The Sandman: Lost Hearts

 "It was a pleasure being human with you."

It is, perhaps, true, that the second half of this first season, adapting The Doll's House from the comics, while very good, has not quite matched what came before it. Yet this conclusion, season finale, really, though there isa coda to come, is nothing short of magnificent.

This is the stuff of fairytale. Dream's punishment of the collectors is grimly appropriate. His ultimate triuph over the Corinthian- whose eyes we finally see- has an air of inevitability once he persuades Rose. And Unity's dreamingly reading of the book of her life that would have been, in Lucienne's library, is not only poetic but utterly prefigures her beautiful sacrifice to save Rose, her family.

And Rose has lots of family. Her brother, yes, but also a family she chose. And they all live happily ever after. Even the ending of Fiddler's Green- a lovely man, and perfectly cast as Stephen Fry- is something lovelier than death. It's all very beautiful.

Yet it was all a trick by Desire, to get Dream to kill Desire's own granddaughter(!) and, it is hinted, trick him into breaking some rule by killing a descendent of the Endless. And it is hinted that the sublings fall into two opposing camps- Dream, Death and Destiny versus Desire, Despair and Delirium. Interesting.

Oh, and it appears Hell is going to war....

The Sandman: The Doll's House

 "It's trerrible. We know."

Watching this episode brought back long- repressed and surprisingly vivid memories of the comic book. It was, again, much more faithful than one might expect. Yet it didn't quite manage, despite being very good indeed and extremely well made, to quite match the source material. Of course, I wouldn't have noticed this had I not read the story in its original medium, but it was my impression nonetheless.

Still, this is very good telly. We start with Desire and Despair, very odd twins, inferring that they are behind much has gone wrong, but then we turn to the tale of Rose, bereaved and charismatic, as she searches for her long-lost little brother with her equally bereaved surrogate mother (loved the sudden revelation she'd been talking to her dead husband), and travels to London to find a great grandmother... who is still alive despite falling asleep in 1916 when Dream was captured, aged 12. Yeah. This made sense in 1989, but these days it's best not looked at so closely.

Loved the serial killer convention committee, attracting the attention of the Corinthian. Loved Stephen Fry as Gilbert. Loved the whole Florida family. In fact, I loved the characters, the narrative and the whole damn thing. It's just that, somehow, the comic was more poetic.

The Sandman: The Sound of Her Wings

 "That's all there is, little one. That's all you get."

Yes, that scene... I'm a parent and it shook me deeply. I'm so glad they cut away before the mother's discovery of what had happened. But that's the point; death is taboo, and this episode faces it. The first half, covering the comic book issue of the same name, is actually almost entirely faithful to an original which can't really be improved upon. Kirby Howell-Baptiste, while not a goth, is perfect as Neil Gaiman's death: a lovely, caring person who finds meaning in easaing people's transition to the "Sunless Lands".

And that's the point; the Endless exist to fulfil their function. They are not gods, however aloof and arrogant they may seem. They are our servants, not our masters. And Dream, depressed after his recent triumph, gets a much-needed lesson from his very lovely older sister.

And then, after twenty minutes, we get to a faithful retelling of the tale of Hob Gedling, a man who is, essentially, seen to be cheerfully indisting, in a pub, that he will never die. As a resident of small town Leicestershire I could mardily point out that only in London, in pubs frequented by the likes of Chaucer, Marlowe and Shakespeare, do passing gods happen to grant immortality to ordinary blokes out of mere philosphical curiosity. But chips belong on plates, not on shoulders. And chips here in the provinces are both better and cheaper than in that London, of which I'm actually rather fond. Plus, I suppose, there are benefits to living in a part of the country where you can have an ordinary profession and yet own your own home. 

And perhaps two passing gods will do this for me sometime. I'm with Hob: life has its ups and downs; the downs are crushing. But life will always be rich and beautiful, and I will always want it.

So see you at the pub in 2122?