Why Didn't They Ask Evans?: Episode Three

 "Well, this is a pickle."

"Just a bit."

In the week where Ncuti Gatwa was announced as the new Doctor Who (he'll be great; Sex Education shows he has charisma as well as serious acting chops in both comedy and tragedy, of which Aristotle would have approved. Say no more.), I have to say that the winderful and very sexy Lucy Boyton as the delightfully clever and delectable Lady Frankie is basically the Doctor, thirty years earlier. Also, every man loves a girl who is posh and witty.

Anyway, much as modern editing is less clear in terms of storytelling than earlier decades, this episode of a well-helmed serial from Hugh Laurie himself manages to be clever and well-helmed, putting its two leads in peril and following through a devilishly clever conundrum. The happy wedding at the end is earned.

This is, it must be said, gentre television. But it is, on the whole, well done, and Lucy Boynton is a revelation. This isn't great telly, but it's bloody good.

Why Didn't They Ask Evans?- Episode Two

 "We have to have blood. Blood is of the essence."

I havew no idea wha's going on, butb I'm loving this. This is Agatha Christie done right- Bob fumbling after the truth, Frankie being rather more successful but in sexy outfits to boot- with a compelling mystery that seem to become less and less clear even as Hugh Laurie reveals himself as the dreaded and much heralded shrink whom everyone fears. This is all very between-the-wars and Freudian with its body horror fears of electric shock treatment. This is not what one expects of Christie.

This is superbly shot, acted, written, The confusions is palpable. It's a bug, not a feature. There seems to be authorial criticism of shock treatment, which is a very good thing. The plot is fast-paced, intriguing, and mostly driven by the charismatic performance of Lucy Boynton as Frankie. The characters are fascinating, the mystery multi-faceted, the cliffhanger exciting.

I tentatively think the vicar might have done it…?

Why Didn't They Ask Evans?- Episode One

 "Do you have any balls?"

This is an interesting concept for what is the first original BritBox series I've blogged or, indeed, watched. Directed by Hugh Laurie, it looks amazing, with some very gorgeous direction of the Denbighshire coast. I like also how it immediately diagnoses and addresses the main problem wth Agatha Christie (look, no Poirot!) in her snobbery. This is addressed directly in making it clear that Frankie (Lady Frances) clearly cares not a lot about the relative inferiority of the clever but struggling vicar's son (Bob) she fancies. Yes, Bob himself is no horny handed son of toil, but the wider question is nicely addressed by the character of Dr Jones, a Welshman of very ordinary origins who os neveryheless treated as intelligent, wise, and very much to be respected.

This is an intriguing mystery, based on the intriguing mystery of a man falling from a Denbighshire cliff with the intriguing words "Why didn't they  ask Evans? with some intriguing items in his office. It's also an exploration of the seemingly wonderful Frankie- beautiful, incredibly witty, which we men find VERY sexy, and determinedly unsnobbish.

The mystery is intriguing. But so is the nuanced father/son relationship between Bob and his well-meaning vicar father Richard. So is the delightful romance between the lovely Frankie, more innocent than her wit implies, than him. I'm very intrigued, and this is tantalising stuff.

The Crown: Season 2, Episode 3- Lisbon

“One always has to accept one’s own part, I believe, in any mess.”

This is a very cleverly structured episode, both in itself and as part of the season. We return, of course, to the Lisbon flash forward where the season began, whet the two plot threads- Eden’s resignation and the climax of the Parker divorce case revelation in the media and the confrontation between Elizabeth and Philip. It’s masterfully done: the train steaming inexorably towards Sandringham for Eden to suffer his drive of shame before resigning is also a symbol of what awaits Philip.

Yet Elizabeth remains, somehow, constitutionally above it all. Eden may try to rationalise things to himself, and to claim that he’s resigning from ill health and not because he’s just been- to use an anachronism- Thatchered by his Cabinet. Macmillan may try and downplay his past support for the Suez misadventure, but the Queen is not unaware. And nor is she unaware of the underlying reasons for Philip’s “restlessness”- again, the question of his possible adultery is left open- or, indeed, unfeeling, whatever the stiff upper lip exterior may show. Claire Foy is utterly sublime here.

The solution- upgrading Phil to a Prince and a crackdown on moustaches- seems unlikely to work. We shall see. Further kids are on the way, the less said about the first of them the better, but Mike is perceptive, in his parting chat with Phil, on the underlying tension between a monarch and their eldest son, who represents their personal extinction.

There is an awful lot going on here- echoes of the Iraq War, but one where the protests claim their scalp; Tommy Lascelles coming back from retirement for a crisis; the Queen and Eileen having a woman to woman talk. The obvious respect both PM’s have for Elizabeth- and her perceptive comments to Eden on how doing nothing is often the wisest course, but not one that may appeal to those wishing themselves to be great men. This is a clever, clever bit of telly.

The Crown: Season 2, Episode 2- A Company of Men

“Men are expected to indulge...”

This is a very, very courageous piece of telly and I’m surprised the subject matter didn’t arouse more controversy at the time. Again, Philip isn’t shown to have been having an affair during his five month tour of the Commonwealth (or indeed previously), but it is implied that he may have been a little naughty- as Eileen, Mike Parker’s disgruntled wife, tells us, the five month trip looks awfully like a very long stag night.

Meanwhile Elizabeth remains at home- calm, unflappable, far too stiff upper lip to allow her feelings to be visible- much as Sir Anthony Eden, humiliated by the Suez debacle, appears to be having a physical and mental breakdown as the drugs no longer work. But this is not an episode for geopolitics, much as Lord Mountbatten may scheme- he’s an interesting character.

But a large portion of the episode, expensive looking at that, is given over to Philip’s hi-jinks, interspersed with the odd speech and the occasional Olympics to open. There’s a very symbolic scene in which he rings Elizabeth from the other side of the world but the line is terrible- as ever, they aren’t communicating. But most fascinating is the journalist interviewing Philip in which we are reminded of his traumatic childhood, where revolution in Greece led to parental abandonment and breakdown- and the awkward fact of his Nazi sisters.

We finish with Philip having a long night of the soul, and a family reconciliation of sorts. But, as the start of last episode shows, there are still difficulties to come. The spiralling scandal of Mike and Eileen’s divorce threatens to expose Philip and the tension is palpable. This is good drama, although I’m glad we do t have those stupid lese-majeste laws they have in Thailand. And Matt Smith, in particular, is superb.

The Crown: Season 2, Episode 1- Misadventure

“A prison...?"

It's been years since I saw the first season so this is long overdue. In my defence, there's so much telly to see and blog. But I'm reminded, after this first episode of what I can hardly call the new season, that this is a bloody good programme. And both Claire Foy and Matt Smith excel as ever- as does Jeremy Northam as an increasingly tragic Sir Anthony Eden beneath the apparent patrician poise.

Foy is superb at conveying the deep yet necessarily restrained emotions of a Sovereign, not free to be a person, as her marriage seems to be falling apart, yet divorce is not an option and neither, it seems, is happiness. Monarchy is a gilded cage, and not a humane one. Yet Smith also successfully walks a tigtrope, remaining likeable as an emasculated yet childish paragon of toxic masculinity chafing at his traditionally feminine role and, it's implied, having affairs- although this, I suspect, will never be more than implied. I suspect the picture of a woman found by Elizabeth in his bag will have an innocent explanation, but there are definite hints at infidelity. Their marriage is in trouble.

But can royals ever be happy, or human? The institution is cruel. Look at Margaret, now a careless drunk after being denied happiness last season. Royalty means privilege, comfort and no freedom whatsoever. There are plenty of reminders here of the snobbery that surrounds it. Any debate on the monarchy would always be won by republicans as a no-brainer. And yet, what should we have instead? Do we, in populist 2020, trust our venal politicians with any major constitutional reform?

But the Establishment (a very '50s word) goes beyond this. We first see Eden addressing Eton, hia alma mater, as the sixteenth out of forty prime ministers to have been an Old Etonian. It reminds us that even the sensibly, centrist, Welfare State-supporting Tories of the Butskellite decades were still Tories and not, alas, Whigs, accepting change and reform only as far as they needed to survive.

This is a fascinating mix of themes, of the personal and the political, which are of course profoundly intermingled. Again, I'm hooked.

We see the Suez slowly unfolding in Egypt, to the concern of pretty much everyone, and scenes of the Canal being invaded by British and French troops are juxtaposed with Eden popping pills.