British Girl Power!

Girl Power: British Edition!

by Kristin Battestella

Be it Edwardian dames duking out the right to vote, post-war Liverpool ladies looking for love in all the wrong places, or wig wearing twenty-first century women barristers seeking justice in a man's world, these gals from across the pond make heaps of girl power in this trio of short-lived serials. 

 

Lilies– There are some stumbling blocks to start this lone 8 hour 2007 season – one being a reaching title when these three sisters with a shell shocked brother and deadbeat dad feels more like Shameless: Liverpool 1920. The attention on each daughter is uneven and crowded with fast moving Olympic swimming trials, courtships, and weddings resolved in one episode. Suicide attempts and talk of their late mother are also dropped or recalled as needed, and early jazz style music is too lighthearted to play over the serious scenes, breaking the drama with whimsical moments desperate to needlessly tie every story to the family pianola. The comical tunes even play over a sequence where a woman is drugged and stripped by a photographer! The pace may have been better with both parents deceased, as there's not enough time for the kitchen dilemmas, saucy servants romancing the boss, feisty corset selling, and wartime wounds to be as shocking as they should be. Fortunately, religious rifts and townsfolk help or hindrance balance the interwoven plots better by Episode Three, with cowardly white feathers, women at work, xenophobia, illegitimacy, and convents tugging and pulling the family in different directions. The typically ill fated homosexual plotline may be slightly mishandled, but the forbidden romance, stigmas, and war fallout are dealt with more honestly and refreshingly than the usual same sex shock values. Modern topics such as postpardum depression and the priesthood are addressed in drama and scandals without being melodramatic and scandalous. This is a unique setting, and the impact of the time and place on the tales is steeped with charm and atmosphere, holding the audience further alongside the decent storytelling that at least deserved another season. By the penultimate hour, love and spiritual conflicts, new relationships, and paternal growth contrast the colliding violence and family rows as old ideals and new attitudes clash. The eponymous girls must face serious quandaries on their own – they don't make do without difficulty, but we want to see them come through it all. Secondary love interests leave enough hopeful potential while the finale drops the musical extras to spend serious time with the core characters in a pleasing little conclusion.

Silk – Maxine Peake (Shameless) is on form as a not so put together but likable gung ho in the courtroom barrister seeking her titular QC alongside the mixing business with pleasure Rupert Penry-Jones (MI-5), and wheeling and dealing chambers clerk Neil Stuke (Game On). Trading solicitor business over breakfast drinks, shady funds, and backdoor favors make for dirty good drama, and with his stable of directors in two episode blocks, series writer Peter Moffat (North Square) tackles juicy topics such as office dalliances, hierarchy subterfuge, and chambers rivalries amid taboo cases on elder abuse, teacher/student relations, racism, sexism, women's rights, religion, child prostitution, assisted suicide, harassment, and terrorism. Of course, unaware Americans will be very confused at the English legalese thanks to different solicitor roles or lawyer responsibilities and least of all, the robes and wigs. Who knew cruising in the bathroom was really cottaging in the urinal? Though perhaps derivative of other UK courtroom dramas, nothing stateside comparable comes to mind. The pregnancy storyline may be trite, but backroom meetings, corruptions, and conflicts of interest tip the scales on any protocol or formalities. Literal and figurative getting in bed with the right or wrong people make or break careers, and familiar UK TV faces pepper the ensemble with tug and pull gravitas including Natalie Dormer (Game of Thrones), Miranda Raison (Spotless), Nina Sosanya (Marcella), Alex Jennings (The Crown), Phil Davis (Whitechapel), Indira Varma (Luther), and Frances Barber (Doctor Who). It's also wonderful to see female directors, casting on par between men and women, and edgy adult conflicts rather than the same young, pretty people focus. Overstepping boundaries schemes and power hungry underhandedness also take a humble as personal issues and heath discomforts change dynamics. While at times heavy handed – every speech every person makes carries a serious, slow zoom with big sighs and deep emotions – casual humor alleviates the drama. Inconsistent threads and dropped characters also come and go in the first two seasons, and Series Three strays with more character tangents, rival clerks, and head of chambers contests. It's all fine drama, just odd to expand while building toward a round about two-part finale. These downfalling characters have been spiraling out of control for some time, leaving an unusual but fitting changing of the guard exit that continues the viewer conversation long after the show ends. The heavy hitting may be lessened on a re-watch, but these eighteen episodes remains short, easy to binge quality over quantity. Now if only “clerking” wasn't pronounced “clarking” I'd be okay.

Up the Women – Who says a period piece has to be drama based on a book? This thirty minute 2013 suffragette sitcom from writer/star Jessica Hynes (Spaced) co-starring Rebecca Front (Inspector Lewis) has all the button up fashions, big hats, and turn of the century accessories for the Edwardian decorum – and the self-aware at odds humor and simple stage setting have fun with the fast talking witty women and stammering men who can't screw in a newfangled light bulb. The laugh track isn't necessary, however the subtitles help with the numerous puns and one should appreciate British humor – complete with teeth jokes and cheese riffs– to enjoy the cheeky here. From a mother with fifteen kids and more on the way, the dirty old lady, an ugly spinster, the rebellious daughter, our progressive wannabe suffragette, and a snotty woman in charge more concerned with quorums, motions, and minutes at a sewing circle, each woman uses modern sensibilities to challenge a female stereotype without being anachronistic. What do women do when they get together? Complain about kids, joke on men, gossip, buy store bought and say it was homemade. What anarchy! The sassy, well written dialogue packs a lot of illusion and references amid the revolution hyperbole, and the historical uprising remains a timely comment today. While the period trappings keep the vagina euphemisms classy, men explain simple things to women as overly complicated and sight gags like disastrous oversize picket signs accent the protests at a closed post office, jam sales sold to each other, and the hunger strike that can't be done on an empty stomach. Rival movements, women in sports with equipment laughs, and men with feminine names illume the serious focus behind this satire written and directed by women – everyone speaks properly with polite, superfluous words while denying women the right to vote and they are congratulated for the ability to speak well enough to fool the listener on what's really being said. Why does a woman need to be painted and dressed up like a mannequin to not move or shock everyone by wearing her hair down instead of in a bun? Serious questions about the gloves on hierarchy, force of government, and women consenting to farcical leadership pepper the catty women versus sisterhood humor. These six episodes have enough room for interwoven stories and social plots but move fast and don't overstay their welcome. The pip pip cheerio may be over the top at times with a wordiness or flummoxed for the sake of it, however that matches the earnest intentions and spiked tea that never turn out quite right. This isn't laugh out loud commentary, but the chuckling wit is the perfect size for a weekend marathon and remains worth a look.

Schoolgirl Spooky!

Schoolgirl Spooky!

By Kristin Battestella

Ah, young love, coming of age, high school, sorority parties! These aren't such fond memories for the past and present students in this trio of international girl horrors tackling frights, naughty innuendo, the supernatural, and killers on the loose. You know, the usual. 

The Falling – Game of Thrones' Maisie Williams leads a group of hysterical English schoolgirls in this 2014 period mystery complete with creepy folk tunes, beautiful landscapes, and old time school bells. The similarities with Picnic at Hanging Rock are also apparent with latent BFFs, a budding blonde, the awkward brunette, the chubby girl playing an instrument, and a science girl in glasses. They sit outside with umbrellas with their pretty teacher, swans, and stopped watches while resentful older crones roll their eyes, and its discomforting to see virgin girls in pigtails discuss orgasms and solving one's pregnancy problems via spells, knitting needles, and a medical book – with icky tips from your brother, too. Maisie's Lydia talks sophisticated but remains a little girl hiding in a nursery cupboard perhaps unaware of why she wants her pretty friend to herself. She browbeats her smoking, washed up mother – the unrecognizable Maxine Peake (Silk) – and is too full of herself to consider her mother's reasons. There should have been more of the adult perspectives bolstering the school and religious structure against the natural, tree loving girls growing up too soon. These teens are trying to be shocking, rebellious, and acting out vicariously – regrets, sexual activity, unhealthy obsessions, and experimentation escalate into fainting fits and faux orgasmic hysteria. Unfortunately, unnecessary music video styled transitions, subliminal strobe inserts, and modern meta interference detract from the repression and grief while external music and spinning cameras make the fainting spells laughable. Did they practice falling? How many flopping on the floor takes were there? Characters calmly step over the girls on the floor, and bemusing “thud” closed captioning accents Lydia's falling and taking everything off the table with her. The middle aged women have a good laugh over these young kids thinking they are older and misunderstood, and faculty debates on science and attention seeking are much better – are the occult, local lay lines, nearby supernatural trees to blame? Do you ostracize one or hospitalize the entire class? Faking or follower questions layer the second half alongside school consequences, perception versus reality, lesbian whispers, and sexual violence. Although the medical testings feel glossed over, the intercut eye twitching, body language, and question and answer psychiatry suggest more – as do other shockers dropped in the last ten minutes. Writer and director Carol Morley's (Dreams of a Life) long form narrative does get away from itself, and this try hard can't always be taken seriously. However, this tale both glorifies femininity and vilifies budding women and the spinster the way society both pedestals and shames, adding enough food for thought to some of the inadvertent chuckles. 

The House on Sorority Row – Pranks and murders on campus, oh my! This 1983 cult slasher opens with a risky pregnancy, pulsing heartbeats, and emergency scalpels before trading the stormy past and blue patinas for some sunny eighties happiness. Everything is so young, beautiful, and babealicious when you graduate from college! It's still fun to see retro cars or rad vans, huge cameras, records, waterbeds, fluorescent fashions, and colorful wallpaper – though there's too much teal and pink for my tastes. Coiffed older women also look quite forties with floppy satin bow shirts and stockings, visually creating a generational divide to represent the living in the past mentalities or old fashioned thinking – they'll be no goodbye parties, beer, or horny and useless frat boys in this house! While there is no chubby gal with glasses, there are some ugly guys used for humor and splatter, and in true eighties horror movie requirement, there is a girl too old to be in pigtails alongside the sex and boobs. Why don't these graduated girls just leave instead of pranking the old lady that wants them to abide the rules of her house? Not to mention they are some pretty poor party hosts – one should always wait to kill somebody till after the festivities so arriving guest don't interfere in your getting rid of the body blundering. Creaking rocking chairs, nursery rhyme music, creepy jester dolls, and a nasty looking cane perfect for bludgeoning accent the good girl versus bad girl slaps, gun play, and deserved turnabouts. Granted, there are some chuckles thanks to stupid actions, some identity of the murderer obviousness, and an overall tameness on what is now a cliché genre formula. Perhaps the one by one kills are predictable – there's a dame alone in the dark basement, because, of course – however the suspense, shadows, and unseen killer editing are well done. The primary location intensifies the bathroom traps, warped mothering, and well paced pursuits while surprise color, angles, and apparitions add to the solid final act. Although the gore isn't elaborate for the sake of it, there are some bloody, creative moments, and this fun, half a million dollar ninety minutes does everything it sets out to do without resorting to today's in your face spectacle.

Picnic at Hanging Rock – The Criterion blu-ray has almost two hours more features discussing this 1975 Australian spooky drama based on the Joan Lindsay novel about schoolgirls gone missing in 1900. The innocent white lace and valentine wishes are soon to be ill foreboding thanks to eerie music and budding whispers. These girls tighten each others corsets in parallel shots with mirrors, BFF poetry, latent suggestions, and repression abound. The seventies breezy fits the late Victoria ruffles, hats, and parasols – gloves are permitted to be removed for this excursion! Capable Aussie help and buttoned up British elite mark a strong class divide, and pretty mountain vistas, wild vegetation, and rocky mazes contrast the lovely yet out of place English manor. Straightforward, controlled camerawork captures the society at home, but surreal, swooning outdoor panoramas invoke Bermuda Triangle suggestions alongside dreamy voiceovers, rolling cloud rumbles, and red symbolism. Insects, reptiles, swans, disturbed bird migrations, fickle horses, watches stopping at noon – the metaphysical or transcendental signs imply something beyond mere coming of age and sexual awakening. Trance like magnetic lures radiating from the titular nooks and crannies stir these Gibson Girl naps, and askew slow motion reflects this layered beauty meets danger. The enchanting blonde, the nerdy girl with glasses, an awkward brunette, and the complaining chubby girl – standard horror stereotypes today – all talk as if they are up to something naughty with self-aware doomed to die chats before scandalously removing their shoes and stockings. A flirty French teacher, the severe math teacher in red reciting lava flow build up and volcano rising statistics with an uncomfortable kinky – we don't see what happens. However, hearing the screams and watching the resulting hysterics make it creepier. Incomplete searches, Victorian speculation, and unreliable witnesses muddle the investigation, but most importantly, doctors assure the survivors are still chaste. Such delicate interrogations and polite society leave newspapers and angry townsfolk wondering while the school faces its own fallout with withdrawals, unpaid terms, drinking, and guilt. Yes, there's some artistic license with absent families, poor forensics, and missing evidence ignored. Surprising connections, however, and good twists in the final forty minutes keep this damn disturbing – and it's all done without gore or effects. The innate power of suggestion, period restraints, and our own social expectations drum up all kinds of unknown possibilities, and I don't know how anyone doesn't consider this a horror movie.

The Hollow Crown

The Hollow Crown a Delightful Shakespeare Presentation

by Kristin Battestella

In 2012, the BBC Two and later PBS presented this ambitious four part television adaptation of William Shakespeare's histories Richard II, Henry IV Part I, Henry IV Part II, and Henry V collectively called The Hollow Crown. Though seemingly overwhelming, these telemovies help make The Bard more accessible and relatable to the masses with fine characters, charming performances, and classic storytelling. 
 

Richard II – BAFTA winner Ben Whishaw (Skyfall), Patrick Stewart (X-Men), Rory Kinnear (Penny Dreadful), David Morrissey (The Walking Dead), David Suchet (Poirot), James Purefoy (The Following) and more impressive players anchor this first telefilm alongside colorful draped fabrics, regal armor, and medieval chorales setting the 14^th century mood. Despite great historical locations, coastal scenery, horses, and jousts, the design still feels somewhat stage-like or fittingly small scale – our ensemble sits ready to speak in open stone halls rightfully situated not for royal splendor but rather what's being said. Fortunately, the delivery here is smooth and dramatic without hefty, preachy dictation. This court tension just happens to be in old speaketh, and we're not merely watching a play being read aloud the way so many stateside high schoolers erroneously experience Shakespeare. Of course, it does help to know the history at work – Gloucester, Bolingbroke, Plantagenets, ambiguous effemininity. Subtitles are necessary, and scholars may enjoy having a hand held copy handy to compare text. At two and a half hours, there are perhaps some unnecessary to and fro scenes where folks only move to go and talk somewhere different. Arty, overly fancy transition shots; incredibly dark, difficult to see scenes; and distorted, up close camerawork symbolizing the askew mentalities at work make for some tough visuals on top of already difficult and often confusing Shakespearean dialogue. Ironically, thanks to the sophisticated accents and pretty pentameter, this treasonous spearhead is quite pleasant just listening to it! Richard is petty, unlikable, pretentious, out of touch, juvenile, and, well, Kardashian. Understandably the audience expects his downfall yet we can't look away as he questions his kingship, grows conflicted by his actions, and realizes mistakes made in a messianic fall from grace. This is not an easy part to play, but Whishaw embodies the misunderstood boy and undiagnosed but somehow poetic madness. We don't want to choose sides in this comeuppance even as we look for the neutral historical end – after all, both Richard and the future Henry IV do some despicable stuff. There's sympathy, humanity, and a perfectly bittersweet glory in this usurp. 

 

Henry IV Part I – Jeremy Irons (Reversal of Fortune), Simon Russell Beale (Penny Dreadful), Tom Hiddleston (The Avengers), Michelle Dockery (Downton Abbey), Julie Walters (Billy Elliot), and Maxine Peake (Silk) get Episode 2 of The Hollow Crown off to a bustling, ye olde start with medieval markets, lively music, crowded pubs, and drunken good times. Though candlelit charming with wooden sets and a rustic mood, the interiors can be somewhat dark to see. Fortunately, those impoverished designs fittingly contrast the cold, bleak, echoing, stone court full of depressing somber and arguments – a higher up but not as fun place. Again it helps to know the history in the interim from Richard II – Hotspur, Northumberland, Scottish rifts – and the intercut but separate storylines may seem confusing or uneven if one is unfamiliar with the mix of serious court intrigue and cheeky Boar's Head Inn. It takes half the two hour time for the plots to come together, however its dynamite when they do. While Joe Armstrong's (Robin Hood) Percy revolts and Harry Lloyd's (Game of Thrones) pretentiousness aren't as exciting as they should be, Dockery keeps their dilemma interesting. Ironically, although everything is set in motion because of him, we don't see Irons as the titular king very much. He mumbles somewhat as well but his voice carries the proper weight on the king's shoulders low gravitas– uneasy lies the head that wears the crown and all that. Hiddleston's longer blonde hair isn't my favorite look, either, but he is distractingly pretty as the red leather bound, rakish about town Prince Hal. This is an indulgent viewing for fans just as much as scholars can delight in his rolling off the tongue delivery. He's relishing the role and why not? We so often treat Shakespeare with dread, but these are happy drunken antics well balanced with bawdy fun, serious voiceover soliloquies, and proving one's worth. Hiddleston also does a great impression of Irons, and BAFTA winner Beale is a wonderful Falstaff – a fool not quite ready to leave his selfish ways but lovable even when crude or up to no good. With so many multi-layered characters arcs and performances to follow into Part II, this definitely takes more than one viewing. As fine as we expect Bill's words to be, the between the lines are delightful alongside the small scale but cinematic filming and action-centric Shrewsbury finale.

Henry IV Part II – Unlike the cashing in of unnecessarily divided blockbusters, this historical second half was filmed by returning director Richard Eyre (Notes on a Scandal) back to back with its predecessor, utilizing the same locales and cast with choice additions such as Ian Glen (Game of Thrones). Unfortunately, other new and seemingly unimportant secondary characters aren't properly introduced alongside the thin and increasingly somber source material. The pace drags in the middle, growing boring or feeling overlong when the interesting journeys and people we care about are offscreen. The music still creates a quaint atmosphere, however congested arguing on top of the jigs can be frustrating to discern for the non Bard versed. Thankfully, the melancholy court, Latin prayers, and whispering political asides accent the medieval mood. This is a darker picture, with blue hues for castle ills and a tainted yellow patina for Eastcheap before uplifting music, pomp ceremony, and fresh reds and golds reset the tone for Henry V. Jeremy Irons looks increasingly sickly with bleak soliloquies and tender, wise dimension for his sons adding reflection amid his failing health. It's depressing how the separate storylines all sink low despite battle victory and would be elevations, but nonetheless, the intertwined and reversed fates beautifully reveal themselves. Though raised up, Falstaff sticks to his old tricks, using his chance for a clean start for more foolish thinking – like presuming he would be the right hand man for fun and games under King Hal. We can't hate Falstaff thanks to bittersweet ponderings and tender scenes with Maxine Peake as Doll Tearsheet, but he's both too old to right himself and too set in his crooked ways. Prince Hal's so called friends all tail him for their own best interests, but he has to make the big decision to grow up and put away his trouble making pals. We know the history and strife, yet it's still wonderful to see Hal pondering with Henry IV, realizing Falstaff for what he really is, and accepting the right path between his two flawed father figures. Hiddleston appears a half hour in to Part II as the shirtless and charming Hal, however, he seems to have less screen time until his confrontation with Falstaff halfway through – his red leather jacket appears briefly in Hal's only Boar's Head scene before gradual outfit changes suggest the regal velvets to come for the brilliant finale. This final act forgives any sagging with its fathers and sons, deathbed vigils, and tearful men becoming noble kings. There's no time to mourn when the torch is passed, nor is it any easier when the crown goes from one head to the next instead of being built on battlefield legacies. There's a nice behind the scenes feature on this disc discussing both Henry IV parts, and though uneven, this episode does what it sets out to do in making us eager to see what happens to its successor. 

Henry V – These final two hours plus of The Hollow Crown make some eponymous changes – from a subdued St. Crispin's Day moment and skipped battlefield carnage to omitted side plots and excised humor. While the music, costuming, Latin funerary, blue for France flair, and red for England palette are charming, the saturated screen is often too dark to see. Up close, congested, slow motion fighting also intentionally hides the small scale production, and at times oft theatre director Thea Sharrock seems to play it safe by not fully utilizing the camera or making any political or warfare statements as this material is ripe to do. The action is also slow to start, with almost twenty minutes of courtiers chirping the pros and cons in each king's ears about Edward the Black Prince and claims upon France before the build to Agincourt and a final romantic but short lived French alliance. The ensemble does well, but the new players aren't properly introduced, creating little endearment beyond the Harry we know and love. The now top billed Tom Hiddleston looks different as Henry V, aged with a goatee, darker hair, and in the field grit. Although he's not an over the top big battle commander, Hiddleston has a gravitas both with words and on horseback. Harry can be personal, soft spoken, and religious whilst also not backing down from leading from the front despite internal fears, lovely prayers, and serious soliloquies. This king is humble and in arms with his men, honest and full of grace but certainly capable of the bombastic and unmerciful. The private battle speeches fit this characterization and keep the focus on the individual before the spectacle as a good play should. Shakespeare perhaps glorified the past but this Henry is a man first and a hero second. This episode wisely stays with Henry most of the time, reducing Pistol, Nym, Bardolph and unnecessary humor. Lambert Wilson (Timeline) is comparatively somber as the King of France, and despite only a few scenes, Melanie Thierry (Babylon A.D.) is immediately enchanting in what could be an awkward courtship. The French lessons are not translated on screen, which may annoy some, however this softened, continental appeal adds to the stage-like mood where Sharrock directs best. I hate to say it as it would be inaccurate to not have the imaginative, descriptive Chorus as narrated by John Hurt (Alien), but if you can see the ships and scenery, you don't need the voiceover, and the characters could have just said the transitions themselves. Fortunately, the script is the thing here, with famous lines and history turned drama discussed in several behind the scenes bonus features. Granted there are production flaws and questionable direction at times. However, this is a great, easy to get behind story, and the condensed plots and reduce battle focus make for a classroom friendly viewing or scholarly discussion.