"You have been a great prime minister!"
And so we reach the rather gripping season finale, full of incident and excitement as we knew it would be, and an impressive piece of writing in drawing all the threads together.
We start with family. Leopold is at court to make amends to a cold reception, but Vicky becoming deathly ill, although at first leading to clashes between Victoria and Albert, brings the whole family together. Except that Victoria finishes up by letting Lezhen go. Not because Albert says so, but because Victoria has outgrown her, It's an emotional parting.
We also have romance between Mrs Skerrett and Mr Francatelli, and a heartbreaking moment where Ernest has to dump Harriet rather than propose to her because his syphilis symptoms have recurred. Never mind that none of this happened in real history; it's damn good telly.
But ultimately the focus is on Sir Robert Peel and his repeal of the Corn Laws, egged on (not always helpfully) by all the characters we like and opposed rather rudely by those we don't. It's a final triumph for Peel and, indeed, for Nigel Lindsay. You'd never guess from his excellent performances on Victoria that he was Barry in Four Lions.
But there's a final shock, the killing of Edward Drummond which somewhat ruins the already doomed relationship between him and Lord Alfred; sadly, this is narratively the only way of concluding a same sex budding romance set in this era without it taking up a lot of narrative time and focus, but I have to say that it isn't very brave writing. Still, it's a lovely touch seeing the Duchess of Buccleuch being so sympathetic to poor Lord Alfred. And at least Drummond gets to live three years longer than he did in real life.
Victoria may be somewhat easy telly and shy away, perhaps, from doing things other than predictably, but I'm glad a series like this exists and I'll bev watching at Christmas.
Showing posts with label David Oakes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label David Oakes. Show all posts
Friday, 27 October 2017
Thursday, 26 October 2017
Victoria: The King Over the Water
"You know, erm, I have some socks for you to darn..."
It's the quiet episode before the season finale, so time for slowness, lots of Highlands scenery and some ordinary life for Victoria and Albert for just one night. It's a chance for them to have fun as the loving, easy couple they are again after the problems of the recent past. Never mind the stress they cause to everyone else but, I suppose, it reminds us that all royalty lives in a goldfish bowl. And those poetry recitals don't look like much fun.
We also finally have Drummond and Lord Alfred realising the feelings they have for one another, while Harriet reconciles with Duke Ernest, who we know now probably has syphilis. It's not the most eventful episodes- that's not the point. Unfortunately it drags a bit but I suppose it's nice to see Victoria and Albert having so much fun. It's all very ominous for the finale though.
Beyond that, there's not much to say. I suppose, for filler, the episode is nicely done.
It's the quiet episode before the season finale, so time for slowness, lots of Highlands scenery and some ordinary life for Victoria and Albert for just one night. It's a chance for them to have fun as the loving, easy couple they are again after the problems of the recent past. Never mind the stress they cause to everyone else but, I suppose, it reminds us that all royalty lives in a goldfish bowl. And those poetry recitals don't look like much fun.
We also finally have Drummond and Lord Alfred realising the feelings they have for one another, while Harriet reconciles with Duke Ernest, who we know now probably has syphilis. It's not the most eventful episodes- that's not the point. Unfortunately it drags a bit but I suppose it's nice to see Victoria and Albert having so much fun. It's all very ominous for the finale though.
Beyond that, there's not much to say. I suppose, for filler, the episode is nicely done.
Victoria: Faith, Hope and Charity
"If I follow my conscience, I will destroy my party."
We knew it was coming; Victoria does the Irish Potato Famine, and it’s as devastating as you’d expect. This is not a normal episode, exactly; an unusual amount of time is devoted to the famine, and the character of Dr. Traill, a good man through whom we see both the unimaginable suffering and the equally unimaginable Malthusian bigotry that blames the “feckless” Irish poor for their own fate. It’s an outstanding piece of television, ending unusually with a caption telling us of Dr. Traill’s unfortunate fate.
Victoria herself cannot, of course, be seen to be anything other than deeply horrified, and much of the episode consists of her trying to persuade Sir Robert Peel to do something, which she finally seems to do- I suspect there’s a sprinkling of artistic licence here, but in opening the Pandora’s Box that is trade and tariffs, Peel will be scratching at the persistent itch that is the Corn Laws. I suspect they will loom large in the remaining episodes.
Elsewhere, we discover that Ernest has syphilis, and may have aff Fred his sexual partners, including the newly widowed Duchess of Sutherland. And kindly Albert makes a loo for the servants. But Ireland, of course, overshadows everything in what is an extraordinary episode.
We knew it was coming; Victoria does the Irish Potato Famine, and it’s as devastating as you’d expect. This is not a normal episode, exactly; an unusual amount of time is devoted to the famine, and the character of Dr. Traill, a good man through whom we see both the unimaginable suffering and the equally unimaginable Malthusian bigotry that blames the “feckless” Irish poor for their own fate. It’s an outstanding piece of television, ending unusually with a caption telling us of Dr. Traill’s unfortunate fate.
Victoria herself cannot, of course, be seen to be anything other than deeply horrified, and much of the episode consists of her trying to persuade Sir Robert Peel to do something, which she finally seems to do- I suspect there’s a sprinkling of artistic licence here, but in opening the Pandora’s Box that is trade and tariffs, Peel will be scratching at the persistent itch that is the Corn Laws. I suspect they will loom large in the remaining episodes.
Elsewhere, we discover that Ernest has syphilis, and may have aff Fred his sexual partners, including the newly widowed Duchess of Sutherland. And kindly Albert makes a loo for the servants. But Ireland, of course, overshadows everything in what is an extraordinary episode.
Wednesday, 25 October 2017
Victoria: Entente Cordiale
"It is a place of artifice and deceit!"
So Victoria and her entourage are off to Paris and its predictably more fashionable court under a diplomatic pretext, and we meet the wily and somewhat precarious Louis Philippe, King of the French, a self-made monarch who has actually, heaven forbid, once had to work for a living. He's a fascinating character with a unique background and hidden depths- and, of course, after the 1848 revolution he would end his life once again teaching in the UK. But that's the future.
The narrative point of this is, of course, for the characters to react to the French court. So Victoria feels a little self-conscious of her style, while the Duchess of Buccleuch is the xenophobic comic relief. But Albert, especially with the sight of his brother's cavorting, is still affected by last episode's revelations and has gone quite alarmingly puritanical. This is, of course, the precursor to his telling Victoria everything; he never could keep a secret. And her reaction is, of course, wonderful. Albert is a very lucky man to have a wife like her; this is superb writing of character.
We see the eating of ortalan, something which may please the late President Mitterand but is not exactly ethical treatment of birds. Miss Coke begins to see that Ernest is that into her, and is not exactly monogamous. But we end on a bit of a cliffhanger: Victoria is pregnant again...
So Victoria and her entourage are off to Paris and its predictably more fashionable court under a diplomatic pretext, and we meet the wily and somewhat precarious Louis Philippe, King of the French, a self-made monarch who has actually, heaven forbid, once had to work for a living. He's a fascinating character with a unique background and hidden depths- and, of course, after the 1848 revolution he would end his life once again teaching in the UK. But that's the future.
The narrative point of this is, of course, for the characters to react to the French court. So Victoria feels a little self-conscious of her style, while the Duchess of Buccleuch is the xenophobic comic relief. But Albert, especially with the sight of his brother's cavorting, is still affected by last episode's revelations and has gone quite alarmingly puritanical. This is, of course, the precursor to his telling Victoria everything; he never could keep a secret. And her reaction is, of course, wonderful. Albert is a very lucky man to have a wife like her; this is superb writing of character.
We see the eating of ortalan, something which may please the late President Mitterand but is not exactly ethical treatment of birds. Miss Coke begins to see that Ernest is that into her, and is not exactly monogamous. But we end on a bit of a cliffhanger: Victoria is pregnant again...
Tuesday, 24 October 2017
Victoria: The Sins of the Father
"At least Ernst knows who his father is!"
So Victoria gives birth, rather painfully, and his father announces that "we have a Prince of Wales" in a rather excellent episode which is all about fatherhood and paternity. This is made immediately obvious not far in, as Albert's father pops his clogs and he has to be off to Coburg.
But the episode is also, of course, all about what no one in the 1840s would call post-natal depression; Victoria struggles to bond with little Prince Bertie, and is clearly profoundly depressed, something which no one- certainly not the men- seems to even acknowledge as a thing. It's only towards the end that formidable old battleaxe the Duchess of Buccleuch finally reveals that she also suffered from it in her past, unexpectedly bonding a little with Victoria.
But the big bombshell is when Albert learns that Leopold slept with his mother, meaning he may be Albert's father, something which disgusts him. This terrible secret sends him into despair to the point that he even gets drunk for the first time. His entire identity, it seems, and the very legitimacy of his children with Victoria, may be a lie. Still, this turns out to be good news for Mrs Skerrit, who in a neat bit of plotting manages to avoid being dismissed because of this. It's another impressively written episode.
So Victoria gives birth, rather painfully, and his father announces that "we have a Prince of Wales" in a rather excellent episode which is all about fatherhood and paternity. This is made immediately obvious not far in, as Albert's father pops his clogs and he has to be off to Coburg.
But the episode is also, of course, all about what no one in the 1840s would call post-natal depression; Victoria struggles to bond with little Prince Bertie, and is clearly profoundly depressed, something which no one- certainly not the men- seems to even acknowledge as a thing. It's only towards the end that formidable old battleaxe the Duchess of Buccleuch finally reveals that she also suffered from it in her past, unexpectedly bonding a little with Victoria.
But the big bombshell is when Albert learns that Leopold slept with his mother, meaning he may be Albert's father, something which disgusts him. This terrible secret sends him into despair to the point that he even gets drunk for the first time. His entire identity, it seems, and the very legitimacy of his children with Victoria, may be a lie. Still, this turns out to be good news for Mrs Skerrit, who in a neat bit of plotting manages to avoid being dismissed because of this. It's another impressively written episode.
Monday, 3 October 2016
Victoria: The Queen's Husband
"Ten times?"
Vicky is married, very much enjoying the bedtime activities that come with that, but rather concerned to avoid children for the time being. Abstinence is, of course, not an option, but the only options for contraception that she's made aware of are somewhat, er, Victorian.
Meanwhile, continuing Tory wariness towards Vicky manifests itself at dinner; it is not Albert but one of Vicky's uncles who must escort her every evening. Yet Vicky soon deploys her Machiavellian wiles to engineer a victory here, while Albert begins to find a role in supporting those causes that the Sovereign cannot, making a well-received speech against slavery. The history is very logically turned into a narrative structure that works, but leaves us in no doubt that the problem of Albert's role is only partially solved. He is an intelligent man, not an ornament.
Meanwhile, Miss Skerrit discovers that Francatelli's liking for her may be less creepy than she'd assumed; he risks his life to help her relatives and all he want in return is her first name this, I begin to suspect, may be a budding romance "downstairs" to balance out the events "upstairs"; ordinary people matter too.
Vicky is married, very much enjoying the bedtime activities that come with that, but rather concerned to avoid children for the time being. Abstinence is, of course, not an option, but the only options for contraception that she's made aware of are somewhat, er, Victorian.
Meanwhile, continuing Tory wariness towards Vicky manifests itself at dinner; it is not Albert but one of Vicky's uncles who must escort her every evening. Yet Vicky soon deploys her Machiavellian wiles to engineer a victory here, while Albert begins to find a role in supporting those causes that the Sovereign cannot, making a well-received speech against slavery. The history is very logically turned into a narrative structure that works, but leaves us in no doubt that the problem of Albert's role is only partially solved. He is an intelligent man, not an ornament.
Meanwhile, Miss Skerrit discovers that Francatelli's liking for her may be less creepy than she'd assumed; he risks his life to help her relatives and all he want in return is her first name this, I begin to suspect, may be a budding romance "downstairs" to balance out the events "upstairs"; ordinary people matter too.
Tuesday, 27 September 2016
Victoria: An Ordinary Woman
"We've been replaced, Lord Melbourne."
"That's as it should be."
Getting hitched is, sadly, always a political act for a monarch, especially if one's spouse is a German prince. What should his title be? Certainly not "King Consort" says the House of Commons. What should his allowance be? Not as much as the amount King Leopold I of Belgium is getting, says Sir Robert Peel. And what, in fact, should he do as opposed to be? All of this is gendered, of course; none of these issues would be so vexed for a female consort to a king with her uncomplicated title of "queen". Here, in Victoria and Albert, we have a situation where the male appears to be oppressed somewhat by the patriarchy.
Albert is, of course, a clever and principled man; he needs to define a role beyond shagging the queen. He needs an income of his own. Vicky, meanwhile, is anxious lest he find himself a mistress as her uncles tend to do. And the Duke of Wellington makes mischievous Tory noises asking how we can be sure that Albert isn't (shock horror) a Catholic.
Still, it's cute that Albert makes use of a prostitute before the wedding, but only to ask her for sex tips. The couple are, in the end, married, and we end with a discreet sex scene, although not before Vicky says goodbye to her faithful Lord M. Another well-produced if stylistically conventional episode of period drama.
"That's as it should be."
Getting hitched is, sadly, always a political act for a monarch, especially if one's spouse is a German prince. What should his title be? Certainly not "King Consort" says the House of Commons. What should his allowance be? Not as much as the amount King Leopold I of Belgium is getting, says Sir Robert Peel. And what, in fact, should he do as opposed to be? All of this is gendered, of course; none of these issues would be so vexed for a female consort to a king with her uncomplicated title of "queen". Here, in Victoria and Albert, we have a situation where the male appears to be oppressed somewhat by the patriarchy.
Albert is, of course, a clever and principled man; he needs to define a role beyond shagging the queen. He needs an income of his own. Vicky, meanwhile, is anxious lest he find himself a mistress as her uncles tend to do. And the Duke of Wellington makes mischievous Tory noises asking how we can be sure that Albert isn't (shock horror) a Catholic.
Still, it's cute that Albert makes use of a prostitute before the wedding, but only to ask her for sex tips. The couple are, in the end, married, and we end with a discreet sex scene, although not before Vicky says goodbye to her faithful Lord M. Another well-produced if stylistically conventional episode of period drama.
Wednesday, 14 September 2016
Victoria: The Clockwork Prince
"I do not need you to tell me what to think, Albert."
"No, Lord Melbourne does."
This is the one in which Albert woos Vicky and then, being queen, she proposes to him, patriarchy or no patriarchy. He's a bit stiff but decent, kind and sympathetic to the viewer, being shown to be very progressive, more so than Lord Melbourne; he appreciates the social commentary of that young Dickens chap.
It's nice to see the penny post being introduced, and Vicky's observation that anyone wanting to send any post must lick her face! We get allusions to the First Afghan War, too, and hints of parliamentary stuff, but it all takes a back seat to Albert.
Miss Skerritt, meanwhile, comes through a test of her honesty that introduces us to her impecunious sister and niece and hints yet more at a very tough background, far from Victoria's. This sort of thing is necessary to provide a context, of course; ordinary people matter a damn sight more than royalty.
This episode may be relatively light on theme, being about a wooing and such forth, but the series continues to be superbly written, shot and acted.
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