overlong when a two hour romance movie would do.
Too many who is who, superfluous sisters, portly suitors, and other
relations crowd the in media
res plot – viewers are
told of long lost love but we don't see it. Wills, injuries, and
revelations move fast, but the apparent passage of time makes the
disapproved lovers spend more time apart while others much ado about
nothing over them. This slightly pompous, gloves on approach is
ironically too Victorian in its closed off comeuppances, leaving the
not so unexpected twists and potential drama undelivered for any
audience who has already read or seen better. Eight episodes with the
no nonsense Thorne anchoring more tales from
the Barsetshire
Chronicles books series
would have been more interesting, and Fellowes also appears before and
after each episode, taking precious minutes away from the story for a
windblown, talking down to for American viewers that almost proves
the case for Trollope being Dickens lite rather than showing his
contemporaneous best. This fussy women trying to marry a bachelor to
the highest bidder reverse on the usual lady's coming out party
should appeal to Downton
audiences as well as fans of Hollander and Trollope and budding
period piece teens may find this wet behind the ears lark an easy way
to spend an afternoon.
The Paradise – Whimsical
Victoriana credits set a gilded mood for this 2012-13
British/Masterpiece co-production inspired by Emile Zola. The titular
1875 department store anchors sixteen hour long episodes across two
seasons with a city versus country, small shops versus big business
rivalry, and uppity aristocrats can't get used to this all inclusive,
off the rack shopping model. Despite decorum, sales formalities, and
billing troubles, sassy northern accents and green manor houses add a
pleasant, lighthearted glow. And The Paradise has room and board for
its employees, too! Retail backstabbing and suave, self-made
salesmanship behind the scenes are more interesting than uneven
secrets, upper class meddling, and contrived spoiled rich girl, stage
five clinger marriage proposals. Though the ownership ambition is
earnest, one day shopping sales speeches are too preachy, and shop
girl crushes on their widower boss are too awkward. Why are they all
so smitten by his fatherly entrepreneur wisdom and unromantic raspy
voice? While customer contests, a baby found in the store, ill
employees, and surprise parties are somewhat trite, episodic themes
peppered with conflicts, thefts, using and abusing, or humble
integrity do well alongside talk of Paris fashions and Paradise puns
or slogans. Women choosing to work rather than marry – gasp!
Unfortunately, the local shopkeepers versus The Paradise plots are
downplayed in favor of weaker romantic fluff, leaving pieces of
episodes good and other scenes too tame while the focus meanders
between a wholesome family series or shoehorned melodrama. New
players in Series Two are not as likable, the most interesting
characters are not
the series leads, and episodic focus on other characters or
mysterious deaths at the store go nowhere. Late traitors, closing
threats, and conspiracies are compromised by the underwhelming sappy
and tiresome, not so stolen glances, and nonsensical turns can't be
disguised by the odd costumes and camera trickery hiding a pregnant
actress. Rather than embracing the potential for promotion rivalries,
French flair, and women unaccepted as business equals, nothing major
happens and the same old love flutter remains, well, boring. This was
very tough to continue, as it turns out there just isn't enough
intrigue at a Victorian department store. Who knew?
No comments:
Post a Comment