Recent
Good, Bad, and Ugly Period Pieces
by
Kristin Battestella
Some
of these contemporary Victorian movies and period series are
impressive with literary oomph and costumed flair. However others are
unfortunately disappointing, polarizing, or unwatchable humbug.
Black Field
– Lanterns, rifles, and two pioneer sisters doing what they have to
do make for an upsetting opening to this 2010 eighty minute Canadian
parable from writer and director Danishka Esterhazy. Bleak music,
isolated vistas, and empty savannahs befitting the title set off the
bare home, primitive details, and Grace said over such a paltry meal.
This is a desperate, bitter existence with little dialogue beyond sad
lullabies as these two girls fend for themselves. The accents,
immigrants, and distant French towns mix – but the nearest farm is
eighteen miles away and a handsome stranger wants to earn his keep at
our isolated, all female station. Backstories are shared at the
table, where this shirtless charmer admits he needs the Lord's mercy
and forgiveness often and there's a certain attractive scandal at
holding hands for prayer. The audience creates more saucy as several
scenes imply each girl orchestrates a solo encounter with their would
be protector – the camera doesn't reveal if something happened,
however the household balance tips with jealousy and suspicion. Are
these girls in over their heads with their farm and in need of a man
to help? One has been forced to mother, but the younger is infatuated
and ready to rebel despite wearing almost medieval clothes perhaps
fashioned from her lone book of juvenile fairy tales. There are no
“decent” jobs for women in town, and sans horse, this man is
their only ticket to freedom. When one sister inevitably leaves, is
it willingly or an abduction? The journey on foot is bleak with
storms and an all natural palette mirroring their colorless lives,
and the conflict increases without the unnecessary gory dream flashes
and brief viewpoint breaks. Unable to help distant neighbors have too
much work and too many mouths to feed, and nearby Mounties are in
pursuit of a murderer as prejudice, injuries, and wilderness dangers
build fear. The chess games moves to an even smaller, meager cabin
with nothing but a sheet between rooms as the tables turn. Which
sister do we believe as the division makes once good girls do bad
things? Although some of the acting is slightly modern, the rivalry
is similar to Far North and
overall this first feature is well
done. Did each girl get what she wanted and will they move on from
this – or will the rift change them forever? While certain elements
may be obvious, all the audience suspects is revealed in good time
with well paced drama and a few unexpected twists.
To Walk Invisible: The Bronte Sisters
– This Masterpiece
television
movie shines the light on sisters
Charlotte, Emily, and Anne as they escape into fiction away from the
tolling bells, muddy streets, and embarrassing affairs ruining the
family reputation. The ladies must keep up the mid-nineteenth century
appearances with capes, bonnets, and frumpy frocks alongside the
crestfallen parsonage, Yorkshire cold, and drafty period poor of the
on location prairies and authentic settings. In an era when they are
trapped by their womanhood and dependent on their hopeless male kin's
hypocrisy, these sisters prefer dogs to people – tiptoeing over
fears of publishing their poems and hidden creative passions burning
fast and bright. Fiery readings of their explosive text contrast
their plain, crappy circumstances, but the plot erroneously deviates
in favor of the sniveling and tormented at being mediocre brother
Branwell, meandering from the more interesting sisters destined for
glory. The ladies want to publish and express themselves freely
rather than bow their heads, not make eye contact, and sell
themselves as mere governesses. However they argue over whether their
writings are a private pursuit or something extraordinary worthy of
publication – for men write and what they pen is judged, but a
woman writing is herself judged. The sisters toil under pen names
with panoramic seasonal transitions as they wait for acceptance, but
childhood fantasy scenes and drunken dreams are unnecessary. On the
go recountings of stories within stories walking faster with speed
talking to match also become nonsensical, trying to create tension on
top of the stilted brotherly angst when there is enough human
interest in the literary struggle. The awkwardness of snatching a
letter addressed to Currer Bell is fine drama – especially when it
is an acceptance for two of the girls' works, but not the third and
unscrupulous publication deals follow. At times the sisters can be
cliché, with bossy Charlotte, fiery Emily, and a just sort of there
Anne; but the personal insights deepen with rejection letters, buying
more paper, old fashioned manuscript packages, first writings of
their famous novels, and sitting by the fire for silent sustained
writing time. Yes please! A proud father learning of his daughters'
achievements make for delightful moments, and this is downright
excellent when the ladies must stand up for their publication rights
by revealing their identities – after being judged for their
accents, stature, and gender. Of course the finale is bittersweet,
but this is a charming companion piece to reading the Brontes or for
inspiring budding young writers.
An
Unfortunate Skip
The Invisible Woman
– Ralph Fiennes (Coriolanus)
directs
and stars in this 2013 Charles Dickens biopic from Bafta winning
writer Abi Morgan (Shame)
focusing on the forty-five year old married author's affair with
Felicity Jones' (Rogue One)
eighteen year old actress Nelly Ternan. English coasts, Victorian
silhouettes, lanterns, and carriages create a grand atmosphere with
period decorum for the fine acting, but one needs to be familiar with
the people or the Claire Tomalin source book to understand this slow
two hours with an unnecessary flashback frame and more relationship
awkwardness. When our lovers first meet, she is smiling at his son
and he is socializing with her mother amid busy theater preparations
and silly rehearsals restarts signaled with overly serious
crescendos. The marital rifts, groupies catching his eye, well
delivered dialogue, sense of Victorian protocol, and certain British
properness can't completely build thanks to all the back and forth
interruptions. While the filming nicely reflects the mood as she
looks up to Dickens, he stares at her neck, and they turn away at
their conflicted feelings; the unfortunately accurate twenty year age
difference between the actors is too weird with unromantic fireside
close ups and girly giggles too young to be sensuous. It is neat to
see some early mass hysteria over a feisty, charismatic author
commanding the crowds, even though this biopic may be trying too much
with talk of debtor's prison, voiceover quotes on poverty and
charity, and Dickens the social reformer intermixed with his side
piece counting the donations. If he doesn't love his uncreative wife,
what does he see in a talentless girl playing actress? There's no
reason to love the troubled melodrama when the objective camera shows
the creepy – she's hunched at the door as he is at her shoulder
whispering to be let inside for a silent first touch. The eerily done
up Fiennes is a fire and brimstone minister over his tempting flock,
but the conflict between literary master and dirty old man is too
disjointed with some chaste patty cake in the final fifteen minutes
before an abrupt ending and a Victorian sense of shame confusing
modern audiences. Tom Hollander (The Night Manager)
as fellow libertine Wilkie Collins and concerned mother Kristin Scott
Thomas (An English
Patient reunion,
hello!)
are also totally underused, and more time may have been better spent
on the terribly mistreated wife Joanna Scanlan (Getting
On) –
who seems like the real hidden lady. It's tough to look at this
difficult subject matter objectively, and this unfocused, close to
vest structure where not much happens doesn't help. Is this the
tormented Dickens, Nelly's present reflecting on him, his wife's
pain? Though interesting for biographers and sociology viewers or
Fiennes fans and period propriety, this is simply frustratingly plain
to watch.
Didn't
Finish 'em!
Downton Abbey: Seasons 4 and 5
– Year Three of this Masterpiece
series jumped the shark, and I quit watching then. The 2013 Fourth
Season, however, is not a good place to join the show, as names and
references from prior seasons are dropped or forgotten as needed,
interesting personal developments below are pushed aside for the same
above toil, and regardless of the Interwar happenings and historical
opportunities, everything always come back to who Michelle Dockery's
Mary will marry. Numerous maids, nannies, footmen, relatives,
suitors, and royals come and go – wasting time before a typical and
totally unnecessary rape as plot device trapping The Bateses (Joanne
Froggatt and Brendan Coyle) with murder again.
Each
hour also has Allen Leech's Branson asking if he is truly upstairs or
down, treading tires as said to be a writer who's never seen actually
writing anything Edith (Laura Carmichael) literally has her romance
disappear while she's kidnapping her baby from not one, but two
adoptions. Past dalliances and present companionships for Granny
Violet Maggie Smith, Penelope Wilton's Isobel, and Doctor David Robb
are more interesting. All the supposedly progressive plots with Lily
James' superfluous Rose meant to introduce the changing times, and it
is the elder cast's reflections that better capture the aristocratic
upheavals. More loud mouth recurring characters take up screen time
in Series Five, which frustratingly repeats itself despite it being
1924. Are people who call this the Greatest British Drama Ever
watching the same show I am? I bailed with a few episodes left as
reading the summaries to see how Season Six ends was easier than the
poorly paced and uneven storylines onscreen. Most
scenes only last a minute or two, and intercut whimsical moments
disrupt serious conversations – plots on homosexuality are cut
short in favor of suspected gardeners stealing letter openers and
secret heists over absconded royal love letters. The location,
costuming, and period looks are the best part of the show, and such
frocks, jewelry, tiaras, and dressing for dinner decorum wrapped in
posh accents is what appeals to international audiences most. This
era has an embarrassment of riches – I still believe they should
have never left World War I – but everything here is really just
like every other soap opera.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
War and Peace
– 1805 St. Petersburg locales, Moscow estates, and lavish
aristocratic balls set the scene for this 2016 adaptation anchored by
the likes of Gillian Anderson (The
X-Files),
Stephen Rea (The
Crying Game),
Rebecca Front (Up
the Women),
and many, many
more. There are numerous introductions, comings and goings from place
to place, and explanations of who is who and how they are all related
while arguing at the count's deathbed over his will. Similar names
and a dash of foreign words will be confusing – viewers need to
know the book and the history amid the marrying cousins, matchmaking,
creepy siblings, and two faced nobility. The Regency costumes may not
always be accurate, the younger ladies look like little girls playing
dress up, the military uniforms are too big on the modern boys, and
their tricorns look downright silly. Though the tiaras, furs, and
feather fascinators are fun, they don't distract audiences from all
the British accents overtaking this decidedly Russian epic. Weren't
there any continental actors available? Despite the small television
scale, ominous music, fog, canons, horses, and gunfire lift the
battle action amid a fine religious undercurrent with church
blessings and everyone crossing themselves. Unfortunately, it's tough
to care about all these lookalike solider boys when they are so gung
ho about the revolution yet can't see how they are being played. They
run their mouths off and drum up their cowardly wounds – Sharpe
was much more soldier-esque in comparison, and Brian Cox seems like
he's in a different battle theater than the overly millennial
princes, tsars, and REMFs looking for glory. The heady, flashy
dreams, drunken saucy, shadowed nudity, whispered seduction, and male
butts are unnecessary Tudors
knockoffs
as the bitchy little girls at home plot for love or money, and the
back and forth editing between war action and at home intrigue
creates uneven weight – maybe a more linear plot per episode would
have helped balance the younger, weaker cast. I feel like I should
like this more, but the atmosphere doesn't have that extra period
timelessness. I got half way through, but there's no attachment to
the numerous characters bottlenecking for the spotlight between all
the try hard narrations. One might find it easier to just
tackle the Tolstoy direct instead.
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