Wolf Hall- The Mirror and the Light: Jenneke

 "You're going to bring them down? The oldest and richest familes in the land?"

"Like skittles!"

It's redundant, by now, for me to point out that any given episode of Wolf Hall, this one most certainly included, is a televisual masterpiece. But I seem to have done so anyway. Yes, big things are happening- the birth of a son for the king, the tragic, negligent death of Jane, the peace between King Francis and Charles V and the dangers posed to England. And yet this series ais about Thomas Cromwell, and this is where his position starts to slip.

Oh, he finds happiness in Jenneke, the lovely daughter of whom he's just learned... yet he is loving, good, tender and fatherly, a good man. In stark contrast to the things which Dorothea said to him, things that have truly shaken to him and, as we often see, haunt his nightmares. He doubts himself, wonders if he betrayed Wolsey after all, knowingly or not, and confesses himself "undone".

Jane's death upsets him deeply, more so than his tyrant king, play-acting at mourning. And Stephen Gardiner is back, with the ear of the king, pushing him against "heresy". Cromwell, baring his soul to Archbishop Cranmer, begins to despair that all he's done to bring Protestantism to England may perhaps be for naught. And Gardiner (Alex Jennings a worthy successor to Mark Gatiss) is an insidious foe, one in the ascendant.

He is getting nowhere with the Poles. He clashes with the Duke of Norfolk, ironically in defence of Wolsey and the old ways. His influence with Mary is diminished. 

All hope rests in an alliance with the German princes, and a new bride from Cleves. We know the history here, of course. Yet this episode gives us a much deeper context in which Cromwell is already losing ground.

As Cromwell's vaunted ambassador to Charles V, Thomas Wyatt, would say... circa regna tonat.

Wolf Hall- The Mirror and the Light: Defiance

 "In the north parts, they use your name to terrify their children..."

Oh my. There's soooo much going on here. Yet the overall trajectory is clear: Henry's court is always a place of peril, both geographically and conceptually, and for Cromwell, this may be the beginning of his slow end.

For the king, he keeps failing to get Reginald Pole. Those rumours about him wanting to marry the Lady Mary just won't go away. And the schemes he is forced to use, because of the king, are beginning to affect others' opinions of him. Most obviously, the Lincolnshire rebels, who see him as a literal antichrist... but there is mistrust and misunderstanding everywhere. The ending of last episode sort of broke Cromwell emotionally, and suddenly he is alive to how he is seen.

Those jibes from Lady Rochford (possibly my favourite character) hit harder. Bess mistakenly believes she is to marry the father, not the son, and even Gregory suspects Thomas of designs on his wife. Ouch.

The King continues to be scary and volatile. Chapuys continues to be a fun character, the ultimate player of ten dimensional chess. But the atmosphere is, if such a thing were possible, all the more dangerous. Even Jane, in the things she begs for, risks angering the king. If she were not with child, well... it's clear that her reputation as Henry's favourite wife owes not to any real affection on his part but what she gave him in her death. Poor woman. But I get ahead of myself.

We end with a bombshell: Cromwell has an illegitimate daughter. Yet the peril seems so much more...

Superlative telly. As if it needed saying.

Wolf Hall- The Mirror and the Light: Obedience

 "I created him..."

And the second episode turns out to be even better than the first, which is saying a lot. In fact, let us not mince words: yes, it looks fantastic and the acting is first rate. But this is an absolute masterpiece of televisual scriptwriting- and makes it clear that I need to read the original novels as it seems likely that Hilary Mantel may indeed be a genius.

This is a masterpiece of form and feeling. In showing us the deadly danger of Henry's court, where anyone can sudenly be judicially murdered at the whim of a capricious tyrant, we have a series of examples. Firstly, there is Lady Margaret and her affair and, indeed, marriage (without the king's permission) to Thomas, one of the younger, pooer Howards. Meg is soon made by Cromwell and her friend, in an extraordinary scene, to realise just how much trouble she's in... but Thomas stands to lose everything.

For this is a world in which it is treason to imagine the death of the king. To marry the king's niece is to maneouvre oneself closer to the throne, and this smacks of dangerous ambition.

Yet soon Cromwell himself faces the same danger, as absurd yet potentially damaging rumours start to spead of his wishing to marry the Lady Mary. The aggression with which he treats Chapuys here leaves us in no doubt that he realises fully the dangers of his situation.

And then we have poor Jane Seymour, having to endure the sexual attentions of that bloated, smelly man. She confesses to not enjoying said attentions, and worries that, without taking sexual pleasure, she will not conceive a son. What lies unspoken, horribly, is that, without a son, she will be yet another Anne Boleyn, fated for the block.

Finally, we have the devastating conclusion, as Cromwell shakily says all the wrong things to Wolsey's daughter, slowly realising exactly how he is seen... and may have been seen, at the end, by his beloved Wolsey himself.

Oh, the things one must sacrifice for the king. And he will always demand more and more...

Wolf Hall- The Mirror and the Light: Wreckage

 "I do not understand you, Cromwell. Why are you not afraid? You should be afraid."

It's been... yeah, many, many years. Use the search function if you'd like to see my reviews of the earlier series, adapting Hilary Mantel's first two novels- I did; I certainly needed my memory refreshing. So much life has happened for me since then....

This first episode is extraordinarily powerful. Story, stript, acting, look, direction- all are superb in depicting the sheer peril of politics where the tyrant at the centre of it all is a highly intelligent, scarily volatile and utterly caprucious monster such as Henry VIII, a tyrant of truly terrifying proportions.

As per The Private Life of Henry VIII, a film which, oddly enough, I saw only weeks ago, we begin with the horrifying juxtaposition of Anne Boleyn walking to the scaffold as Henry prepares to marry Jane Seymour the same day. This sequence alone, beautifully shot, says everything. Horrifyingly, Anne keeps looking up, to the windows of the Tower, imagining that there may be hope...

Yet much of the episode concerns the fascinating and deadly games of power. Cromwell may be at the centte of all yet, as Chapuys amusedly pointds out, he is utterly dependent on the King, with no one to save him should he falter. No wonder he is carefully writing a book on how to handle the King.

The King, at this point, seems even worse than before, seemingly contemplating the execution of his own daughter for refusing to sign the oath, yet turning on a sixpence at the end to embrace his cowed child. As for Cromwell himself... he plays such a dangerous game. At one point, when Henry seems to turn fully against Mary, he himself even acknowledges that things certainly appear bleak.

I'm going to enjoy this series so very much- telly at its best.

The Crown: Season 1, Episode 4- Act of God

"Be careful out there. It's a real pea-souper!"

This episode is interesting in that it deals with the great smog crisis of 1952, where a mixture of weather and pollution caused 10,000 deaths and the elderly Churchill, interested only in foreign policy, showed no more ntetest until his job was seen to be in peril; this isn't widely know today, much like Churchill's second ministry as a whole.

In other news Phil takes flying lessons with the man who's shagging his sister-in-law- Elizabeth manages to get Churchill to agree to this as a quid pro quo- and Queen Mary is dying. This shouldn't be surprising; after all, she was born in 1867, the year of the Great Reform Act and the Ausgleich, but for Elizabeth it's a race against time to speak as much as she can with the person who seems to have formed her ideological view of monarchy.

We get to know Clem Attlee a little in this episode, no longer prime minister yet, next to Churchill, seeming to be relatively young. And, most heartbreakingly, Venetia develops her hero-worshipping crush on Churchill to a peak, only to be killed by a traffic accident in the smog. So that's why the character has been so heavily emphasised.

Interesting that Elizabeth's view of monarchy is extremely conservative, an updating of the Divine Right of Kings to the context of parliamentary democracy, whereas Philip is much more modern, believing in such radical concepts as the separation of church and state. It's inter sting, too, that the constitutional question of whether she is able to sack Churchill on grounds of age and irrelevanc is never really resolved in theory; even Tommy Lascelles leaves the question open. Only Queen Mary is there to give a firm answer, and she won't be there for long.

More fascinating, cerebral stuff that avoids Daily Mail-style fawning in favour of ideas and characters. This is good telly.

The Crown: Season 1, Episode 1- Wolverton Splash

"I've signed myself away."

"Or won the greatest prize on Earth."

Yes, I know: yet another TV series on the go and so very many plates spinning. I eventually finish them all, you know me! Everything will be followed to its conclusion at some point. Well, perhaps not Detectorists...

Anyway, let's turn to The Crown, a new-ish (I'm slightly behind the curve, as usual) Netflix drama which has gleaned quite a lot of critical acclaim and stars Claire Foy as a young Queen Elizabeth II from the time when a pubescent Paul McCartney used to perv over her and Matt Smith as everybody's favourite casual racist, Phil. Both are rather good. The script takes an interesting tack, though: the era depicted is staid, with rationing, pre-'60s stultifying puritanism and a truly crap popular culture, but the script plays against this. King George VI in his first scene- which shows just how mollycoddled by servants monarchs are,-drops the C bomb quite casually. That's an interesting choice and drops a hint that this programme may be a little interesting to someone like me who isn't exactly an ardent royalist.

(There. I've said it; not really a royalist. That isn't to say that I want a republic right now- I don't think our age has the appropriate regard for constitutional propriety or civil liberties for such major constitutional surgery and I think we should carry on, ideally with some Scandinavian-style reform, with some kind of constitutional monarchy. But if you were making a new country from scratch then of course you'd have some kind of republic and it's silly to pretend otherwise.)

But perhaps the most interesting piece of casting is John Lithgow (the baddie from Santa Claus: The Movie!!!) as Winston Churchill. He's far from obvious until you see his extraordinary performance which strikes that difficult yet perfect balance between impression and performance. Ben Miles is good too as  royal equerry Peter Townsend, so very proper as he secretly shags Princess Margaret.

Anyway, Phil and Lilibet are getting married. It's all very grand, especially for the austere 1947. She says "obey", which raises eyebrows. The Tories "win" the 1951 election, and Churchill gets to recycle his famous line about Attlee and the empty taxi. But this episode is essentially about the warm relationship between Lilibet and Phil, his difficulty- '50s gender roles being what they are- in adjusting from naval life to the life of a royal "wife", and how the  news of the King's cancer is so slowly kept from him but how, in spite of the denial and the stiff upper lips, it's killing him.

This is actually rather good.