Gunpowder: Episode 3

"I mean to die!"

So here we are at the finale, a somewhat tricky episode dramatically as we all know how it ends.The answer to this conundrum is, of course, to make it all about character. So again we get the contrast between Catesby and Cecil, although this time with very contrasting fates. Once again Liv Tyler's Lady Vaux acts as the conscience, perhaps even the chorus, but her role seems disappointingly passive throughout, and she's the nearest we get to a significant female character. But I suppose the nature of things in 1605 makes that difficult.

Much of the episode plays out the asymmetrically contrasting plottings of the doomed Catesby and the puppetmaster Cecil, leading to Catesby's inevitable doom and Cecil's inevitable elevation, and it's gripping enough to entertain despite the fact that we all know full well that Fawkes will be caught red-handed.

More interesting is the inevitable martyrdom of Father Garnett, whose tortuous death has been inevitable ever since he declared himself a coward last episode. Fawkes, though, comes across (deliberately, I'm sure) as an extremely weird individual, and even during his horrible torture it's less easy to feel sympathy. There's a lot of torture in this episode. There's a lot of torture throughout.

It's a decent little series, though; historical drama by numbers but sumptuously done as the BBC always do. It's just that, well, it doesn't really do anything new.

Gunpowder: Episode 2

“Kings are anointed by God!"

And so we come to the middle episode of three, linking the first episode and finale with lots of narrative and exposition and traditionally the weak link. I don't actually think that this is the case here though; after the exposition and shock therapy of the first episode we get to the fun of watching Catesby and Cecil move their chess pieces around, trying to outwit each other.

Much as Cecil is the cleverer and more evil of the two, Catesby's visit to Spain has him witness a poor Jewish lady be burned at the stake by the Spanish Inquisition who, for all their famed judicial due process, were obviously complete bastards. Catesby, though, is shown to be complicit. It literally sickens him but he doesn't complain, which reminds us that, wronged though he is, he'd be just as intolerant if his lot were in charge, even if he doesn't sit there like Mark Gatiss' delightfully evil Cecil and personally direct the torture. It's 1605 and religious tolerance hasn't been invented; everybody thinks they're right and everyone else is a heretic. people just weren't awfully good at not torturing people of different religions back then. This adds much-needed balance to the first episode, which seems less polemical in retrospect and has risen in my estimation.

But then the script goes to great lengths to emphasis the parallels between Catesby and Gatiss, with both of them given similar-sounding confessions as to how they neglect their sons. But Catesby's plotting has an air of doomed desperation while Cecil always seems assured, even when out-maneouvred by the splendidly-moustacho'd Constable of Castile and temporarily out of favour with a King James who wants to have his cake and eat it in much the same way as our current leader..

Liv Tyler comes to the fore as Lady Vaux reveals herself as the sharp-tongued Catholic moral conscience of the gentry, and we have the interesting little sub-plot on whether or not Father Garnett is a coward for not risking his own life. Knowing how TV dramas work, I fear that martyrdom may beckon for him next week, much as it appesrs to beckon for Father Gerard who is rather nastily tortured before he seems to escape in a somewhat confusing ending. Still, it's all very good this week.

Gunpowder: Episode 1

"Would you rather that I conform?"

Well. That was well-acted, well-directed and... violent. It's entertaining, historical religious persecution was indeed wrong but, well, it feels somewhat jarring for a historical drama to be so... polemical.

We begin with some text intro telling us that it's 1603, Elizabeth I has just copped it and King James VI of Scotland has gained a second throne and a chance to shag his way through the pretty young men of the English aristocracy, although not in many words. There are some nice shots of the Queen looking on in her stoic Scandinavian way while James flirts with his latest boy tart.

Then the story proper starts as a mass is disrupted by agents of an intolerant state and, with practised efficiency, a whole panoply of priest holes and mattress turning springs into action, and there follows a brilliantly tense scene in which the scarily young boy priest is arrested, and the very brave Lady Dorothy takes the flack as a furious, sword-waving Robert Catesby looks on furiously, and we know he's important because we know our history and we've seen Game of Thrones.

So, after being introduced to the sinister Robert Cecil- scion of the Marquesses of Salisbury, don't you know, and archetypal spymaster- we can only conclude that he could be played by absolutely no one other than Mark Gatiss, who has himself a minor bit of typecasting as sinister eminences grises in historical dramas but wears so many hats in the TV world that he can afford to be utterly unbothered. He is, of course, perfect casting. And we see him slowly manipulating the relatively tolerant James into supporting his sinister agenda.

And then comes the really nasty bit; Lady Dorothy has refused to plead- a guilty plea would disinherit her children- so she is stripped naked and publicly pressed to death. This is closely followed by the hanging, drawing and quartering of the boy priest, as graphic as these things get although at least we don't see the castration. This is all, of course, quite realistic, but an artistic choice has been made to dwell on the gory details. I'm not going to go all in and join the chorus of complaint here, but this is quite blatant in its didacticism, and that can be self-defeating in a drama.

More spying, skulduggery and misfortune for the persecuted Catesby brings us towards the end, and Guy Fawkes. Let's see where this goes.

Lady Chatterley's Lover

"She's a servant. It's not as if she's a person."

That's how you do it. Unlike the recent The Scandalous Lady W this is a perfect example of how to do an adaptation of a classic novel in a time slot of only ninety minutes without sacrificing any thematic depth or characterisation.

A confession first, though: I've read a fair bit of D.H. Lawrence- even The Plumed Serpent- but not Lady Chatterley's Lover. It isn't known as one of his best, and it's generally better known for the 1961 obscenity trial than as an actual novel. So I'm experiencing the characters and plot here for the first time. I'm rather impressed. 

The earlier scenes, setting up Constance and Sir Clifford's relationship, his injury in the trenches and subsequent emasculation, and their gradual growing apart, are done with an admirable economy of storytelling while still making time for subtle character moments. We slip into Mellors' POV as we meet him, get to know him and see his being emotes as gatekeeper, his relationship with Constance being spiky at first. Their early scenes together are full of chicks, flowers, and other obvious fertility symbols, which is very D.H. Lawrence.

The story of their affair doesn't quite go as expected, though. Her chat with her sister is revealing; what is shocking is not that she has taken a lover- this is more or less expected in this situation, upper class mores being what they are- but that said lover is a commoner. For the characters, the controversy here is all about class, not sex. This is underlined by Sir Clifford's clumsy attempt to get a friend- the "right sort", naturally, to father a child with her, more or less confirming that privileged upper class women were more or less expected to be brood mares. Patriarchy looms largest when families have money and stuff to pass down. Feminism, too, is a class issue.

I've no idea how much has been expunged from the novel, but I was rather impressed by this.