Disappointing
19th Century Gothic Dramas
by
Kristin Battestella
These
two throwback productions have a lot to offer in period piece morose.
Unfortunately, the crowded storytelling makes for disappointing,
mixed bag viewing that deserved more.
The
Black Velvet Gown –
Janet McTeer (Albert Nobbs)
leads this 1991 award winning ITV adaption of the Catherine Cookson
novel complete with 1830s impoverished patchwork and dirty coal
downtrodden mood. The dated, flat print actually helps the humble,
hardworking candles and quills as our widow Mariah and her children
come to work at a dilapidated manor for four shillings plus room and
board. Bitter spinster sisters give the disapproving once over and
gossip about what trouble she is because Mariah can read and write,
but chores and montages with upbeat music and ye olde town square
bustle imply circumstances are otherwise happy. The master sets up a
school in his library for the children and offers our housekeeper his
mother's titular gown. However, suggested love triangles with the
woodsman move quickly, nobody seems to brood or like each other that
much yet there's talk of marriage and Mariah disrobes to wait for the
master – who says she doesn't look that much older than her little
daughter. Though struggling financially, he promises the children
puppies and ponies, crossing fatherly boundaries and creepily
manhandling them before the enraged twelve year old boy slices up the
master with a sickle. The master admits he had to give up teaching
because of his “weakness” but his threat to have the boy jailed
for attacking him carries more weight then his implied abuse? The
family is blackmailed into staying, forcing Mariah to rip up that
gorgeous dress before the time jumps to eight years later. Our
daughter is now quite the scholar, feeling sorry for the deathbed
master that taught her and screwed over her family. This moves fast,
almost too fast – as if the important elements have been glossed
over and we're supposed to sympathize with the master for making the
daughter his heiress. The male lawyers think Mariah should be
grateful for inheriting this strapped property, speculating that she
slept with her master to get it. Unfortunately, any potential behind
closed doors meaty is at best tame and largely absent. A letter
seemingly confirming the master abused the son is ignored by the
daughter he educated, and her being smart is made the worse crime.
Servants must know their place and never talk back as we move from
mother to daughter in the second half. Young Biddy remains determined
at the new downstairs, defiant despite being whipped while her
brother is said to be smart enough to keep quite. The abusive
undercurrent is confusing, for sex was seemingly traded to the
previous master yet it's this tough laundress work that must be
endured and overcome. What filth she's spreading by quoting poetry in
public and learning letters in the servant quarters! Although the
nothing new statements are weak, the high up idiots not wanting
anyone else to gain knowledge reeks of today. Once elevated to
chambermaid, our daughter learns how to behave and marries up before
using her inheritance to open an equal opportunity school. The morose
atmosphere, dramatic performances, and attention to class detail are
here, however the last half hour rushes with no focus on how our
smart girls cause trouble and all the men want them nonetheless. The
twofold storytelling feels pointless with no time to tell either
properly – leaving viewers to read the book to get the whole tale.
I mean, the dress never even had to do with anything? Great frock,
though. Would wear!
The
Doctor and the Devils
– The Burke and Hare names are changed for this long gestating 1985
Freddie Francis (Dracula Has Risen from the Grave)
directed and Mel Brooks (Dracula: Dead and Loving It)
produced horror yarn with a surprisingly elite cast. Well dressed
doctor Timothy Dalton's (Penny Dreadful)
sophisticated justification of what must be done in the name of
anatomy and male only lecture hall contrast the gory body on the exam
table – the grim product of grave diggers Stephen Rea (The End of the Affair)
and Jonathan Pryce (Tomorrow Never Dies)
who circumvent medical law for three guineas a body to impress
working girl Twiggy (Brand New World). Dirty
streets, ruined clothes, and congested pubs don't mix with the top
hats and brightly lit upscale, reiterating the classism between
working girls and well to do praying doctor's sister Sian Phillips
(I, Claudius).
The dialogue is intriguing and the performances well done. However
this is slow to start with to and from coming and going carriages and
romps in the back alleys. Drawn out scenes and idle busy moments
delay the graveside thefts, creepy cadaver cuttings, bleeding
arteries, and blood splatter marring the fine shirts and ties. At
only ninety-two minutes, this should know whether it's focus is the
murderous men or the medial horror. Pretty medical assistant Julian
Sands (Gothic)
gets his hands dirty in buying the bodies, but seeing his girl in the
shady brothel, well that's too much! Humor and hooker jokes are
apparently meant to have us laugh at the downtrodden who have
resorted to killing, but the realistic gore and muffled smotherings
in the dark are a better warped. After all, our desperate snatchers
are putting bedridden victims out of their misery. The dirty pain,
black teeth, and pox sallow waste of the living is made new, fresh,
and useful as a dead body. New messy science has no time for red tape
impeding a surgeon who makes scary sense when he objects to his
talents being shackled by outdated ideology. Rival professor Patrick
Stewart (Star Trek)
is suspicious of our flippant doctor at the medical inquest. Yes that
is
his kidney in the jar but it's not his
kidney!
Healing a grateful cripple offering a meager payment conflicts with
the necessary dehumanizing of the cadaver. Our doctor can't worry
that they used to be people when it's his duty to do what needs to be
done in the name of science. The provocative ideas are crowded with
the body snatching comic relief, unnecessary scenes, back alley
cockfights, and long gaps with seemingly important characters absent
onscreen. The last half hour rushes with dinner parties shocked to
hear of homelessness, doomed women, and the city squalor beneath the
high society galleries. More victims and moralistic questions split
hairs on if paying for bodies is murder for hire. Poor lodgers who
suspect foul play and a tough old lady that just won't die are oddly
played for laughs amid fiery dreams, butchers, and bodies in the
sewer. Recognizing a victim is inconsequential when our doctor
demands that he is right and the medical establishment is wrong. The
Hammer throwback vibes and gothic atmosphere are welcome with working
girls in peril, betrayals, and fingers left in the fireplace. However
the period drama and humorous attempts don't quite come together with
the best horror moments. This wraps up quickly with who's arrested or
gets away unbothered becoming lost – probably thanks to the decades
of delay and too many hands on the script.
