South Riding, Part Three

South Riding concluded on Masterpiece Sunday night, and with it the somewhat hit-or-miss Classic portion of PBS's 40th Anniversary season has come to a close. I'm somewhat conflicted about this production - on the one hand, I had some issues with the program trying to cram too much info into too little time, giving character and relationship development the short shrift, while on the other hand, I have to give the program credit for ending on a much better note than I was anticipating after last week's installment. So let's discuss for a bit, shall we? :) Here's the Part Three episode summary from the PBS website:

Sarah returns from Manchester disappointed and anxious, as her efforts to find Robert are dashed, and Lydia greets her with nothing but bitterness. A bottle of Scotch and the companionship of Joe Astell ease her loneliness, but the new year brings her back to business. Sarah firmly pleads with the complacent Mr. Holly to try to find a solution for Lydia, but he continues to think only of himself. Meanwhile, in the face of relentless worries, Robert turns to Mrs. Beddows for reassurance about Midge, who finally begins to show acceptance of her situation. But when Huggins asks Robert to drop his opposition to the land deal, suggesting it could be to his own financial benefit, the enraged Robert loses control and makes an accusation with devastating consequences. What follows are hard choices for the residents of South Riding, who face a future of uncertainty and heartbreak, but also of hope.

After the hookup that wasn't to be, Robert (David Morrissey) leaves Manchester without a word to Sarah (Anna Maxwell Martin), who's disappointed and understandably concerned. Though I have to say, to Martin's and the script's discredit, Sarah comes across as less worried about Robert's panic/stress-induced attack and more concerned with the fact that he wasn't stroking her ego and making a second try at their little would-be affair. Thoughts? While I really like Martin in a general way as an actress, I rather wish this storyline had allowed her to play a more mature "inspirational" teacher figure. For someone so determined to blaze a progressive trail, Sarah can be occassionally quite clueless and immature about the realities of the situations she finds herself faced with.

Christmas comes and goes and Sarah's prize pupil, Lydia (Charlie Clark), is still unable to resume her scholarship and return to school following her mother's sudden death. Sarah meets with Lydia's father, Mr. Holly (Shaun Dooley), to pressure him into finding another solution to his childcare problems so Lydia doesn't "waste" her educational potential. That scene annoyed me a bit, primarily because if Sarah is so gung-ho and insistent on getting Lydia back in classes, why isn't she doing something about the Hollys childcare issues herself? I thought Mr. Holly's initial resignation to Lydia's fate, if you will, was interesting and very realistic - he apparently holds the view that since his own opportunities for educational advancement didn't pan out, and since his request for aid was denied there is nothing more to be done. Really rather tragically pragmatic - and one would wish that since Sarah finds this viewpoint so abhorrent she would actually do something to change the situation, instead of gripe about it. All things considered, Lydia's terse response to Sarah's overtures is completely understandable - Sarah should count herself lucky that Lydia didn't bite her head off.

Mr. Holly surprised me in this episode, though upon further reflection I think his way of "fixing" the caretaking issue was really quite moving. I was reminded of pioneer stories, where people married out of necessity, and hoped for love after the vows. I really enjoyed the sparks between Holly and the widowed Mrs. Brimsley (Marie Critchley). Lydia is, of course, understandably reticent about having her mother "replaced" so quickly - and I wish as a viewer I'd been given more time to see a relationship develop between Holly and Mrs. Brimsley beyond their casual, flirtatious banter. Dooley and Critchley had a really lovely screen presence together that I would've liked to see more of - sadly a casual of the enforced three hour run-time.

When I heard that Douglas Henshall was appearing in this production, I was really hoping for a major role, i.e. that his character would be a viable love interest for Sarah - but alas that was not to be. Henshall's character, Joe, the politician and activist, was sadly for Sarah consigned to the role of "pal," since she was determined to throw her affections away on a married and unbalanced man. *sigh* I was happy to see Joe's screentime increased in this episode - especially since he finally calls Sarah out, and no longer content to play the best friend role in her life, announces he's leaving South Riding, unless Sarah gives him a reason to remain. And of course, the stupid woman lets him go. However, I have no doubt Joe is better off in the long run. :)

I was thrilled to see Mrs. Beddows (Penelope Wilton) at long last finally come into her own in this final installment, and become the critical, pivotal character I expect an actress of Wilton's caliber to play. Better late than never, I suppose. :) In Part Two it was revealed that Mrs. Beddows was present at the birth of Robert's daughter Midge (Katherine McGolpin), so it makes sense when Robert, facing finanacial ruin, asks his old friend to serve as Midge's guardian should anything happen to him. Robert's request proves eerily prescient when he turns up dead. Gossip immediately starts flying that Robert committed suicide, since he was facing total ruin when the corrupt Snaith (Peter Firth) sues him for slander.

Sarah is, predictably, crushed at the news of Robert's death. Her reaction and vocal insistence on denying Robert's suicide borders on the ridiculous. Their "relationship," such as it was, was based on a single unconsummated hook-up and a handful of friendly encounters liberally interrupted with clashes over South Riding's future. Sarah's reaction to Robert's death and the loss of their "relationship" reminded me a bit of Mary's over-the-top reaction to the death of her diplomat "lover" in Downton Abbey. Both women annoy me by their insistence at becaming so consumed by these dead-end (no pun intended) relationships that never were anything meaningful to begin with, they ignore the positive possibilities staring them in the face. Sarah's reaction is especially disappointing, because she's presented as a character you think should know better. Oh well...c'est la vie...perhaps in the book she does. (Robert's death is revealed to be an accident, and I have to admit the fact that he dies in a freaking landslide - well doesn't it just figure? Oh the dramatics...)

Midge suffers an interesting - and disturbing - fate when her maternal grandfather (Ralph Risch) shows up at Robert's funeral and essentially demands custody from Mrs. Beddows. Midge, who's done another 180 and become unnaturally (for her, anyway) calm since her father's death decides to move in with her grandfather - the man who has basically ignored her for her entire life. The girl appears consigned to a loveless future, and considering her mother's mental problems who knows what secrets her grandfather hides. Vaguely creepy and oh so sad - Midge appears destined to repeat her mother's life.

Unsurprisingly, Sarah decides to flee South Riding following Robert's death - and this leads to perhaps my favorite moment in the series, when Mrs. Beddows calls her out for cowardice and shames her for running from her grief. Joe had tried to give Sarah a reality check earlier, which she (stupidly) brushed off, but Mrs. Beddows knows the one way to reach Sarah, to get her to stop thinking about herself, is to appeal to her passion for seeing students like Lydia better themselves. And after delivering a cheer-worthy dressing-down and slap-upside-the-head reality check, Sarah (thankfully) decides not to go to London to wreck Joe's life (pure speculation on my part - HA!), and stays in South Riding - where, hopefully, she grows up.

In spite of my frustrations with some of the storylines (honestly, if you couldn't tell, the whole land-grab deal didn't interest me at all, even though it did have a direct impact on Robert) and some eye-rolling and predictable moments, South Riding ended on a better note than I expected after last week's installment. I've got to give Andrew Davies credit for scripting such a save - there's a reason the man has been one of the "go-to" writers for adapting classics for over a decade. Robert's old home is turned into a mental hospital, and the troubled Muriel (Lydia Wilson) finally gets her dearest wish - she can go "home." Since it was abundantly clear she was never going to get better, I really liked this resolution to her tragic story - and since she's back in South Riding, I like to think Mrs. Beddows will keep an eye on her. Lydia lives up to her academic promise and goes to Oxford, and Sarah gets her longed-for new school building (just don't think about the months - at least - that the show crammed into the final five minutes). And I like to think that Sarah will live up to the promise of her introduction - that, having shed some of her immaturity and naivete, she's grown into a teacher to cheer for.

I plan on watching South Riding on DVD, as I'm curious what the full three-hour program looks like. Historically the "missing" 6-10 minutes PBS trims from Masterpiece productions for ads more often than not vastly improve the tone and flow of the show. I'd also like to read the novel - since it clocks in at over 500 pages, I'm confident that there is a wealth of character and story development that, due to the budget constraints of cramming the story into three hours, were trimmed or cut beyond recognition.

While South Riding did not live up to my expectations, it was an interesting and well-filmed period piece, gorgeous to look at - full of great detail and delicious 1930s costumes. This is not a "happily ever after" for all story, and I just wish that Masterpiece viewers had been given the luxury of five or six hours to see this little-known classic brought to life - I think more time would've helped my reception of the show tremendously. If you watched South Riding, I'd love to hear your thoughts!

• Read my review of Part One
• Read my review of Part Two

South Riding, Part Two

South Riding continued last Sunday with Part Two of its three-part run on Masterpiece Classic, where events for all characters took a decidedly darker turn. Here's the episode summary from the PBS website:

With the inspiration of Joe Astell, the razing of the squalid Shacks and development of modern new housing is brought to a vote, in spite of Robert Carne's disapproval. But it comes too late for the Holly family, and the gifted student Lydia, thriving under Sarah's mentorship, must give up her talents and dreams.

For his part, Robert is unable to imagine a future for South Riding precisely because he is a prisoner of the past, as the secret agony of his guilt is revealed. Guilt also torments the lusty Methodist minister Alfred Huggins — guilt and a pair of blackmailers. He plays directly into the hands of Councilor Anthony Snaith, whose gentle prods toward investment in an area of land called the Wastes send Huggins head-first into a risky scheme. Financial woes compound Robert's troubles, and he ventures to Manchester in the hopes of heading off the bank from repossessing his ancestral home. Sarah, on her way to visit her sister, has too stopped in Manchester for the night, and their chance meeting leads to events for which neither is prepared, and an all-too-temporary respite from the messy collisions of life's complexities.

I finally got the chance to watch this episode Thursday night. I have to say, South Riding is not turning out to be quite the type of program I was expecting (i.e. a straightforward romance), based on the previews and episode information I'd managed to read online. It is much, MUCH grittier and darker than I was anticipating. I don't mind "gritty" and "dark" when it is done well (preferably shot through with rays of light) - and that is where this miniseries falters just a bit. One cannot, I think, help but get the feeling that the filmmakers are trying to do way too much in way too little time. While I applaud it for "aiming high," character-wise South Riding is suffering in my view from a lack of time for character development.

One problematic character is Midge Carne (Katharine McGolpin). It was clear from the first moment she's introduced that she is a wildy unbalanced child - the question is, how and to what degree? Father Robert (David Morrissey) is clearly incapable of helping her as she needs, since he carries around such guilt about her mother (more on that in a second) and stress about his nearly-bankrupt estate. Based on Midge's introduction in Part One, and then her subsequent appearances, I have to think she's been very ill-served by the script and pace of the show. One moment she's hysterical, the next she's eerily calm and by all appearances functional, even capable of tormenting an ill-equipped schoolteacher. There is no middle ground, but maybe that is accurate for her type of mental issues, I don't know. The way her inner "switch" flips back and forth just doesn't quite add up to me, at least how it's been presented thus far. Ultimately Midge strikes me as a tragic, ticking time bomb. Even her fascination with Sarah (Anna Maxwell Martin) feels dangerous - she seems to have the type of personality that needs to obsess, and that obsession(s) leads to wildly imbalanced emotional responses.

I haven't been overly fond of the show's decision to have Robert played in flashback by another actor, in this case Daniel West, while Muriel is portrayed by the same actress (Lydia Wilson) in both flashback and "present day" scenes. Personally I don't think David Morrissey looks so "old" that a younger version is required, but given the revelations about Robert's past in this episode I have a theory. It is revealed that upon his return home from the front in WWI, Robert found his wife flirting with three men in their home. Enraged and frustrated (which is understandable), he proceeds to rape her (UGH!), the act resulting in the pair's only daughter. This scene was not for the faint of heart - while it isn't explicit nudity-wise, it's a horrifying, emotionally charged scene, compounded by the revelation that Muriel is very cognizant of the fact that she's not "supposed" to have children (or has been advised against it in the past, that is not specified), and takes precautions to prevent pregnancy - precautions that Robert, in his jealous rage, doesn't care to make sure are in place. So my theory is that the filmmakers cast West in the role in some attempt to make the older Robert more sympathetic. I have a hard, hard time with this. Any way you slice it, rape is a heinous crime - and in films or books, even when the perpetrator expresses guilt/remorse after the fact, I have a hard time "forgiving" them - because with that act, a switch irrevocably flips in my perception of the character in question. Thoughts?

Robert has a lot on his plate, I get that. In addition to the after-effects of being gassed during the war (hence the amyl nitrate, which was apparently used as - a highly addictive? - treatment for cyanide poisoning), he's in danger of losing his anscestral home to repossession by the bank. On top of all this, there's the crippling guilt he carries that his actions - the rape - resulted in the pregnancy that completely tipped Muriel over the edge into full-blown insanity. David Morrissey is an excellent choice for playing the "post-attack" Robert, I will give the casting director that. As I mentioned in my review of Part One, Morrissey proves quite adept at playing the tortured soul. While I am disappointed that the storyline went the direction it did regarding Robert and Muriel's past, I can't think of an actor better than suited than Morrissey to play the repentant/tortured Robert, who feels so guilty and overwhelmed by life that he's on the verge of a mental breakdown himself. I just wish that this miniseries had more time to develop the consequences of the weighty issues South Riding's characters are (trying to) cope with. If as a viewer I'm supposed to somehow "look past" Robert's actions, I really need more of his backstory - perhaps that backstory is provided in Winifred Holtby's novel. Just thinking out loud here...

Anna Maxwell Martin continues to shine as Sarah, making her mark on the school and generally becoming a favorite of students. However, her character suffers in this installment of the series for lack of time to really delve into what makes Sarah "tick," if you will. In Part One, the filmmakers gave us a hint of the romantic tragedy in Sarah's past - losing her fiance in the war - and she shares a meaningful exchange with Joe Astell (Douglas Henshall), South Riding's most vocal crusader for social change. That conversation marked a spark of real connection between Sarah a Joe, a connection that I admittedly favor over Sarah's insistence to pursue a relationship with Robert. Yes, she and Robert shared that whole tremendously exciting (to be read with sarcasm) interlude in the barn with the cow giving birth, but beyond that I don't feel like I've been allowed to see why she is so invested in Robert.

Prior to the failed Robert/Sarah hook-up in Manchester (spectacularly blown up by either a PTSD attack or guilt), Sarah and Rober do share two rather nice scenes. The first occurs after Midge's goading leads the harried teacher Miss Sigglesthwaite to snap, striking her with a ruler across the face. Sarah is, of course, equal parts horrified by the act and perhaps a bit concerned how her failure to see that one of her teachers was on the brink of a nervous breakdown impacted the child of her most vocal critic. But since Robert knows a thing or two about mental strain, he's quite forgiving - Morrissey plays Robert brilliantly, with a balance of bone-tiredness and kindness. The second scene occurs in Manchester when Sarah and Robert meet for dinner - and oh, I am such a sucker for romantic dancing in film. SUCH. A. SUCKER. Sarah's dressed to the "nines" as they say and Robert is quite dashing in a tux - the whole scene is a prime example of how well this film recreates the fashion, romance, and atmosphere of the 1930s - a favorite moment.

My favorite storyline is turning out to be Lydia's (Charlie Clark), the scholarship student at Sarah's school who makes her home in "the Shacks," South Riding's slums community. Under Sarah's watchful tutelage, Lydia is thriving at school, but her future is put at risk when her family endures a shocking tragedy with the untimely death of her mother (Jennifer Hennessy), who bleeds to death - a tragic consequence of trying to terminate an unwanted pregnancy. Her father (Shaun Dooley) applies for hardship aide to the village council, and since Lydia's education is an "option," not a life-or-death necessity, the family's application is rejected, leaving Lydia no other choice than to assume her mother's role as care-taker to her younger siblings. The scene where the once-jovial Mr. Holly humbles himself before the council asking for aid and his summarily rejected just broke my heart - despite the family's hardships, Lydia's father was anxious to do anything necessary to further his daughter's dreams of a future beyond the squalid Shacks - and the blow to their efforts shakes father and daughter to the core. Lydia had quickly become Sarah's star pupil, and I loved their scenes together - but I thought it was interesting that Sarah came across as so - clueless, for lack of a better term, in regards to the harsh reality of Lydia's family situation. That's one of the things that I think fuels Lydia's anger toward Sarah at the end of the episode - coming to her with essentially platitudes instead of concrete aid must've felt like rubbing salt into an open wound.

I could touch on the whole blackmail plot involving Huggins (John Henshaw) and Bessy (Janine Mellor), as well as the land deal with shady developer Anthony Snaith (Peter Firth), but to be honest with you those story threads just weren't all that interesting to me. They felt extremely tangential to the Sarah/Robert and Lydia storylines, which were infinitely more absorbing. I have to admit to being quite disappointed by the lack of scenes involving Joe in this episode - I wonder if he receives additional screentime in the DVD cut of this miniseries? One can only hope, because Douglas Henshall is too fabulous to waste IMO. As is Penelope Wilton as councilwoman Mrs. Beddows!

If you've watched South Riding thus far, I'd love to hear your thoughts! While I thoroughly love the world of this miniseries - the clothing and period detail are superbly handled - I'm a little less enchanted with the pacing and character development in this hour of South Riding - major actions, especially between Sarah and Robert, seem to be developing without the backstory or plausibility that I'd like. The "great" Andrew Davies can only do so much with a script that only allows for three hours. *sigh* Anyways, please share your take on Part Two if you watched it Sunday, as I'd love to discuss!

South Riding, Part One

Masterpiece began airing its final presentation of the Classic Season with Part One of South Riding, based on the novel by Winifred Holtby. Being entirely unfamiliar with the novel, but intrigued by the previews and the stellar cast (not to mention how much I love the 1930s!), I didn't know what to expect. In short, I loved it and can't wait for next week. Now on to the LONG post. :) Here's the episode one summary from the PBS website:

It's 1934, and Sarah Burton, the new headmistress of Kiplington Girls High, is returning to her native, conservative northern town, bringing fiery determination to empower her girls and yank the sorely outdated school into the future. But everything from her fashionable ensembles to her anti-war sentiments and modern ideas attract the disapproval of the stern, brooding landowner, Robert Carne, who doggedly clings to a vanishing way of life even as the past tightens its malicious grip on him. Oppressed by overwhelming debt — and his absent wife's portrait hanging in the estate he can no longer afford to upkeep — he is forced to send his beloved but unstable daughter, Midge, to Kiplington Girls High, where again, he crosses swords with Sarah.

The Depression has hit hardest in the local slums, the Shacks, where Sarah's other standout student, Lydia Holly, is trying to overcome the squalor that surrounds her. A development scheme to provide sanitary housing, advocated by Sarah's ally and admirer Joe Astell, pits him against the reactionary Carne. But Carne's animosity toward Sarah is alleviated, however temporary, when the two share an exhilarating, intimate encounter at the very boundary of life and death.

Host Laura Linney mentioned in her introduction to this episode that an entire generation of young men was lost in World War I, leaving a "surplus two million" women without husbands and therefore traditional lives as wives and mothers. Author Winifred Holtby was one of those women, who made a name for herself as a novelist and journalist, and the heroine of her most famous novel is an unconventional teacher determined to fling open the doors of the world to her young students, determined to teach young women that above all they not allow themselves to be limited by birth or convention.

The teacher in question is Sarah Burton, brought to life by Anna Maxwell Martin. Martin is a familiar face to fans of British drama. She played the role of Bessy Higgins, Margaret Hale's best friend in North & South, followed by her breakout role for Masterpiece Classic audiences as Esther Summerson in the fabulous, amazing, epic, and beloved Bleak House (fun fact - also scripted by Andrew Davies). Martin is a wonderfully expressive actress, with a rather magnetic screen presence, all qualities put to excellent use as she introduces audiences to the fiery, forward-thinking Sarah. From her fashionable, colorful (I want that red dress SO BADLY! Yes, I love it so much it deserves TWO photos!) ensembles to the passionate energy she exhibits in her interview for the position of girls' school headmistress, it's clear that Sarah is a woman who will not be denied, determined to make a difference in the lives of her pupils. Sarah may be a native of the South Riding area of Yorkshire, but it's abundantly clear that she is returning to her hometown determined to change it - and that drive meets with stiff opposition from more conservative, set-in-their-ways townsfolk.

Chief among those who cling to the old ways is Robert Carne (David Morrissey), a local landowner, whose manner is as stern and brooding and stormy as any ardent fan of Jane Eyre's Rochester could wish. Morrissey (deservedly) gained notice among Masterpiece viewers with his portrayal of Colonel Brandon in the 2008 miniseries version of Sense and Sensibility. I've got to admit, in fairness to Morrissey, I really underestimated his ability to play the tortured soul so well. Carne is barely getting by financially, is haunted by memories of his wife, Muriel (Lydia Wilson), who was clearly unbalanced, and has the rearing of an emotionally unstable young daughter, Midge (Katherine McGolpin).

I loved the way the film sets up the introduction and conflict of ideals between Sarah and Robert. Sarah, dressed to the nines, is running to catch a train to the headmistress job interview, while Robert is first seen on a horse, racing to the same destination as he makes up part of the interview committee. First of all, WHO DOESN'T LOVE A MAN ON A HORSE? But beyond that deliciously enjoyable moment, the scenes nicely juxtapose the the clashing ideals and ways of life that are being brought to bear on the South Riding community. Modern vs. traditional - I just thought those moments were really well staged and visually stunning.

Midge is an interesting character. I need theories on her behavior, so chime in with comments. Is she crazy like her mother, or is she unstable because she thinks she killed her mother? That somehow she's responsible for her mother's death? Because that's how I read Midge's crazy behavior in the scene that introduced her. Thoughts? Also, while the child is clearly, desperately in need of some positive reinforcement, did it unsettle anyone else just a bit the way she "flips a switch" to become all quiet and functional at school? What sort of crazy family are the Carnes, exactly? OH THE DRAMA! I love it. :)

Admittedly one of the primary reasons I was excited about this program was the presence of actor Douglas Henshall, playing war veteran and activist Joe Astell. Henshall first came to my attention as the dearly loved and missed original team leader Nick Cutter on Primeval, followed by a fantastic turn in the Masterpiece Contemporary drama Collision. Earlier this year he appeared in the theatrical release The Eagle, and later this summer it looks like he'll be appearing in a new episode of Inspector Lewis (YAY!). First of all, and I just need to get this out of my system - Henshall's accent is absolutely TO DIE FOR in this show. Seriously, I could listen to the man talk rubbish ALL DAY and be perfectly happy.

Astell is one of the board members who interview Sarah for the headmistress position, and I loved watching his face react to her unconventional answers. You could see him thinking this, this is a woman whose interesting, this is someone I would like to know better. And happily for Astell and myself, his unspoken wish comes true when the two sit together a musical evening showcasing local "talent." :) During the patriotic medley at the end of the program, Sarah - much to her chagrin and embarrassment - is overcome with emotion. Astell's quiet and kind demeanor draw forth the story of the fiance killed in the war, the man whose loss changed her life forever, by forcing her to make a life for herself, instead of the one she'd planned to live at his side. I loved the moment the two of them shared, quietly bonding over the shared pain of loss and scars sustained through the war. Robert is all nice and brooding, don't get me wrong, but I needed more Joe in this episode. Oh that accent...it just kills me. :)

In addition to exploring the changing roles that were opened to women in the 1930s, South Riding is a glimpse at a small town and the effect change, secrets, and gossip can wreak on a close-knit community. One such plot thread that will be interesting to see the consequences of is the minister Alfred Huggins' (John Henshaw) inability to keep his pants zipped. He indulges in an affair with Bessy Warbuckle (Janine Mellor), exposing himself to blackmail when she turns up pregnant with another man willing to marry her, both desirous of being paid off. It will be interesting to see how Huggins' frantic desire to maintain his "good name" in the community backfires as its guaranteed to do in a drama of this type. And I just have to say, while I'm enternally grateful that the scene where Huggins and Bessy get it on in the alley refrains from being explicit, seriously what was up with the noises Huggins was making?! I really thought the man was going to drop dead of heart failure - it would've been interesting to see what the show made of that, hmm? :-P

Another plot line sure to prove critical to the storyline is how the town council handles South Riding's slum community. Astell is at the forefront of the drive to develop a new, affordable and sanitary housing development, which pits him against anyone opposed to rapid change (i.e. Carne) or those only looking for financial return (i.e. Anthony Snaith, played by Peter Firth). I am familiar with Firth as a rather casual viewer of MI-5, but I've never seen him in a period drama so that change of scenery is nice. 

Sadly, councilwoman Mrs. Beddows (Penelope Wilton) is introduced and then practically dropped from the hour's activities. I adored Wilton's turn as Isobel Crawley earlier this year in Downton Abbey. Mrs. Beddows promises to be a possible ally for Sarah on the town council, though she tempers her support for Sarah's endeavors with an injunction not to "move too fast," because that's simply not the way things are done in South Riding. Wilton is a joy to watch on-screen, her characters are so full of life, and I am hard pressed to think of an actress better-suited to the role of lone woman on a council of men than she.

The slums is home to Lydia Holly (Charlie Clark), a scholarship pupil at Sarah's school who quickly proves to be one of her most promising students. A bit rough around the edges, and sensitive about her less-than-privileged background, Lydia is hungry for knowledge and affirmation, and education could be her ticket out. I look forward to seeing the teacher/student relationship develop between Sarah and Lydia, as Sarah is sure to be a fierce advocate of anything that will benefit Lydia's future. I loved the scene where Sarah has Lydia read her poem in front of the class, and the glowing look that overcomes her when her efforts are applauded. As Kaye reminded me on the Facebook feed that developed on my wall regarding South Riding, the school aspect of this series has a very Dead Poets Society feel to it.

Sadly for my Douglas Henshall-loving heart, the end of this episode sets up Robert as the romantic forerunner in Sarah's life. *sigh* Because of course, Sarah and Robert are going to fall in love because they take such an instant dislike to each other - and those Pride and Prejudice-esque sparks, when they fly they can be pretty irresistable. But I have to say, Morrissey is proving much more adept and interesting in the role of tortured, angst-ridden male lead than I expected. However, I have got to comment on the turning point scene. Sure, I love drama of Sarah's car running out of petrol, and in her search for help she comes across Robert attempting to help his prize cow deliver her calf (which was in breech? I think?). After all, nothing says love like taking turns STICKING YOUR HAND UP A COW'S UTERUS, RIGHT? RIGHT?!? Um, eewww. I freely admit in respect to situations like this I am a city girl through-and-through. :)

And perhaps my favorite twist - the closing scene where it is revealed that Muriel is alive. YES. CRAZY WIFE IN THE ATTIC (whoops, I mean asylum) FOR THE DRAMATIC WIN. I approve. I feel like this proves Holtby must have possessed an appreciation for the Brontes and Jane Eyre, therefore I like her.

I thoroughly enjoyed the start to this new series, and I cannot begin to tell you how exciting it is to see a story that is fresh and new and unknown (to American audiences, anyway) presented on Masterpiece. Fast-paced and engrossing, and thanks to the prolific Andrew Davies smartly scripted, I found the first hour of South Riding to be smart, engaging television. I adored all of the period detail - the 1930s were known for such fabulous clothes! And the filmmakers did an excellent job with the use of color (particularly with Sarah's ensembles) and light to showcase the push-and-pull between tradition and progress. The 1930s is such a meaty decade, full of terrific story possibilities, and a time period I'm admittedly biased towards - I couldn't be more thrilled to see period dramas exploring this time, bring something fresh and gloriously different to my TV screen. Here's hoping the next two installments live up to the promise of the first.

I am so looking forward to the continuation of this series next week. And then, after that, a re-viewing of the miniseries on DVD, which should be the unedited, full three hour version. Based on last night's runtime which clocked in at about 50 minutes, like Upstairs Downstairs it looks like Masterpiece cut about ten minutes per hour from South Riding to allow for the introduction and ADS. *sigh* Frustrating, but not unexpected given PBS's history with editing. I am hoping of course for more scenes with Douglas Henshall, and really all of the secondary characters that populate this drama.

If you watched last night's broadcast I'd love to hear your thoughts!

• For a limited time, you can watch episodes of South Riding online at the PBS website
• Read Rachel's thoughts on South Riding at a Fair Substitute for Heaven
• Preorder South Riding from Amazon, scheduled to release 5/17/11