Dickens Bicentennial: The Mystery of Edwin Drood

John Jasper might be the most murderous choirmaster in English literature. We cannot be sure though, because Charles Dickens died before he could finish his final novel. What he left certainly led readers to suspect Jasper had nefariously dispatched his beloved nephew Ned Drood, known to rest of his acquaintances as Edwin. As part of their celebration of Dickens’ 200th birthday, PBS’s Masterpiece airs a new adaptation of the mystery-shrouded mystery, featuring a brand new ending that should please both Classic and Mystery viewers alike when The Mystery of Edwin Drood airs this coming Sunday (promo here).

Jasper is a haunted man, who seeks solace in London’s opium dens. He adores his nephew Drood, but harbors a dark and consuming love for the chap’s fiancée, Rosa Bud. Their engagement was negotiated by their late fathers and subsequently nurtured by their guardians, Jasper and solicitor Hiram Grewgious. It has been a convenient arrangement for Drood, freeing him up to think about other matters, but Bud is plagued by doubts. However, her prospective betrothal offers some protection against the unwanted attentions of her music teacher, John Jasper.

Events proceed on course, regardless of the hidden anxieties festering in the provincial cathedral village, until the arrival of the aptly named Landless twins, two Christian orphans from Ceylon, whose education is to be supervised by Jasper’s colleague, the Reverend Crisparkle. Suddenly, Bud has a confidant in Helena and Drood has a rival in Neville. Naturally, the two young men instantly clash. Yet, just when they have apparently buried the hatchet, Drood disappears under suspicious circumstances.

This is about the point in which Gwyneth Hughes shifts from screen-adapter to Dickens channeler. She shrewdly incorporates many of the clues dropped in the first act, but adds a whole mess of dark Drood family history that might be wholly original, but is certainly in keeping with the literary spirit of the time. She fits the third act revelations together quite convincingly, but she gives Mr. Tartar the hook, even though many Dickens scholars thought he was to factor prominently in the conclusion.

Jasper might have been one of the great Byronic anti-heroes in literature. He is often seen as a tragic, but strangely sympathetic figure, despite his ferocity. Indeed, Hughes eventually posits a backstory that helps explain his brooding nature. In a role previously filled by Claude Rains and Robert Powell, Welsh actor Matthew Rhys has a suitably dark, glowering look and presence, while still expressing all of Jasper’s doubts and self-loathing.

Conversely, the bland Freddie Fox’s Drood is a bit of a young twit, but that rather works in the dramatic context of Hughes’ adaptation. Tamzin Maerchant (of The Tudors) looks like an even younger and paler Jessica Chastain as Bud, but she handles the distressed heroine duties in a suitably Victorian manner. Rory Kinnear (Bond buddy Bill Tanner in 007 reboots) is particularly notable amid the supporting cast, expressing the fundamental Christian decency of Rev. Crisparkle in one of the more refreshingly positive television portrayals of a clergyman in recent years.

Director Diarmuid Lawrence wisely emphasizes the genre elements, heightening the mystery with evocative scenes of Jasper’s opiate-fueled hallucinations. A satisfying shot at completing the unfinished literary puzzle, the feature length Drood represents Masterpiece’s sixteenth Dickens production overall and a fitting way to observe the Dickens bicentenary this season. It airs this Sunday (4/15) on most PBS outlets nationwide.

Dickens Bicentennial: Great Expectations

Just in time for Charles Dickens’ 200th birthday, the BFI discovered what is thought to be the earliest Dickens silent film: G.A. Smith’s The Death of Poor Joe, circa 1901, depicting a brief scene from Oliver Twist. Over one hundred years later, the Dickens canon is still a source of inspiration for both cinema and television. PBS’s Masterpiece Classic celebrates the Dickens Centennial with two new (at least for American audiences) productions, starting this Sunday with Great Expectations (promo here).

Phillip Pirrip is simply known as Pip. It is not just a nickname. It will become his identity. As a young orphan, Pip encounters Abel Magwitch on the moors. Though terrified, the lad helps the escaped convict, at the risk of incurring his guardian older sister’s wrath. Shortly after Magwitch’s capture, Pip is enlisted to serve as the companion to Estella Havisham, the adopted daughter of Miss Havisham, a mysterious spinster with a tragic past.

His trips to Miss Havisham’s Satis House are strange affairs, but they lead Pip to believe her interest will raise him out of his mean station. Yet, as soon as his hopes are raised, his would be patroness arbitrarily dashes them. However, when a mysterious benefactor arranges for Pip to live the life of a gentleman in London and assume a considerable fortune upon reaching legal adulthood, Pip assumes he is back in the Havishams’ good graces.

Yes, this is definitely Great Expectations (Masterpiece’s second adaptation as it happens, and fifteenth Dickens work overall), following the source novel quite scrupulously. The only question is which ending screenwriter Sarah Phelps chose: the more cinematic and canonical upbeat ending or Dickens’ original conclusion favored by critics such as George Orwell.

In fact, her treatment nicely captures the spirit of the great novel, well establishing the major supporting characters so viewers can fully appreciate the significance when they reappear in different contexts. Perhaps most importantly, she and director Brian Kirk devote sufficient time to Pip’s relationship with Herbert Pocket, his onetime rival turned intimate friend. In a way, their friendship proves people can change for the better, which is one of the novel’s central questions.

Expectations should also interest Game of Thrones fans, featuring three alumni: Kirk at the helm, Mark Addy as the blowhard Mr. Pumblechook and Harry Lloyd engagingly earnest as Pocket (a complete departure from the entitled Viserys Targaryen). However, much of the attention will center on Gillian Anderson as a decidedly younger, but rather spooky Miss Havisham. Indeed, her portrayal of an emotional stunted woman almost literally haunted by her past, as well as Kirk’s embrace of the story’s gothic elements, should appeal to genre viewers.

Always reliable, Ray Winstone is perfectly cast as Magwitch, projecting the appropriate ferocity and sensitivity, depending on the circumstances. Masterpiece regular David Suchet also adds a dash of roguish flavor as Mr. Jaggers, the solicitor administering Pip’s trust. Unfortunately, the charisma and chemistry of romantic leads Douglas Booth and Vanessa Kirby is somewhat lacking, but as with most good Dickens productions, Expectations can be easily enjoyed for the secondary characters.

Great Expectations is solidly entertaining television, even if the tragic love story fizzles somewhat. Unequally divided into one and two hour installments, it is freely recommended for its meaty supporting turns and rich period trappings when it premieres on most PBS outlets this Sunday (4/1), concluding a week later (4/8), as part of the current season of Masterpiece.

Christmas Comes to Downton

It is a big hall to deck, but that is why they have a lot of servants. The holidays have come to the Grantham ancestral home, bringing welcome tidings for some. Originally broadcast in Britain as a Christmas special, the finale of the second American season of Downton Abbey (promo here) airs this Sunday as part of the current season of Masterpiece Classic on PBS.

Stately Downton Abbey has weathered its tenure as a military hospital, but the Great War deeply affected the household. The servants still mourn for one of their own, while Cousin Matthew, the heir apparent, continues to torture himself over the circumstances of his fiancé’s tragic death. The Earl of Grantham’s day-to-day life has largely returned to a state of Hardingesque normalcy. However, there are troubling developments brewing on the horizon.

Grantham’s valet Bates is on trial for murdering the not so dearly departed Mrs. Bates. The Earl and several of the household staff have been called to testify for the prosecution. So far, the press has not connected the trial to the Grantham family, presumably thanks to the intercession of Sir Richard Carlisle, the crass newspaper baron engaged to his daughter, Lady Mary. While Lord Grantham is at a loss to understand why she persists in such a problematic match, viewers know Lady Mary sought a strategic alliance with Carlisle in order to avoid scandal.

Originally presented as a stand-alone episode, the second season finale still presumes an intimate familiarity with the Grantham family history. However, it is as good a place as any to jump in mid season, especially if you just read the two paragraphs above. After all, the Downton phenomenon is not letting up any time soon. After the first season won the Emmy Award for best miniseries of 2011, to the surprise of exactly nobody, an announcement was made Shirley MacLaine will join the cast for the upcoming third season as Lady Violet’s American counterpart.

Needless to say, it would not be Christmas without Dame Maggie Smith’s delightfully mordant Lady Violet, the Dowager Countess. Viewers will also meet two new characters played by high profile guest stars: Nigel Havers, instantly recognizable as Lord Lindsay in Chariots of Fire, and Sharon Small, best known for playing Barbara Havers (no relation) in the Inspector Lynley Mysteries. More or less presented as a gift to fans, episode seven includes everything they appreciate about the series and gives them some of the resolution they have been craving. Of course, there are plenty of unsettled plotlines remaining for the American grandmother to sort out.

Written by Lord Julian Fellowes, who has penned nearly the entire series, this season’s finale has all the crackling wit and old world grace that have struck such a chord with viewers. It is a strong send-off, paying off the faithful, yet leaving them wanting more, all the same. Highly recommended, some of the best television of this still young year concludes this Sunday (2/19) on PBS’s Masterpiece Classic.

Return to Downton Abbey

The British upper-class always understood the importance of doing one’s part, maintaining appearances, and keeping a stiff upper lip. With the outbreak of World War I, the aristocratic Crawleys will respond as best they can. However, the war will profoundly affect both the family and their large staff of servants in the eagerly anticipated second season of Julian Fellowes’ Downton Abbey (promo here), which premieres on Masterpiece Classic this coming Sunday.

After highly rated first season of Downton, millions of Americans are now familiar with the intricacies of Edwardian estate law. The Crawleys' ancestral manor is entailed, meaning it can only be transferred to a male heir. Lord Robert Crawley, Earl of Grantham has three daughters, still. After the tragic death of the heir apparent, Matthew Crawley, the middle class black sheep of the family, became the next in line. Though initially quite frosty towards each other, a cold war courtship developed between Cousin Matthew and the eldest daughter, Lady Mary, that almost but not quite bore fruit. As the second season opens, Mr. Crawley has a complicating surprise for Downton Abbey: Lavinia Swire, his new fiancé.

Both Lady Mary and her father do their best to welcome Swire into the family, but the Earl’s mother, Lady Violet, the Dowager Countess is not impressed. She rarely is. However, the war presents more pressing issues when Mr. Crawley accepts a commission taking him to the front. The war comes to Downton directly when Lord Grantham and his American wife Lady Cora reluctantly allow their stately home to serve as a rehabilitation hospital for wounded officers. In their own way, the three Crawley sisters find ways to be of service. Even the Dowager Countess puts her talents for scheming to noble uses, but tragedy will strike the household, sparing neither the high nor low born.

A surprise hit on both sides of the Atlantic, Downton was recognized by Guinness World Records as the best reviewed show ever (I’m still waiting for my plaque, by the way). Everything that worked the first time around is here again. Jim Carter is still one of television’s most engaging presences as Carson the butler, a model of rectitude, but with a good heart beneath his proper façade. Rob James Collier is still memorably oily as Thomas the conniving ex-footman. Most importantly, the Emmy winning Dame Maggie Smith’s Dowager Countess is still a tart tongued force to be reckoned with. Though used sparingly in the first episode, she comes on strong as the series progresses.

Fellowes compellingly captures a sense of the British home front and his ear for dialogue is as sharp as ever. However, he occasionally indulges in some more unlikely melodrama in the second season (such as an amnesia subplot) that almost seems to be a tribute to those big chewy Victorian novels. After all, if Dickens and Trollope were alive today, they would probably be writing television serials, just like Downton. As it happens, episode six completes something of a story-arc, resolving several issues, but leaving some characters in a bit of a cliff-hanger the old serialists would appreciate. (Originally produced as Christmas special edition, PBS recommends separate review attention for episode seven.)

Naturally, every character has their particular storyline continuing from the first season, yet the not-yet-perhaps-never romance between Mr. Crawley and Lady Mary remains of central importance. Do we really care whether his reverse snobbery and her pride can ever be reconciled? Frankly, yes. Deeply so, in fact. Indeed, for all of Lady Violet’s delightful zingers (“those simple-minded idiots on the Liberal front bench” is an especially tasty one this time around), the surprising depth of their evolving relationship is the truest testament to Fellowes’ superior writing.

Classy, elegant, and wickedly droll, Downton Abbey is still exceptional television. Once again, the most likely best of the year comes early when the second season airs over the next seven consecutive Sundays (1/8-2/19) on PBS’s Masterpiece Classic.

Return to 165 Eaton Place: Upstairs, Downstairs

1936 will be a difficult year for the British Empire. The economy is stagnant, fascism is sweeping Europe, and a scandal will soon rock the Royal Family. The effects of these grand historical events will be felt by the new owners of 165 Eaton Place, perhaps the best loved address in television history, as well as their domestic staff. Nearly forty years after its initial American debut, Upstairs, Downstairs (promo here) returns to PBS’s Masterpiece Classic this Sunday for three weeks of appointment television.

It has been thirty-some years since the final episode of the original series, but only six years since upstairs maid Rose Buck left the service of the Bellamy family. Since that time, she opened her own employment agency for domestics. Times are tough in 1936, but it is still hard to find good help. However, when the new lady of the house at number 136 engages her agency services, Mrs. Buck also agrees to serve as housekeeper, at least temporarily.

Though Lady Agnes Holland tries to staff the house on the cheap, Mrs. Buck (no longer known as Rose) is able to recruit a serviceable staff. However, the footman and chauffeur seem to guard secret pasts, while the veteran cook sometimes has trouble acquiescing to her authority. Meanwhile, there is plenty of drama upstairs, too. Particularly troublesome are Lady Agnes’s churlish young sister and Lord Hallam’s imperious mother, Lady Maud.

Coming in the wake of The King’s Speech, American audiences should be well versed in the events leading up to the abdication of Edward VIII. As it happens, the Duke of Kent makes a few appearances at 165, seeking Sir Hallam’s council regarding his brother and that Simpson woman. The events of Europe hit close to home for the staff as well, when the Hollands hire a formerly well-to-do Jewish émigré as one of their upstairs maids. It also offers a rather unvarnished look at the appeal of British fascist orator Sir Oswald Mosley, whose rallies were one of the few places where the upper and lower classes mixed (while the middle class had the good sense to steer well clear).

Once again, Jean Marsh supplies the heart of Eaton Place as Mrs. Buck, conveying the honest dignity of service. However, she steps back a bit, leaving most of the major plotlines to her co-stars. In a case of being together again for the first time, Eileen Atkins, who co-created the original Up-Down with Marsh but was unable to accept an acting role due to prior commitments, now appears as the high-handed Lady Maud, clearly delighting in her sharp dialogue and regal air.

Yet, perhaps the most compelling character evolution comes from Ed Stoppard as Lord Hallam. Though initially portrayed as a cautious balance-of-power school of diplomat, it seems evident he is ready to chuck in his lot with Churchill’s Conservative anti-fascist backbenchers as the new Up-Down progresses, in part due to events he witnesses in his own household. He also starts to stand up to his domineering mother and self-centered wife, for much the same reasons.

The original Up-Down created such a strong emotional bond with viewers, it is hard to speculate how the faithful will receive this return to Eaton Place. However, for those coming in cold, the new series is an engagingly performed, richly produced period drama that sets the hook right from the start. Though it finishes strong, the new series still leaves at least one major loose end dangling, suggesting there may yet be more Up-Down in the future. Thoroughly entertaining, (at least for us newbies), Up-Down should have a similar appeal as Masterpiece’s breakout hit of the year, Downton Abbey. These two series, along with the rebroadcast of last year’s highly cinematic remake of the 39 Steps makes this one of the best seasons of Masterpiece in perhaps decades. Eminently classy but also simply good fun, the new Up-Down airs over the next three successive Sunday nights (April 10th, 17th, and 24th).

Julian Fellowes’ Downton Abbey

Few contemporary writers understand the foibles of the British upper class as well as Julian Fellowes. In fact, the Academy Award winning screenwriter of Gosford Park recently joined their ranks, having been named a Conservative peer in the House of Lords. Fellowes brought his keen understanding of social dynamics and biting humor to television, creating and writing most of the first season of Downton Abbey (promo here). A breakout hit across the pond, the thoroughly engaging Edwardian period drama debuts on PBS’s Masterpiece Classic this Sunday night.

Downton Abbey is a hulking behemoth of a mansion, surrounded by considerable grounds and out-buildings. The upkeep is enormous which is why Downton was entailed, a common practice amongst the landed gentry, prohibiting the sale of any part of the estate, while mandating the entire kit and caboodle pass entirely to the lord’s immediate male heir. The Earl of Grantham has had the Devil’s own time with the entail. When nearly bankrupted by Downton’s maintenance, Grantham went to New York to find himself an heiress. As luck would have it, they also fell in love, but their union has only produced daughters.

Mary, the eldest, has dutifully agreed to marry her cousin, the heir to Downton, but the first episode opens with bad news. The Titanic has sunk, taking the Grantham heirs down with it. So begins the “great problem” of Downton.

Of course, there is an heir out there somewhere. Disappointingly, Matthew Crawley is hardly a proper gentle of leisure. In fact, he is a solicitor with a dreary middle class work ethic. He and Mary instantly clash, dashing her parents’ hopes of any potential marriage between them. However, as Downton progresses, their cold war melts into a sort of Tracy-Hepburn attraction. It might sound somewhat predictable, but like everything in Downton it is smartly executed.

In the tradition of Upstairs Downstairs, viewers spend equal time with the servants of the Abbey, including Grantham’s mysterious new valet, John Bates, the Earl’s former military comrade. Overseeing it all is the butler, Mr. Carson, who naturally has his own secret past. Yet, we also learn he has a special relationship with Lady Mary. Indeed, it is those intriguing moments where upstairs and downstairs meet that really sing in Downton.

Whenever Downton starts to drag, Fellowes wisely plays his ace trump card: Dame Maggie Smith as Grantham’s mother, the Dowager Countess. Smith was born to play such parts, portraying the Countess with an acid tongue and a regal “we are not amused” air. Often laugh-out-loud funny, her scenes absolutely crackle with wit and verve.

While no one can touch a figure of Smith’s stature, the rest of Downton’s ensemble is also quite accomplished. Hugh Bonneville (primarily known for British television roles) balances Lord Grantham’s pompousness and stately maturity rather well. Brendan Coyle supplies a strong rooting interest downstairs as Bates. Perhaps most surprisingly, Dan Stevens and Michelle Dockery bicker and banter quite entertainingly, while making the most of their graver moments.

Though there is no closure at the end of episode four, Fellowes still ends it at a perfect place, wholly in keeping with Downton’s themes of change threatening social stability. ITV has already renewed it in the UK, which is good news. Despite the symmetry of his conclusion, Fellowes totally leaves us hanging. Do not be deterred by that though. Combining the best of both high period pieces and gold old fashioned melodrama, Downton is thoroughly satisfying television. A highlight of the Laura Linney era of PBS’s Masterpiece Classic (who is about as classy a host as one could find these days, with all the right theater credentials for the gig), Downton Abbey premieres this coming Sunday (1/9) continuing the next three weeks (through 1/30).

Hannay Returns: The 39 Steps

Richard Hannay is one resilient chap. He has foiled German spies in three film adaptations of John Buchan’s classic novel, The 39 Steps, including Alfred Hitchcock’s first acknowledged classic. Recently, he also appeared in an affectionate stage spoof of the beloved 1935 Hitchcock film that delighted both West End and Broadway audiences. He returns again in a new BBC production of The 39 Steps (trailer here) faithful to the source novel’s original pre-WWI setting, which airs this next coming Sunday on PBS’s Masterpiece Classic.

Hannay is a man of the world. A mining engineer recently returned from South Africa, he finds 1914 London deadly dull. However, when his neighbor Scudder barges into his apartment claiming German agents are trying to kill him, at least Hannay has an excuse to draw his revolver. Of course, Scudder turns out to be correct, unfortunately convincing Hannay the hard way, but not before slipping him a coded notebook. On the run for a murder he did not commit, Hannay heads north, hoping to prove his innocence by exposing the Scotland-based spy ring.

In many ways, Hannay is considered the prototypical Hitchcock protagonist—the innocent man pursued by both the villains and the legitimately law, trying to figure out the Macguffin along the way. However, this Hannay is a man who can take care of himself, boasting rather handy knowledge of explosives and a talent for cracking ciphers. While in the Hitchcock film Hannay finds himself handcuffed to his innocent traveling companion, his romantic interest in the new BBC version is far more substantial: Victoria Sinclair, a suffragette with a photographic memory.

39 Steps is a classy period production in PBS’s Masterpiece Mystery! tradition. Although it is prohibitively unfair to compare it to the Hitchcock classic, director James Hawes keeps the chase moving along briskly, navigating the twists and turns rather deftly. The pre-WWI period details all look right and are quite enjoyable as the trappings for an action-adventure story (vintage car chases, burning fuses, and the like).

While there are departures from the familiar Hitchcock, there are still several common scenes. Like the 1935 version, Hannay again finds himself addressing a political gathering through a case of mistaken identity. Sharply written, Hannay’s remarks to the local Liberal Party mocking their naive appeasement give the new production a sly jolt of humor (and may even outdo the original).

Again, it is hardly fair to compare Rupert Penry-Jones to the great Robert Donat, but he is a more than credible gentleman-protagonist. Lydia Leonard, familiar to some viewers from HBO’s Rome, also makes a pleasing romantic foil, not overdoing the bickering banter while never appearing as a clichéd damsel in distress. The great British character actor Eddie Marsan (Inspector Lestrade in Guy Ritchie’s Sherlock Holmes) is also perfectly cast as the squirrely, ill-fated Scudder.

39 Steps offers good, clean skullduggery, presented with the patina of British respectability. On par with the quality of many theatrical releases (and superior in so many cases), Steps is easy to recommend on free TV. It airs on PBS through the auspices of WGBH and Masterpiece Classic Sunday (2/28) at 9:00pm E.S.T.