Bramwell Seasons 3 and 4

Sadly Bramwell Series 3 and 4 Go Downhill Fast

by Kristin Battestella

Doctor Eleanor Bramwell (Jemma Redgrave) continues to run the Thrift Street Infirmary with anesthetist Joseph Marsham (Kevin McMonagle) in the uneven 1997 ten episode Season Three of Bramwell. Despite personal tragedies and household upheavals, Doctor Robert Bramwell (David Calder) courts the wealthy Alice Costigan (Maureen Beattie), leaving Eleanor free for more romance as the series whimpers on with two faulty feature length episodes in Year Four. 

 

Already Bramwell is off on the wrong foot with “The Overnight Stay” as drunkards and burning accidents at the local brewery begat pain, shouting, hysterical mothers, and emergency hectic. If one didn't see the previous series, you wouldn't know what's happening, and all the screaming, poisoned patients, and alcoholism heavy handedness are forgotten once the romance returns for our eponymous lady doctor. The statements and forced melodrama remain uneven as the rekindled but over the top sappy drags on at the expense of everything else. Although it's immediately clear that ten hours is entirely too long a season, the second episode is much stronger and Bramwell improves greatly when focusing on the ensemble's personal and professional drama instead of this contrived, dead end love affair. Spending time without Eleanor in Episode Five ironically makes the show better, and it makes the audience wonder if she could have been written off or replaced as Year Three continues to fall apart with “The Beaten Wife.” Festive jubilee preparations contrast the downtrodden streets and shanty town house calls, however the severe split skulls and abusive bloody are cut short when the doctor once again ditches The Thrift for her boyfriend. Paralleling a truly terrible situation with her la dee da and the perceived problems of her subsequent break up is an embarrassing juxtaposition. Bramwell remembers it's medical premise with goiters, boils, infected abscesses, and dubious diagnosis in “The Faith Healer,” but patients are turning to religious healers and what the doctors call mumbo jumbo. Everyone is shouting, irrational, and angry at the perceived backward superstition against science. Sick patients who really need a doctor are walking out of the clinic, but Bramwell doesn't handle multiple medical issues per episode for most of this season, and the religious healing versus fatal fire and brimstone quackery never makes a stand either way in an aimless entry indicative of the season's unnecessary pains.

Jemma Redgrave's Doctor Eleanor Bramwell shouts at her staff and talks back to her father over her latest high horse cause, yet she's the one who isn't seeing to her patients because she's too busy getting some steamy. Our intelligent, hard working woman is once again ready to dump The Thrift for her marriage plans. Eleanor's angry at everyone else, but when she says another is strong in medicine but weak and foolish in the heart, we know she's talking about herself. The character shines much, much more as a woman and a doctor in a time ruled by men when only she is able to comfort an ill mother with a feminine gravitas. However, Bramwell spends most of its time with Eleanor moping, embarrassing herself in public, and threatening to close her clinic because a man didn't rescue her from being a spinster doctor. She runs away to stay with a friend for “The Mercenary Expecting,” but Eleanor isn't happy with any country idyllic or matchmaking and yells at the maid. Her friends are so, so tired of it, but she picks a fight with the local school and sick townsfolk, critical of lesser conditions and telling teachers how to handle ignorance and neglect. She accuses everyone high or low of being so smug, wrapping a situation that should be handled with forgiveness, food, and rest in a terribly uncomfortable attitude and over the top whining. Bramwell regresses its independent woman with nothing but mistakes, turning her into a bitter biddy who takes over The Thrift again only when it suits her – and when the clinic seemed to do better without her complaining. Eleanor calls her father selfish when he invests in his own practice rather than Thrift Street, and he counters that she needs to consider how other people have dreams and professional ambition beyond her little world. She also says it is for the best when things fall apart for him, which is totally rude, and it is obvious she's jealous of him getting remarried before she is wed. Bramwell becomes even more tone deaf when Eleanor says she's tired of reminding all the bleeding hearts around her of who they are and what they do, but she quickly realizes she is the one backed into a corner and dependent upon the nearest man. She even suggests she and Marsham marry because of how convenient it would be for her – out of her father's house and near East End with her own money – never considering his feelings for her when she steps out with yet another louse instead. Eleanor insists she is calm, able to deal, and not some silly girl, but we have seen every evidence to the contrary, and the character is completely unlikable by the end of the season. 

 

A newfound courting of a wealthy widow, however, has David Calder's Doctor Robert Bramwell recapturing his youthful adventurousness. Naturally, Eleanor's stubbornness and petty disapproval embarrasses him, and he rightfully tells her to catch some manners before giving her her mother's jewelry when she plots her ill-advised engagement. Robert still wants to be there and comfort her, but he's having his own awkwardness in “The Entrenched Rival” thanks to pompous competition and high society formalities when he's visiting his lady's country house. Robert doubts his walks in the moonlight will do, but he realizes it's worth vying for the lady. Ironically, dad does the courting right when his daughter falls for all the wrongs – it's almost as if he should be Bramwell's lead. Robert also does a risky surgery on an infant while Eleanor supports him, and he confesses how he lost his wife during an operation he performed on her. He takes new offices at a well to do address in “The Change of Life” and intends to ask Alice to marry him, but an infatuated young lady patient is making excuses with pains in delicate places. Robert remains professional, focusing on his charming proposal instead of the increasingly delusional hypochondriac. Who knew accusations, fanatical patients, and gunshots were exactly what Bramwell needed? Wedding announcements are in the newspaper by “The Short Chapter,” and Robert's laughing like he's twenty as The Thrift goes all out with a humble little party and sentimental gifts. Dad still worries about Eleanor in East End alone and wants her in the country with them, and Maureen Beattie as widowed brewery heiress Alice Costigan asks Eleanor to be her bridesmaid. She's a strong business woman supporting The Thrift, sticking to the rules without being cruel and helping her injured workers. Alice enjoys Robert's company and invites his simpler tastes into her world despite some haughty medical arguments – she is perhaps set in her ways and chooses the more eminent opinion instead of what's best for the patient. Alice gets knocked down from her social grandstanding, but admits when she is wrong, bringing Eleanor frocks and trying to suggest suitors or more help at the clinic. She's proud of Robert's work and happy to marry him but wishes he'd confide in her without worrying about money, status, or impressing anybody. She prefers mutual trust to doctor confidentiality and offers her finances to save his partnership in a tender, progressive equality again done better than her step-daughter's romances.

Kevin McMonagle's Doctor Joe Marsham remains the voice of reason on Bramwell despite saying he is rarely sober. He never seems to leave the clinic yet talks of taking a promotion with a real salary elsewhere. His wife, unfortunately, becomes ill in “The Diagnosis” and uses a fake name to see Eleanor by appointment. She has had miscarriages and they lost a child, but now there is swelling in her breast and she can't tell her husband. Marsham is angry his wife doesn't confide in him personally or professionally over such a serious illness, and the story balances the husband being unable to handle the severity and the timid woman in pain seen more as a specimen by an elitist specialist. Their choices for healthcare are impeded by his Scottish accent and cheap suit, and the entire Marsham family moves in with the Bramwells during the grim diagnosis for one of the series' finer episodes as the emotional ensemble shines amid grief, time wasted, and loneliness. Andrew Connolly, however, returns as Doctor Finn O'Neill in the Series Three premiere, still wooing Eleanor between lecture stops – dropping by to ruin her rep and she falls for it every time! Though ambitious, he wants assurance of her love before sounding like an abuser with excuses on why it is Eleanor's fault he returns from America with another bride. Everyone sees Finn coming – how can we believe he really loves Eleanor when all he's ever done is wrong her? It's a chore to watch “The Vaccination Experiment” late in the season when these same old moon eyes embarrass the Bramwells amidst would be provocative medical committees debating influenza and vaccinations. Eleanor justifies his work, too – dismissing his wife's ill health, letting the girl faint, and mistreating her out of romantic spite. Finn insists Eleanor knows he wouldn't experiment on people...but that's how they met!

She's terribly embarrassed by suggestive drunken ravings but Ruth Sheen's Nurse Carr sticks up for Eleanor against Finn's crap and isn't afraid to tell off a patient's abusive husband. Although a wonderful dancer tiring out all the men, she can still be found working in The Thrift at three in the morning and comes when the Bramwells call at home. She remains forgiving despite her priggish gruff, but when she tells the doctors she can't be in two places at once, they yell. Everyone's entitled to a bad day except her! Sadly Ethel's mother has begun wandering and stealing in “The Medical Hopeful” and both stubborn ladies refuse help even if Nurse Carr can't take care of her mother alone and won't think of putting her in an asylum. She steals opium from the clinic, spooning it to her mother to keep her calm before escalating to more upsetting elder abuse. The difficulties here are nobody's fault and that's the saddest part, but it's frustrating that the supporting tenderness is torn with severe personal troubles while the titular star has a sappy romance. Ben Brazier as young porter Sidney Bentley is barely there but for a quip or wisdom from the adults. He stands up for Nurse Carr when she teaches him to dance and says he's sorry for the way Finn treats Eleanor and he'd propose if he could. Keeley Gainey's maid Kate is also used for passing along exposition, an absent-minded girl sneaking out for stolen kisses and trying to use a typewriter. Thankfully, she stands up for herself against the jerks and accepts that she has no secretarial skills – humming, reciting poetry, and off to jubilee parties while remaining much needed kindly support.

Bramwell has plenty of turn of the century Victorian bustle with all the balloon sleeves, bonnets, feathers, and frocks needed for proper British formality. Bicycles, carriages, fancy manors, and period clutter set off the candles, crystal, cameos, pearls, and newfangled electric lights while medical gruesome, surgery knives, and blood provide gritty. Our faithful must make their jubilee flags themselves, but they play instruments, sing, and dance to make their own music, too. Be it funeral decorum or church wedding, the Gibson Girl hats and big plumes are ready – leaving the gowns and shining gems reserved for the evening parties amid marble ballrooms, fine china, and English gardens. Rain and blue lighting accent scandalous rendezvous, and overhead shots or point of view editing mirror emergencies with vintage microscopes, period medical equipment, big needles, and huge IV tubes. Bramwell shows the bloody burns and sores upon the breast in bitter contrast to the often quaint atmosphere. However, every time there is a hysterical shock, foul insult, or any kind of upset, ever – someone always inevitably suggests they have a cup of tea! Of course, stateside we would have called Bramwell canceled after Season Three and named the two 100 minute episodes following it television movie specials rather than a Series Four. New credits, military drums, black and white archive footage, absent characters – you would have no idea “The Brave Boys” is supposed to be about a lady doctor if you started here with redcoats and muckrakers shouting in the streets. The always delightful but barely there Jenny Agutter (Logan's Run) is shoehorned in amid busy back and forth editing trying to set the wartime scene, hectic camerawork, and poor outdoor cinematography. It's Eleanor Takes on the Army as sergeants object to her being a recruit doctor. Marsham says he isn't being paid by Her Majesty's Service, so he just lets his future wife do the grab and cough on all these ready and waiting bare butt soldiers instead? There is no sign of romantic affection between the colleagues, and if Robert Bramwell objected to his daughter being called a cunt by patients on Thrift Street, I wonder what he thinks of her military cajoling? Useless scenes and annoying music add to the confusion for anyone unfamiliar with the Boer Wars and Dutch prejudice, leaving characters to take surprisingly racist turns. Nobody's on the same side, and instead of tying up the loose ends from Year Three, this episode throws enemy patients and friendly barracks into the messy mix. Once again, Eleanor drops everything for a Major she doesn't even really like who gets her hot and bothered, because as independent as she claims to be, all the men are still telling her what to do. Apparently there's some kind of marriage and pregnancy scandal in the second feature “The Loose Women,” but I just can't go on anymore.

Bramwell shoots itself in the foot with squandered time on round and round romantic melodrama. Despite stronger stories yet to be told with other characters, plenty of period toils, and more medical possibilities, the series looses its way amid both too many episodes and bizarre format changes. There is still some fine Victorian drama from the tormented ensemble, but unfortunately Bramwell is best left after the Second Season thanks to an increasing unlikability untrue to its original premise.

Bramwell Seasons 1 and 2

Bramwell Series 1 and 2 Worth a Look

by Kristin Battestella

Young, stubborn Doctor Eleanor Bramwell (Jemma Regrave) struggles to fit in with the male dominated Victorian hospitals and instead opens a Thrift Street Infirmary in the downtrodden East End – establishing 1995's Bramwell in a worthy seven episode debut.

The London 1895 operating theater opening “The World of Man” is full of men with scalpels giving instructions on removing ovaries to cure a woman's hysteria. Bloody bandages and dirty rags visualize the risky surgical statistics as our eponymous woman doctor suggests the opposite – would we cut off the testicles of an unhappy man? Sass and piano music contrast the amputation shockers as the upper glass gents barely tolerate this annoying female. After all, it is a woman's fault if she can't have a baby because her aristocrat husband gave her syphilis! Female tears and men's dirty secrets make it difficult for a doctor to find the truth, and Bramwell goes for the heavy topics early. Rather than have medicine bow to social graces, our lady finds new causes via her Thrift Street Infirmary. However, the clinic gets off to a rocky start with chloroform but no masks, delicate bowel surgeries, and jerky patients high and low wanting morphine or champagne amid vaudeville songs, bawdy humor, and a little romance with Shirley Anne Field (Lady Chatterley) in “The Threat of Reprise.” Our doctors promise not to talk about blood and gore when meeting the bishop for a donation, but they will poor tea and discuss urine tests and gutting patients. Drunken men just don't want a woman operating on them, and Bramwell layers The Thrift cases, personal dramas, and underlying themes per episode as mistakes are made and lessons are learned in this still relatively barbaric time in medicine. Sadly, a laundry woman in labor and her husband Idris Elba (Prometheus) fear they'll be found out in “The Outcast's Baby” as of the time whispers about not having delivered any black babies add to the “But she's English!” racist reactions. Fine performances make up for anything on the nose as heathen jokes and thieving suspicions add to the primitive attitudes before a premature breach birth, blood loss, and antiquated equipment lead to gruesome conflicts at the all important society dinner party. Wet nurses must be bribed, everyone argues if the child belongs with its black father or in a white orphanage, and Bramwell's dilemmas don't always have an easy answer.

However, Bramwell's Second eight episode 1996 Season struggles with an uneven start before a strong mid-season thanks to the cholera outbreak of “The New Formula.” Vomiting and boiling water escalate to quarantines and radical new medicines – The Thrift is ill equipped for such contagious crowds and blood everywhere. Doctors disagree on the source, disinfecting the ward, and how to treat foreign patients. The more ambitious physicians accept the treatment risks, jeopardizing one to save another with desperate and ambiguous but necessary decisions resulting in shocking miscalculations and upsetting fatalities. “The International Connection” begins with stereotypical Native American views and judging intelligence on the size of the so-called sub race skull as imperial rich white attitudes decide it's better for a poor child to be adopted abroad. This suave would be savior claims he's helping the children even as he calls them dumb, dirty urchins prone to steal and shouts at his fainting and bruising young wife Kelly Reilly (Eden Lake). Barbaric positions on battered women, self harm, and the measure of human intelligence being the deciding factor on how you treat a person are rightfully called ridiculous while those who stand up because the needs of the child are more important are berated as sentimental and spineless. This is a surprisingly timely and strong episode layering several issues. Alas, the street fair, fun house mirrors, and bemusing mermaids of “The Carnival Attraction” lead to monstrous stigmas and dangerous surgeries to correct a girl's facial deformity. Is she better off in the freak show or risking an operation for a chance at a normal life? The procedure goes forth despite disagreements on the course of action, employer interference, and the possibility of brain damage. Once again, The Thrift oversteps its bounds of care amid abuse, abandonment, and blame before a post-carriage accident exam reveals a lady patient is really male prostitute Hans Matheson (The Tudors) in “The Identity Loss.” Our female doctor understands the role reversal despite others' homophobia and sodomite pointing fingers hypocrisy. They cut his long hair over his preference for a feminine appearance, and when he's attacked by other patients, the police don't exactly care. No one's willing to donate blood for a jury rigged transfusion, and although he's conflicted at his so-called wickedness, he asks what he did wrong. While this is a very topical episode today, in the mid-nineties such themes were not often discussed, yet sophomore Bramwell does so a year before Dr. Quinn: Medicine Woman does in its fifth season.

Unfortunately, Bramwell does have several less than stellar outings including “The Doctor's Committal” when the Thrift staff go looking for tuberculous and find a foul mouthed man refusing to admit he's in ill health. The gentleman doctors at the club have wealthy patients throwing their money away on new, unproven electric therapy, but our doctors won't walk away from those who don't want to be saved – and intrude right into their family affairs with elite no divorce attitudes and institutionalizing a man who'd rather live in uncouth happy squalor over upper class fronting. When doctors are causing trouble rather than helping, it makes for an unlikable hour. Bramwell has an early series arc establishing the clinic, but most episodes are individual crusades of the week with heavy social commentaries and no lighthearted breaks, simple Victorian cases, or explorations on the supporting cast. The overall drama is fine, but early in Year Two, A/B style plotlines tackle too much. Newfangled elevators, rail cars, and train delays lead to a well done disaster with sideways cameras, screaming zooms, and darkness in “The Rule of Thuggery.” Rescuing those trapped, leg injuries, broken arms, and dangerous debris provide fine shocks in this Series Two premiere as in the field amputations without morphine escalate into lingering trauma and gangrene. Sadly, this disaster plot degrades into thugs coercing patients because a crook wants to launder his dirty money through the infirmary. The gangster charity cum East End intimidation is hammy when neighborhood strong arming could have been an ongoing issue instead of shoehorning such themes into another story. St. Jude's Hospital is looking for a clinic assistant in “The Strain of Conscience,” and the stuffy committee that won't hire women makes Eleanor prove herself yet again by taking a test when there's a pregnant teen prostitute at The Thrift asking for an abortion so her pimp won't beat and starve her. Our lady doctor will probably always have to prove herself, but social vindication should not be what's the more important plot here.

Jemma Redgrave (Holby City and yes of those Redgraves) as Doctor Eleanor Bramwell chooses to be a surgeon in East End, eighteen inch waists and fainting spells be damned! She's not afraid to stand between an angry man and his quarry if medicine and compassion warrant, for her goal is to preserve the healthy and to work where she's needed, treating people regardless of what kind of person they are – an admirable but not always practical quest. Eleanor crudely sews a skirt into wide leg trousers to ride her bicycle and gets loud with unruly patients at The Thrift. She's both educated and determined but inexperienced as a doctor and often in over her head. Eleanor will crusade for the poor even when terrible people don't deserve such care yet she gets snotty with her frumpy society patients and looks down on a dance hall maven. Her judgment is clouded, and Bramwell allows its lead to be imperfect. Although sometimes the pursed lips and scene chewing is obvious, Eleanor can also be stubborn and fresh to those who help her, and she's too busy taking on every battle to notice when others exhaust themselves for her cause. Despite child welfare and labor injuries, “The Thrift of the Hunter” is the first time anything other than doctoring gets her attention – and it's the titular too good to be true neurologist who's curious about this radical lady surgeon. Scandals, marriages of convenience, and deceptions make for a more personal, humanizing episode as Eleanor cries at her bureau over men making her look the fool. The Series One finale “The Ideal Suitor” also has men arguing over how strong willed women need strong willed men, and Eleanor is taken down a peg over the barefisted boxing, army uniforms, and knockout injuries. She insists she's not a schoolgirl, but the awkward courting leads to a choice between marriage or medicine, for in this era, a woman can't do both. Blind patients and brain surgery are also tense enough without Bramwell resorting to sexual violence threats as proof of why she needs a man to protect her, but Series Two has her neglecting her clinic for a charming Irish rogue. It's surprising to see her crusade so easily dropped since the entire show is about her being emphatically against the malaise of high end medicine, but by “The Final Days” Season Two finale, Eleanor is off on a secret weekend vacation with her best gowns and hair down, forgetting any medical disagreements with Doctor O'Neill when they are mistaken for Mr. and Mrs. Bramwell. Maybe she's always meant to be unlucky in love, however it's frustrating that she can be so naive and emotionally attached to a man who does not give or earn her professional respect.

David Calder (Widows) as Eleanor's father Robert is often caught in the middle between the man's man doctoring and when his daughter is in the right. He wants her to tend the ladies in his private practice, but warns high horse Eleanor when she meddles with patient emotions or vulnerability without any social discretion or considering their own family reputation. Robert wishes her late mother had been there to soften their daughter rather than let the hard world harden her, but he has a medicinal whiskey with Eleanor each night whether she heeds his regimental surgeon expertise or not. Kind Dad gives up his train seat to a little girl, goes on house calls despite his own broken arm, and tries to set up his uninterested daughter with a former soldier friend when not objecting to her new style low cut gown. He still wants to pick the man to look after Eleanor, failing to realize she doesn't need looking after by anyone. Robert's often angry over the risks at The Thrift and the surgical dangers at such improper facilities but in his own practice he'd rather not cheat a patient or tell them what they want to hear – making an enemy of important colleagues who provide high society placebos. However, certain cases also bring back painful wartime memories, and Robert questions his daughter's ambition when her patients are caught in the crossfire. When she lies about her relationships with men, Robert's shocked by her behavior yet relents on her romance because he is a good father who loves her regardless. In “The Return of the Betrayer” the elder Bramwell begrudgingly allows his penniless sister to return home amid the upscale dinner parties, sing a longs, and well earned fellowships threatened by her arrival. It's twenty years too late for forgiving her debts or scandalous living in sin with a married man, and this hour is one of the stronger episodes from Year Two in balancing both the at home and the hospital. Eleanor suggests her aunt take on The Thrift administrator role, and it might have been interesting to have a charming, outspoken society dame as a recurring character. Unfortunately, this spicy sister can't quite get respectable thanks to a young doctor Andrew Lincoln (The Walking Dead).

Kevin McMonagle's (Your Cheatin' Heart) Scottish Doctor Joe Marsham is also right when he says Eleanor brings everything on herself. He's comes to Thrift Street as a part time anesthetist before becoming a full time surgeon not afraid to tell it like it is to patients or either Bramwell. Marsham plays the soundboard for both father and daughter, toeing the line on their high ideals as needed because loyalty to the patient is the more important than lining his pockets. Though married and forced to do a dangerous operation on his own daughter, Marsham's jealous of Eleanor's suitors, saying she has more understanding that his wife and her strength is often what keeps him going. She likewise relies on his peacekeeping, but Marsham deflects on his true feelings to keep their friendship undamaged. He takes his doctoring seriously and wants everybody to pretend like they are in a proper infirmary without all their emotional turmoil. Andrew Connolly's (Fair City) introduction as St. Jude's doctor Finn O'Neill, however, is much more upfront. He doesn't want a woman doctor at his hospital but any antagonism with Eleanor is forgotten in half an episode – he wants her to lecture and loves her unusual personality! Of course, she uses his research opportunity to shock all her male colleagues with her latest infirmary case, and using a patient to prove a point impresses him. Finn also tosses out an ill woman running into his hospital screaming for help, and he's a two faced, unlikable example of what's wrong with medicine then and now. Eleanor calls him out over his using her infirmary when it suits him, but Bramwell rushes their relationship with his soulmates talk, making her look the other way when people die amid his trial and error medical science. He claims he's dedicated to saving lives and will do whatever it takes to treat the sick, glowing things Eleanor falls for while her father rightfully calls him a seducer and scheming opportunist. He confesses his love and asks for her hand in marriage a little late – after everyone is supposedly overreacting over his scandalous history.

Former patient and amputee Bentley becomes porter at The Thrift, using his crutch against unruly ruffians a time or two. Although as the series progresses, he goes sans support and Bramwell goes out of its way to never show Cliff Parisi's (EastEnders) from the knees down, leaving the audience to forget his missing foot rather than address any struggle. In Series Two, Ben Brazier (Layer Cake) as Bentley's equally sarcastic son Sidney helps at the infirmary, and both have a cantankerously endearing relationship with Ruth Sheen's (Another Year) Nurse Ethel Carr. Initially there as required, Nurse Carr makes an interesting counterpoint to the doctors with her affectionate bedside manner. She rightly prescribes that sometimes all a young patient needs is love and stands by Eleanor even when struck by attackers. Bentley calls her the pearl in his oyster who's a pain in his ass and “soft as shit,” but Nurse Carr enjoys giving Sidney some tough love. She confronts Eleanor too, thinking the doctor is often her own worst enemy for picking the wrong battles over the wrong clientele. Keeley Gainey (No Bananas) as Kate the Bramwell's long time maid is also solid as maids go, remaining supportive and praying for patients, but Bramwell could have done much more with its ensemble, focusing on their plights or dilemmas rather than tackling so many big issues. Michele Dotrice (Some Mothers Do 'Ave 'Em) as the ward's widowed benefactor Lady Cora Peters is initially shocked and fainting, but she wants to be where her wealth will do good. She handles the clinic's administration while charming more dough from other elites. Despite growing frail herself, Lady Cora wears a brave face and questions why Eleanor always criticizes or creates problems where there are none. It could have been fun to see her become more medically hands compared to Robert Hardy's (All Creatures Great and Small) mean, arrogant Doctor Herbert Hamilton. He'd rather do a hysterectomy on a healthy woman to cover for her noble husband, and Eleanor rightly calls him a greedy, past it charlatan placing politics above medicine when he tells her women were only made to be wives. He presents himself as doing no wrong in “The Trust of Kings,” but even his young medical students question his practice. Hamilton refuses to take The Thrift seriously, denying their use of a new x-ray machine and doing a patient more harm by ignoring overexposure warnings. He prescribes laudanum for the rich and misdiagnoses a woman as emotional when it is really a then fatal appendix. Typical!

Such maids, tea time, and English decorum add to Bramwell's late Victorian feathers, top hats, long skirts, fitted jackets, puffy sleeves, silk frocks, pocket watches, and white gloves. Those giant sleeves seem just a little impractical amid the blood splattered surgery aprons, medical bags, and nurses caps! How does all that fabric get into the tighter fitting coats? Despite candlelight dinners, gas lamps, ink blotters, crystal, pianos, and carriages; the downtrodden cobblestone and industrial mood remain gritty and dirty thanks to leeches, gross autopsies, intestines, bone saws, and onscreen amputations. Bramwell is a more realistic drama compared to the romantic, bright, western style of the earlier set but released two years prior Dr. Quinn: Medicine Woman. The subdued palette and older, flat picture isn't very colorful, however, that adds to that East End bitter, primitive Victorian medical equipment, retro needles, vintage tourniquets, and bad teeth. Bicycles, boat races, and park strolls provide some whimsy amid cluttered period interiors relying on window light schemes – early microscopes, flash powder cameras, tea cups, and walking sticks carry an old fashioned charm. I chuckle also at every episode title needing an unnecessary “the,” and you could have a drinking game for every time they say “anesthetist” with their decidedly British pronunciation. Brief crass language and slang are also nothing too offensive or overly Cockney amid each largely dialogue driven fifty minutes. Ten episodes from Series One and Two were written by Lucy Gannon (Peak Practice) with director David Tucker (A Very Peculiar Practice) helming eleven hours of Bramwell, creating a cohesive but sensitive journey for our lady doctor.

Bramwell is a fine period drama not only less saccharin than the more well known Dr. Quinn, but easier to marathon thanks to its shorter seasons. Topical issues and the breaking of Victorian taboos are well presented in a likable feminine frame, making Bramwell a fine little piece that shouldn't be overlooked.