Sherlock: The Hounds of Baskerville

The middle installment of this all-too-short second series of Sherlock on Masterpiece Mystery saw the twenty-first century incarnation of the world's foremost consulting detective tackle a reimagining of arguably his most famous case -- The Hound of the Baskervilles. Originally published in serial form from 1901-1902, Doyle's original tale is a dark and twisty story of family secrets and murder, the latter inspired by a local legend of a fearsome, other-worldly hound roaming the moors. I must admit I was quite curious as to how Sherlock would adapt this fantastical tale to its 21st-century setting and audience. Anchored by a strong script from the pen of the show's Mycroft, a.k.a. Mark Gatiss, I was not disappointed -- as only this series can, Gattiss' script manages to retain the essence of the original story while at the same time transforming it into a unique and fresh spin for this series' purposes.

To begin our analysis of this episode, here's the summary from the PBS website:

Boredom has set in at 221 Baker Street, with Sherlock (Benedict Cumberbatch, The Last Enemy, War Horse, The Hobbit) jonesing for a meaty case and — in its absence — a cigarette. Only the arrival of Henry Knight (Russell Tovey, Little Dorrit), terrorized and desperately clinging to sanity, piques the consulting detective's interest. A gigantic hound — part tourist attraction, part conspiracy theory, part demonic moor stalker — is legend around Baskerville, a top-secret military compound where, it's rumored, chemical and biological weapons experiments are conducted on genetically engineered animals. And Henry Knight has just seen the hound's footprints in the very location where it killed his father decades before. Sherlock gleefully sets off to track the demonic hound with John (Martin Freeman, The Office UK, The Hobbit) at his side and Mycroft's access-granting government ID on hand to enter the high-security corridors of Baskerville. But he may have opened doors to a realm where deduction and reason have no place. Written by Sherlock series co-creator Mark Gatiss (Doctor Who), The Hounds of Baskerville offers thrills, chills, laughs, and an unsettling, unprecedented facet of our hero's clinically controlled mind. (One episode; 90 minutes, TV-PG)

The episode opens with images of a terrified young boy crashing through the woods, desperately trying to escape the something (or someone?) viciously attacking his father on the moors. Now a young man, Henry Knight has returned to the scene of his worst nightmare twenty years later at the urging of this therapist, hoping to put his demons to rest -- only to discover he's standing on ground covered with giant, hound-like footprints. Henry is played by Russell Tovey, who I first fell in love with as the lovelorn John Chivery in the 2008 miniseries adaptation of Little Dorrit. Look at his ears, isn't he adorable? *wink* Also, how deliciously ironic is it that Tovey makes his Sherlock debut in an episode centered on a legendary, fearsome hound, when he played a werewolf in Being Human? At any rate, Tovey's character Henry retains the same first name and status as sole male heir of his family, only with significantly more baggage than his counterpart in Doyle's novel. I thought it was an extremely nice touch to change Henry's last name from Baskerville to Knight, a nod to the original character's status as a peer.

At 221B Baker St., Sherlock (Benedict Cumberbatch) is in desperate need of a challenging case or, barring the appearance of the former, a nicotine fix. I ADORED Sherlock's entry, blood-covered and brandishing a harpoon (a nod to the short story "The Adventure of Black Peter"), completely clueless as to how crazy he must've appeared to everyone he encountered. :) This sequence between Sherlock and John (Martin Freeman) puts the focus squarely on the heart of the series -- the wonderfully odd and unexpected friendship that has developed between Sherlock and John. Freeman is just brilliant here, so matter-of-fact because by this point he knows better than to be surprised by anything Sherlock does. And it reminds viewers of Sherlock's penchant for falling back into drug usage (in this case, cigarettes) when no suitable case presents itself with which he can exercise his incredible intellect. Sherlock's manic desire for cigarettes, even going so far as to suggest something "seven percent stronger" when offered tea (a nod to the canonical Holmes' cocaine habit, mentioned in The Sign of Four), is vintage Holmes -- manic, energetic, self-absorbed by the desire for something, anything, "worthy" of his time. The banter between John and Sherlock in this scene is a prime example of just how perfectly suited each actor is to his respective role -- and to a lesser extent I must include Mrs. Hudson (Una Stubbs), as her never-failing cheeriness in the face of Sherlock's "eccentricities" is a mark of just how much these three oddly-matched individuals have become a family of sorts.

Thankfully for John's patience (ha!), Henry arrives at Baker St. seeking Sherlock's help for explaining what happened to his father all those years earlier, and what, exactly, haunts the moors and his dreams to this day. Tovey is just brilliant as Henry -- edgy, haunted, his every word and action is weighted with survivor's guilt and torment. Sherlock's initial interview with Henry is in every respect a vintage "client scene," one of those moments that occur so frequently in the canon where Sherlock makes a series of amazing and spot-on deductions simply by looking at someone. We've been given this to some extent in previous episodes of the series via the text-message style pop-ups that appear on-screen when Sherlock first meets someone -- however, this time Gatiss gives viewers the joy of watching a maniacally intense Sherlock wow one of the lesser mortals he so frequently has the burden of dealing with, as he lays out, piece-by-piece, Henry's journey to Baker St. (Also, how funny was it watching Sherlock insist that Henry smoke, just so he could get all up in his personal space and inhale second-hand?)

Much to Henry's chagrin, Sherlock is at first uninterested in the case until he is struck by Henry's repeated use of the old-fashioned word "hound" to describe the monstrous beast he saw on the moors. No longer the ancestral home of the novel, Baskerville is now a top-secret military testing facility. Henry's father had been one of the "conspiracy theorists" sure the base was involved in animal testing and the like, developing super-beasts which would of course explain his childhood memories surrounding his father's death. Sufficiently hooked, Sherlock at first promises to only send John to Dartmoor -- a nod to the original novel wherein Sherlock is mostly absent for the first half, Watson sending reports to him, unaware that his friend is observing all, hidden away in an isolated house on the moors. Thankfully for Sherlock, Gatiss and Moffat opted to make Sherlock and John more equal partners in this investigation, giving the ultimate rationalist a chance to confront the seemingly impossible.

I loved the scenes of Sherlock and John driving across the moors -- the bleak beauty of the scenery is the perfect moody, atmospheric setting for a tale of an impossible monster. When they arrive at the nearby village inn (a vegan establishment, significance forth-coming), they discover the the legend of the hound has created something of a cottage industry with tours to areas where there have been alleged sightings. One of the innkeepers is a cheery Little John -- I mean some guy named Gary played by Gordon Kennedy, a.k.a. Little John, which just got me to thinking why oh why did Robin Hood have to end the way it did? *sigh* Despite the claims of a local tour guide, Sherlock remains unconvinced that the local legend is real, and after John swipes a suspicious receipt for a large meat delivery from the vegan pub, the two proceed to the Baskerville testing facility.

In one of the episode's most brilliant comic touches, Sherlock impersonates his brother Mycroft (Mark Gatiss), using a stolen ID card to gain access for John and himself to the top-secret facility -- buying them an estimated twenty minutes, give or take, before the ruse is discovered. I love how John voices a token objection before going along with the plan (of course), even going so far as to "pull rank" when questioned by the officer who greets them, freaking out over the unheard of "surprise inspection." It's a nice reminder of John's military days, a past that seems to have been more frequently mentioned in the stories than it's been given play in this set of films. During their highly illegal tour they meet Dr. Frankland (Clive Mantle), who is WAY too nice for his own good, and Dr. Stapleton (Amelia Bullmore), a highly secretive woman who seems to relish her animal experiements. Now, I was probably biased here, but Bullmore's appearance immediately set me on alert -- not only does her character share the name of the novel's villain, but Bullmore had the distinction of appearing in one of my favorite Inspector Lewis episodes from last season -- the deliciously twisty Wild Justice. Incidentally, I loved how Stapleton's work reminded Sherlock of a query he received through his website -- where a child wrote wanting to know how her pet rabbit disappeared from its locked cage. It's a nice touch that reminds one there's rarely a throwaway reference in these scripts, so tightly do Moffat and Gatiss strive to present their incarnation of Sherlock and his powers.

As predicted, the facility quickly realizes they've experienced a major security breach -- and Mycroft's reaction in London is appropriately, hilariously, droll. The commander of Baskerville, Major Barrymore (Simon Paisley Day), is enraged until Dr. Frankland unexpectedly steps in and vouches for Sherlock and John's story -- allegedly because he's a fan and as a friend of Henry's father, is eager to help the son. Barrymore is a throwback to the novel, as that was the name of the butler -- and as such it is a nice touch to see Baskerville's modern "gatekeeper" share the name of its literary counterpart.

Meanwhile, following an intense session with his therapist Louise Mortimer (Sasha Behar), Henry has remembered two words -- "Liberty" and "In," though he has no idea how they are connected to his father's death. Dr. Mortimer is a nice connection between the novel and this adaptation, as in the novel Mortimer is the family practitioner responsible for bringing the Baskerville family to Holmes's attention, and a sort of self-appointed guardian to the family heir. (Side note: how hilarious is John's reaction to Henry's apparent wealth -- and why can't I live in that house?!) That evening the the three of them make their way to Dewar's Hollow, the site of Knight Sr. death. John gets separated from Sherlock and Henry, and while on his own he notices a series of flashing lights, apparently Morse code, but the letters being transmitted make no sense. (I LOVE how Sherlock has "inspired" John to observe and consider everything as a potential clue!) This "code" is later revealed to be shaking car lights from couples hooking up at a popular romantic spot -- it is a hilarious and cheeky twist on the situation John discovers regarding Barrymore's brother-in-law in the novel, where signal lights are used to get the escaped prisoner supplies. When he hears an unearthly howl he immediately runs toward Sherlock and Henry, just missing the fact that they've seen it, the monster of Henry's dreams, and a sight that has left the unflappable Sherlock shaken to the core.

This is a fascinating deviation from the canon, in that Moffat and Gatiss have chosen to place Sherlock right in the midst of arguably supernatural occurances, forcing him to confront the seemingly impossible with his oh-so-rational mind. This leads to an extraordinarily painful (but brilliantly played) scene between John and Sherlock at the pub. Sherlock is so rattled, so uncharacteristically upset, he rages at John's every attempt to calm him and dismiss what he saw (though he cannot, because being Sherlock he must explain it). It was a well-constructed moment in which to play one of Sherlock's most famous quotes -- "Once you've ruled out the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be true" (a variation of which appears in several stories, including The Sign of Four). Watson's rejoinder to this bit of philosophizing to is to call Sherlock "Spock," which is just brilliant since Cumberbatch has a role in the upcoming Star Trek film. But I digress. In response to John's concern Sherlock then lets rip the killer line that he has no friends -- and wounded (enraged?) John leaves Sherlock to stew.

This is such a pivotal scene in the development of the Sherlock/John friendship over the course of this series. Does John put up with Sherlock in order to avoid dealing with his own issues? Perhaps, to some degree. But I keep coming back to the moment at the end of "A Study in Pink," when Mycroft muses that knowing John could be the "making" of his younger brother. And this is why I think Freeman's portrayal of John is so achingly brilliant. He's every bit the steadfast friend Watson is in the canon, willing -- happy, even (most of the time, ha!) -- to stay in the shadows while Sherlock hogs the spotlight with his brilliant deductions and his quick wit. But he feels deeply about this friendship in a way that Doyle, I think, only touched on in the stories. No matter how Sherlock may (most of the time, unintentionally) wound him, John seems to know he doesn't mean it, or rather can't help it -- and to realize that while he may never say it, Sherlock needs him as much as he needs Sherlock. These two wounded, messed-up people really are the making of each other -- and the way they complement each other, the depth of that friendship is the heart and soul of the show -- at least for me. :)

The following morning Sherlock is on a roll thanks to the revelation that "hound" is not necessarily a thing but perhaps an acronym. I loved watching him try to apologize to John for his rudeness the night before, because just saying "sorry" would be way too easy (he even makes COFFEE!). His admission that he doesn't have friends, he just has one -- oh, that was brilliant and Cumberbatch's delivery just broke my heart into a thousand pieces. This was of course followed by unbridled hilarity when Sherlock shoots himself in the foot going on about John being a "conductor of light," not a genius but inspiring genius in those like himself. *wink* Oh, Sherlock. The breach temporarily repaired they discover the arrival of Lestrade (Rupert Graves), sent down by Mycroft to keep an eye on Sherlock, but really just ridiculously happy to be there. I love Rupert. :) And the whole thing about Sherlock not knowing Lestrade's first name was Greg? HILARIOUS. The three of them really have this sort of deliciously dysfunctional "three musketeers" vibe going on. John takes advantage of Lestrade's presence to clear up the matter of the vegan pub's meat order. In another nod to the novel, the pub owners had been keeping a dog which they loosed on the moors to feed the legend, similar to how Stapleton in the novel used his own monster of a dog to feed the legend and frighten Sir Henry's predecessor to death. The pub owners claim to have put the dog to sleep for its out-of-control behavior, but Sherlock doesn't buy their explanation, because he definitely saw something, something that can be explained loose on the moors.

After convincing Mycroft he needs access to Baskerville's facility, Sherlock and John return, and John strikes out on his own to investigate labs for signs of animal testing while Sherlock (allegedly) meets with Major Barrymore. John finds himself locked in an abandoned lab, where he hears a growling and gradually becomes increasingly terrified (loved how valiantly John fought the fear impulse, one has to credit his military discipline), to the point that he locks himself in an empty cage until Sherlock arrives to free him. He tells Sherlock he's seen the hound, but Sherlock attempts to calm him by assuring him that they've all been drugged with something that mainifest their fears, i.e. what they've been conditioned to see/expect. It's a nice role-reversal from earlier. And oh, while my rational side "knew" Sherlock "had" to use John as a test subject, given their recent fight, oh how I hated it -- but at least Sherlock gives us the sense during the reveal at the end of the episode that he realized most people would take being made secret test subjects emotionally.

Sherlock then bans all from his presence so he can "go to his mind palace," a mental-mapping memory technique that allows him to sift through everything he knows regarding Henry's key words "Liberty" and "In." Cumberbatch was just brilliant in this sequence. It not only showcases his masterful grasp of the character, but it is a wonderful visual showcase for the series' colorful and visual filming techniques used to bring Sherlock's thought processes to life. This scene results in Sherlock realizing that Henry's key words refer not to things, but to a place -- Liberty, Indiana. He then utilizes Dr. Stapleton's computer access to research the location -- failing that, they go to a higher clearance level -- Barrymore's -- after Sherlock deduces the Major's password. Liberty, IN was the location of the H.O.U.N.D. project, a CIA chemical weapons experiment with a goal of developing an aerosol that would defeat the enemy by disorienting the fear stimulus center of one's brain, triggering violent, over-powering hallucinations. The project was shuttered after the test subjects were driven mad -- but clearly one of the founding scientific minds behind the technology hasn't given up on it -- as identified by Stapleton, the over-eager Dr. Frankland, with his penchant for Americanisms like "cell" instead of "mobile" is the culprit. (Interesting that a female Stapleton is once again key to solving the crime!)

The hound-through-hallucinogenic-gas is just a brilliant method, I think, of updating the original storyline. It retains so much of the story beats and flavor of the original while at the same time becoming something wholly unique to this series' incarnation and vision of Sherlock & Watson. The Holmes of the canon encountered the effects of hallucinogenic gas in the story "The Adventure of the Devil's Foot," which became to my mind one of the creepiest and most memorable episodes of the classic Jeremy Brett television series.

The episode reaches its climax when Dr. Mortimer calls John, frantic over nearly being shot by an out-of-control Henry. He, Sherlock, and Lestrade arrive at the hollow just in time to prevent a hysterical Henry from committing suicide. Now -- I love this conclusion, I adore how it plays out -- but given the limitations of the ninety-minute format, it feels just a tick too convenient, too rushed to be quite perfect. But all told that's a small qualm when one considers the overall quality of the episode. :) Sherlock manages to talk Henry out of suicide, explaining that Dr. Frankland was responsible for his father's death and strove to discredit Henry by driving him slowly insane with the hallucinogenic gas (dosing him up via the pressure-release pads in the hollow every time he visited). Just as Henry seems to calm down, a fearsome hound appears -- a wonderful moment for fans of the original novel. With the gas dosing everyone in the area, the dog looks every bit the monster Doyle created. The dog's appearance is followed by Frankland in a gas mask -- and I loved the touch of Sherlock ripping off the mask, only to reveal the face of Moriarty, not Frankland -- a telling moment for what keeps the great detective up at night, no?

Once Lestrade shoots the dog, it is revealed as completely ordinary -- and Henry is given the mental reprieve to process Frankland's betrayal. It's a painful but rewarding payoff for Henry, as his faith in his father is rewarded -- brilliantly and heart-rendingly played by Tovey. I thought it was an extremely nice touch to have Frankland run off onto the moors, stumbling into the Baskerville minefield -- and meeting his end in much the same way his novel counterpart did (though slightly more *ahem* explosively).

So all's well that end's well outside of Baskerville -- and while I treasure those little moments between Sherlock and John, I really feel the episode could've used a post-reveal scene with Henry, something to assure us that he's getting healthy and moving forward with his life, you know? Instead we cut to a prison, where Mycroft is overseeing the release of Moriarty (Andrew Scott) for a cell where he's covered the walls with graffiti of one word -- Sherlock. It's an ominous promise leading into the final Reichenbach-themed episode of this series.

"The Hounds of Baskerville" is really a brilliant episode, putting a unique update on the classic story, allowing us to see the ultimate rationalist confront and overcome fear -- which for Sherlock I think perhaps stems from a complete loss of control, the fear that logic would fail him. This is hands-down the eeriest, most atmospheric episode of the series to date (the moors never fail in that regard) -- in fact, if it was filmed in black and white I'd think it was  prime example of classic film noir thanks to its brilliant use of light and shadow to foster suspense. It's a fitting bridge looking towards Sherlock's next confrontation with Moriarty, the man this episode reveals to be Sherlock's greatest fear -- perhaps because Moriarity is his complete antithesis, chaos to Sherlock's order.

Review: Murder is Easy by Agatha Christie

Murder Is Easy

By: Agatha Christie

Publisher: St. Martin's Minotaur

ISBN: 978-0-312-97982-9

About the book:

It was just Luke Fitzwilliam's luck to be stuck next to a dotty old woman like Miss Fullerton on the London-bound train - although he found himself quite entertained with her tall tales about a series of perfect murders in the quaint village of Wychwood. But when he reads the next day of the freak accident that killed her, too, Fitzwilliam's amusement turns to grave concern. A visit to the isolated village confirms his worst fears. For Wychwood seems to be divided by an eccentric lot of locals: those who are in on a dark and dangerous secret - and those who don't live long enough to share it.

Review:

In many ways Murder Is Easy reminded me of one of my favorite Christie novels, the Miss Marple outing The Moving Finger. Both books draw back the curtain on seemingly tranquil, "ideal," English village life where everyone has secrets and no one is as they seem. Luke Fitzwilliam, newly retired from overseas police work, has a chance encounter with the eccentric Miss Fullerton on the London train. She tells him a fantastic tale of a murderer running loose in her village, knocking off people left and right - really too incredible to be believed. Or so Luke thinks, until he gets the news that his elderly informant was killed in a freak accident on the way to report her findings to Scotland Yard. He hatches a plan to pose as a friend's cousin writing a book on local customs, and goes to stay with his cousin Bridget, who turns out to be a stunning beauty engaged to the local bigwhig, Lord Easterfield. Not knowing who to trust, Luke joins forces with Bridget - but the murderer could be craftier than they think...

Most of my Agatha Christie reading has been confined to the Poirot or Marple novels, so it's always a treat to discover one of her standalones that delivers a good corker of a mystery. The pacing is excellent, and the way Christie introduces the cast of suspects, only to dismiss each in turn, is supberbly handled. Being something of a hopeless romantic (LOL), I loved the romantic, but atypical subplot between Bridget and Luke. They sparred and fought like crazy, but couldn't help falling for each other. :) And the last few chapters, where the murderer is revealed, are absolutely un-put-downable. With this book Christie created one of her creepiest, most disturbing villains, proving the revenge is a frightening dish best served cold. For all the pros, I did think the dialogue is a bit "clunky" and just does flow as well as some other Christie efforts I've read. But that's a small quibble, and certainly shouldn't detract one from reading what is a thoroughly enjoyable puzzler from Dame Agatha Christie.

Book vs. Film:

The differences between the book and the recent film version of Murder Is Easy absolutely boggle my mind. I don't think I could even keep all of the changes straight to the point where I could list them and have them make even some sort of sense. The first change is, of course, the insertion of Miss Marple - what's shocking is that it's far from the most glaring change to the plot. Most of the townspeople are present, but their history and motivations are completely mixed up or changed wholesale. I think it's a real shame that the culprit's history and motives were completely rewritten for the screen. In the book, the murderer's motives are so creepy and disturbing as is, Christie didn't need to fabricate an incest/rape plot. The bottom line is, changes to Christie's novels typically don't bother me - when they make sense. But this film pretty much completely rewrote the novel from the ground up, and the filmmakers went for an ick factor rather than the psychologically disturbed, way more creepy, villain Christie created. I will give the filmmakers credit for building up the character of Constable Reed (Russell Tovey). The constable is only mentioned in the novel, never really introduced, and Tovey made the character a lot of fun to watch (not that I'm biased or anything, HA!). And while the filmmakers completely rewrote Bridget's character, the romantic tension between Bridget and Luke (Benedict Cumberbatch) is pretty true to the way the two characters are written in the novel. The bottom line, though, is that this film pales in comparison to the book.

Miss Marple: Murder Is Easy

Spoilers...

Considering a new Marple episode is on Masterpiece Mystery tonight, I know I'm really late in posting about last week's episode a week late. But I was left, quite honestly, slightly freaked by last week's episode (I couldn't get my head around the idea of Christie writing an incest/rape plot), and wanted to read the novel before I blogged about the film. So now that that's accomplished, on to a bit about the film from the PBS website (because trust me, the film and the book are two entirely different things!):

Miss Marple coincidentally meets a woman on the train who confides that she is on her way to Scotland Yard to report two murders. "Murder is easy," the woman says conspiratorially. "As long as no one thinks it is murder." When Pinkerton herself is found dead, Miss Marple travels to the quaint village of Wychwood to pick up the trail. The village is populated with any number of suspects — a beautiful, young American on some sort of mission, a successful politician and an ambitious lawyer. But even with the help of retired policeman Luke Fitzwilliam (Benedict Cumberbatch, The Last Enemy) will Miss Marple be able to unlock the secrets of this sleepy village?

In many ways this film resembles one of my favorite entries in the rebooted Miss Marple franchise - The Moving Finger. Both stories take place in what are, apparently, peaceful, tranquil little villages - the most unlikely locale for homicidal maniacs, right? Or not, as the case is proved here once again. To start with, I should say Murder Is Easy isn't actually a Miss Marple book. Before I'd even read the novel this week, it was easy to spot that Miss Marple co-opted at least half of the role of Luke Fitzwilliam (Benedict Cumberbatch). Miss Marple has been quite successfully inserted into non-Marple books in other episodes of this series (particularly By the Pricking of My Thumbs, which is a Tommy & Tuppence novel). I'm all for inserting Miss Marple into non-Marple books, since those are rarely, if ever, filmed. And, at least to date, they remain fairly faithful adaptations of the original stories in basic essentials in spite of the new investigative presence. So, let's start off by talking about the "stunt" casting in this episode. :)

First up we have the aforementioned Benedict Cumberbatch (Amazing Grace, Atonement) as Luke, recently returned from policework overseas, and attempting to recalibrate to English life. As the main character in the novel, in order to "make room" for Miss Marple he loses half of his role. Luke's character isn't as compelling as I would've liked to see, given that I think Cumberbatch is a fantastic actor, but I did enjoy the scenes where he got to play off Julia McKenzie's Marple. Which brings me to my second favorite piece of casting - Russell Tovey (Little Dorrit) as Reed, the local constable. Tovey does a terrific job of playing Reed with the right balance of go-get-'em smarts and uncertainty at being caught way out of his depth investigatively. My favorite scene in the film is, I think, the sequence where Reed interviews several townspeople, and it turns out that Miss Marple is listening in from the next room, coaching him along with the occasional note. Tovey and McKenzie played off each other really well here, and were a lot of fun to watch.

It was great to see Anna Chancellor in a new project. Anyone familiar with the "Colin Firth" Pride and Prejudice will recognize her as the one and only Miss Caroline Bingley. She plays the doomed Lydia Horton, who "stole" the Major from Shirley Henderson's character, Honoria Waynflete. Hands down the creepiest bit of casting is Henderson (Moaning Myrtle in the Harry Potter films, Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day). Henderson plays creepy and disturbing extraordinarily well. It's freakishly uncanny!! The woman is 44, apparently, but she looks a good 15 years younger than that at least, and her height (only 5'1/2") only reinforces her waif-like appearance. The idea of someone, who looks like Henderson, killing five people, just boggles the mind.

I ended up appreciating this film a bit more on the second viewing as a creepy show. The first time I watched it I went in expecting more of a creepy, cozy-style mystery, along the lines of The Moving Finger. You get that, of course, but then for reasons I've yet to figure out the filmmakers had to go for the low, salacious angle of having all of these crimes stem from the results of Honoria's mentally retarded brother getting drunk and raping her, resulting in a pregnancy which led to the randomly inserted American orphan angle, Bridget searching for her roots. (Speaking of Bridget, when she discovers her roots why is she not more...disturbed?! Just sayin'...) I'm not completely naive - I get that the 1950s weren't all Donna Reed, and a lot of crappy things happened then as happens today. But this movie seemed determined to show that veneer of gentility everything crappy and awful that could happen, did. I mean there's a fine (okay, sometimes it's a neon flashing sign, but whatever) line between a nicely mysterious, creepy story and outright distasteful. And I guess what I'm trying to say, is this show ended up more on the "eewww" distasteful end of the scale for me than not. Book vs. film comparison after my review of the novel, which will be in the next post.

Little Dorrit, Part Five (you thought I'd never get around to it, didn't you?)

I’m shamefully late in posting my thoughts on the final installment of Little Dorrit, but life intervened in a not-so-small way these past few weeks, involving day after day of horrible allergy problems and sinus headaches. Either I’m getting better at long last, or I’m just getting used to a horribly low status quo…not sure which yet. *wink* Then there’s work stress, and on top of all that my grandmother (Dad’s side) has had several health issues accompanying attempts to get her settled into an assisted living facility. Thankfully, her situation took a turn for the better this weekend…but the adjustment is still difficult. Prayers appreciated!

Spoilers ahead…

All that to say, my delay in posting this final write-up happily has nothing whatsoever to do with the quality of the conclusion – Little Dorrit has proven to be an outstanding production, and hands down is my runaway favorite part of this year’s Masterpiece Classic season. Since it’s been a while, here are links to my reviews of part one, two, three, and four of Little Dorrit, and here’s the brief episode summary from the Masterpiece website:

Broken by reminders of the past in London, Mr. Dorrit returns to be with Amy in Italy. Amy watches as her father continues to fall apart.

Pancks discovers the whereabouts of Miss Wade, and Arthur asks for her help in finding Rigaud. Arthur is convinced that Rigaud's ties to the House of Clennam relate to his father's deathbed secrets.

Meanwhile, an unthinkable revelation about Mr. Merdle sends shockwaves throughout London. The story reaches a climax at the Marshalsea where Amy and Arthur meet once more, and at the House of Clennam, where finally Mrs. Clennam's secrets are brought to light.

Where the pace of episode four dragged a bit for me, I was riveted by the conclusion. Amy (Claire Foy) and Arthur (Matthew Macfadyen) are placed squarely front and center and are the focal point of the action, and it’s a joy after five-plus hours of agony to finally seen their relationship get somewhere! But I’m getting ahead of myself…

I’ve made no secret of my distaste for Mr. Dorrit – he’s been annoying, pompous, overbearing, manipulative, and downright emotionally abusive. He’s dispatched rather quickly at the beginning of episode five, and I have to give particular credit to Claire Foy, James Fleet (Amy’s uncle, Frederick Dorrit), and Tom Courtenay (Mr. Dorrit himself) for the emotional pull they imparted to these scenes. My intense dislike for Mr. Dorrit softened at the end in the face of Amy and Frederick’s love and grief over his loss. And speaking of loss, I totally didn’t expect for Frederick to give up the ghost after his brother’s death!! That was just awful…I loved his interaction with Amy, and I was sort of hoping they could support each other’s efforts to frustrate societal expectations. *wink* Amy and her uncle were a sweet pair – kindred, giving spirits in the midst of a crazy, delusional family. James Fleet’s performance at the end was incredibly moving, very well done indeed (a nice change from Fleet’s flakier, but equally endearing turn in The Vicar of Dibley).

Why not jump right from one death to another? (That sounds really morbid and flippant, doesn’t it? LOL) Mr. Merdle and his banking schemes finally come crashing down, and wipe out the fortunes of pretty much everyone we’ve come to know over the course of the series. Can we say timely & relevant? Anyway, Mr. Merdle (Anton Lesser) is really quite creepy given how we never see him lose his cool. Watching him ask to borrow Fanny’s penknife with what can only be described as a chipper manner was really rather mind-blowing. Merdle had obviously completely disconnected from reality. And I seriously didn’t expect him to off himself in a bathtub!! It was absolutely fascinating to see the panic and widespread effect Merdle’s suicide had on all of London society. The “man of the age” brought down the fortunes of so many, and I appreciated that the film gave us a glimpse at the disastrous ripple effect caused by the collapse of Merdle’s banking empire.

Merdle’s death brings me a final note about Fanny Dorrit, now married to the besotted Edmund Sparkler. She marries to spite Mrs. Merdle, and then the rug is unceremoniously ripped out from under her with the collapse of the Merdle banking empire. I have really gotten a kick out of Emma Pierson’s portrayal of Fanny – she’s not a wholly admirable character by a longshot, but I like her nonetheless. She’s got sass and spunk and outrageous manners, and at the end of the day she loves her sister. Really, when it comes down to brass tacks as the saying goes, Fanny is the best equipped character to deal with the Merdles’ reversal of fortunes. And I love the delicious irony that the pretentious Mrs. Merdle is now dependent on a daughter-in-law she despises – it’s crystal-clear by this point that Mrs. Merdle and Fanny are more alike than either woman would ever dare admit.

JOHN CHIVERY ROCKS! Now that I’ve gotten that out of my system, I’ll try to talk about why my darling assistant turnkey is so fabulous. Russell Tovey’s acting has consistently exceeded my expectations throughout this entire production. I fell in love with John’s character at the very beginning of the program, but I was completely unprepared for where Tovey took his character in the concluding installment. The first time I watched John confront Arthur about Amy, when Arthur becomes a Marshalsea resident, my jaw dropped. I can remember clearly thinking he’s really going for it, I never expected him to go there. Tovey’s performance is so visceral, so gut-wrenching, that the emotional punch of the scene knocked me flat. And when John delivers his own eulogy (of sorts)…I cannot lie, people, the man made me cry. On top of all this, he continually helps Amy and Arthur, sacrificing his own peace of mind out of love for Amy - the guy is too good for words. John Chivery goes down as one of my all-time favorite characters, and I'm really looking forward to seeing where Russell Tovey's acting career goes from here.

Amy and Arthur’s first reunion during this section of the film is anything but warm and fuzzy. I really never expected Amy to basically tell Arthur off like she does, but a part of me was really quite glad to see it. Arthur is truly a lovely, stand-up guy, but he is so freaking DENSE! I have to admit, when John smacks Arthur upside the head by revealing Amy’s true feelings, I did enjoy his suffering through the realization just a wee bit. His suffering seemed like a smallish price to pay for the flipping MENTAL ANGUISH Amy had put up with for 80% of the show. Anyways…I love, love, LOVE Amy and Arthur’s proper reunion, when he wakes up from his fever to discover she’s been nursing him back to health. Of course then I want to smack him upside the head with a 2x4 when he tries to go all noble – I love you, but now that I’m in debtor’s prison I’m tainted for all time, blah, blah, blah…but good for Amy for basically telling him you can blather on all you want but you’re stuck with me for good.

Regarding the whole Rigaud/Miss Wade/House of Clennam mystery, without going into detail I’m going to say I’m on the whole pretty pleased with how everything is resolved. The first time I watched this portion of the program, I was left confused by Arthur and Amy’s relationship…somehow I ended up thinking they were cousins. Thankfully another commenter came to the rescue with an explanation (bottom line: Arthur and Amy are not related at all - LOL!). As Mrs. Clennam learns, the truth will out. Did anyone actually think the House of Clennam was going to fall down, literally?! That completely shocked me. LOL! Flintwinch's "blimey" as he climbs out of the rubble was priceless. I mean the house actually, physically, fell apart. I still find that rather mind-blowing. A little obvious (LOL), but it makes for interesting television, that's for sure.

Arthur and Amy's final, at long last, boy-I-never-thought-this-day-would-come declaration of love was a sweet, sweet payoff to all of the turmoil and trouble the pair endured throughout the series. Macfadyen and Foy really made a great romantic on-screen couple. There was something incredibly romantic in the way the two looked on-screen - the romantic in me just melted into a puddle of goo (good goo, LOL) at the way Arthur just picked Amy up and swung her around with joy. When Matthew Macfadyen smiles, it's almost like he becomes a completely different person (you can really see that in his turn as Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice). I know this is cheesy, but seeing Arthur finally really, truly joyful, the weight of secrets and mean pseudo-mothers lifted from his shoulders - that just made me happy.

This series was amazing. Kudos to the filmmakers and Andrew Davies in particular for scripting another Dickens miniseries for me to obsess over. *wink* There's so much "meat" to this series, I'm sure I'll be picking up on new details and nuances of performances for some time to come.

Purchase Little Dorrit on DVD (totally worth it people, trust me!).

Little Dorrit, Part Two

Here there be spoilers...

So I know this recap of Little Dorrit, part two is long overdue, but what can I say - it's been an insane week. I came down with a NASTY cold Tuesday which really knocked me out of commission until yesterday, and then today has been all about tornado dodging.

Anyway, we'll dive right in...if you need a refresher, here's my post covering episode one. Here's a the short summary of episode two from the Masterpiece Classic website:

Romance and heartbreak are in the air. John Chivery proposes to Amy Dorrit, while Arthur Clennam's aspirations for Pet Meagles become deflated after meeting another suitor, Henry Gowan. Meanwhile, Flora Finching, concerned that Arthur's attention is being distracted by Amy, brings Amy to work for her. Opportunistic Fanny Dorrit leads on smitten Edmund Sparkler, stepson of famed banker Mr. Merdle.

Cavalletto arrives in London, only to discover he has been followed by Rigaud. Learning of a box that contains Mrs. Clennam's secrets, Rigaud senses an opportunity.

Mr. Pancks continues his investigation on Arthur's behalf. He recruits John Chivery and a lawyer for help.

Tattycoram, outraged at what she considers poor treatment, declares she is leaving the Meagleses for good. Mr. Meagles watches with great concern.

The events set in motion in part one begin to gain momentum with this installment. First off I have to give a nod to Russell Tovey's positively heart-rending performance as assistant turnkey John Chivery in this episode. We start off with his preparations for proposing to Amy Dorrit, and then in a mere few minutes we're (well, I was, anyway) crushed when Amy turns him down. He is so stinking adorable!!! I LOVE his character!! It takes quite a guy to have his love rejected and still want the best for the woman in question, even willing to still go to great lengths to try and help her family situation. I so want his character to end happily, but I'm very much afraid his broken heart is going to stick around... *sigh*

I thought the fallout from this proposal provided some really interesting insight into William Dorrit's character. Honestly, he was really getting on my nerves a bit last week with all of the airs and pretensions he insisted on putting on while in prison. He seemed like he was burdening Amy unnecessarily, and perhaps even purposefully. However, William's mini-meltdown was packed with more emotional punch than I was expecting, quite honestly. You really see the awful tragedy of William's character, and how his imprisonment was dually a prison and a sort of emotional shelter. When he's given the opportunity to simply step into the street, but can't because the open, chaotic space frightens him - that scene speaks volumes as to the toll of his imprisonment.

Arthur's infatuation with Pet Meagles was dispatched a little quicker than I was expecting. However, the pacing is part of what makes a show like this such engrossing viewing. I am hooked on the show and the characters the same way I was when watching Bleak House when it first aired. The scripting, and the way the show is filmed forces you to pay close attention - you literally can't look away because every scene and every character ends up being interconnected in some way that proves critical later on.

Andy Serkis's character Rigaud is perhaps even more menacing in this episode than previously (and he was pretty cold-hearted last week). Rigaud's scenes this week really drive home the fact that he's a completely lethal, amoral, opportunistic loose cannon. I may be reading the scene wrong, but when he kills Flintwinch's brother I don't think he was targeting him on purpose - I think he saw an opportunity and took it. If anyone reads the scene differently, let me know your perspective. He is one scary guy, and I cannot wait to see his interactions with the glacial Mrs. Clennam.

I absolutely LOVE Matthew Macfadyen in this series. I can't imagine another actor playing the character of Arthur with a better mix of sweetness, uncertainty, and...how can I say it...upright, moral resolve. Poor Arthur is so clueless about his affect on Amy...I just want to smack him upside the head. And give him a good, teeth-rattling shake to boot - especially when he tries to get Amy to rethink her refusal of John's proposal. (Why are men so clueless? WHY? LOL!) However, I have to give Arthur some credit for stepping out and establishing himself in business away from his family in this episode. It will be interesting to see how Arthur's business ventures develop, especially with the introduction of Mr. Merdle (Anton Lesser), the fabulously wealthy banker - when he appeared on screen there was practically a neon sign flashing "Ponzi scheme" over his head...okay, so I made that part up, but you just know that's where the story is going to go!

Likewise, Claire Foy has continued to impress me with her nuanced performance as Amy. This episode gives a little more insight into Amy's character and her interactions with her family - particularly with her dancer sister, Fanny, who's not above using her feminine charms to get her way. By contrast, seeing Amy so hopelessly, nobly pine away for Arthur is heart-breaking. I mean when she throws his stupid button into the sea...I was ready to give her a hug and say "girl, I understand." LOL!!

There is some priceless comic relief in this episode, supplied by Arthur's ex Flora and the aspiring detective Mr. Pancks. Also have to mention Flora's aunt (or aunt-in-law might be a more precise way of describing her) - Annette Crosbie may not have a lot of screentime, but she steals the show every time she opens her mouth! And I'm loving Pancks's character, but the man needs to work on his social skills - when he's being cryptic he comes off a tad creepy. LOL!

Needless to say, I can't wait to find out the next chapter of the story. I hope we see more of Mrs. Clennam in episode three - I rather missed her creepy, icy presence in this last installment. I'm also ready for Arthur to start to realize that Amy's nuts about him... There's a whole slew of other minor characteres I could mention, but I think I've hit the high points. Does anyone have any thoughts to add?

Little Dorrit, Part One

Get ready people - this is a long post. But an epic miniseries deserves an epic, long post, don't you think? ;-)

In watching part one of Little Dorrit last night on Masterpiece Classic, to say I was riveted would be an understatement. Part one was fantastic, and if the rest of Little Dorrit lives up to the promise of last night’s two hours, this is hands down the best Masterpiece presentation in years – probably since Bleak House. Here’s the spoiler-free summary of episode one from the PBS website:

Amy "Little" Dorrit lives in the Marshalsea Prison for Debt caring for her father William Dorrit. To aid her family, Amy works for stern shut-in Mrs. Clennam. Son Arthur Clennam returns from China after his father's death, haunted by his father's final, mysterious words. Is there a long-buried family secret and does it somehow involve Amy and her family?

Settling back into English life, Arthur gets reacquainted with former sweetheart Flora Finching, although true affections are saved for Pet Meagles. Meanwhile, in Paris, sinister murderer Rigaud considers coming to England.

Having now befriended Amy and her family, Arthur makes a financial offering to help one member of the Dorrits. Amy's appreciation and affection for Arthur grows as John Chivery, a turnkey at the Marshalsea who has a longtime love for Amy, watches heartbroken.

To probe more deeply into the Dorrit mystery, Arthur enlists rent collector Mr. Pancks for help, leaving Arthur free to visit the Meagleses. While there, Arthur becomes troubled by Tattycoram (who lives with the Meagleses), and her mysterious connection to Miss Wade.

Now, any and all spoiler free bets are off as I’m going to rip into the episode. (Though since I’ve never read the book – actually never even heard of it until this miniseries was announced – I don’t think you have too much to worry about if you’re concerned with spoilers!)

I can already tell that it’s going to take a couple of viewings of Little Dorrit to get a really good grasp of the multiple plotlines and the huge cast of characters thrown our way (in true Dickensian fashion). The scope and feel of this program immediately recalls the epic Bleak House, presented by Masterpiece in 2006 (hard to believe it’s already been three years!). Both productions were adapted by screenwriter Andrew Davies, who has proven time and again eminently suited to bringing classics to the screen. The broader the scope of the source material, the better I think one can appreciate Davies’s talent for honing it into compelling, relatable television.

Claire Foy plays the title character Amy (“Little Dorrit”), and according to the IMDB, this is her first major role and only her third acting credit. Thus far I’m incredibly impressed with her screen presence and believe she’s going to do an excellent job anchoring this epic miniseries. Her relatively slight frame is in keeping with her character’s name, but she has these wonderfully large, expressive eyes that lend her face a luminous quality. She’s not flashy, but she has an arresting presence – it’s clear that Amy is a character that’s borne much, but the burdens of life haven’t robbed her personality of kindness and strength.

And now we come to the main reason I was excited about this program – the presence of Matthew Macfadyen as our noble hero Arthur Clennam. I fell in love with Matthew when he brought his own unique merits to the character of Mr. Darcy in the 2005 film version of Pride & Prejudice. Arthur definitely comes across as a little less polished, less self-assured than Darcy – that is in no small part no doubt due to being treated like crap by his crazy mother (more on her later). So far, Arthur has proven to be rock-solid in the honor and loyalty departments. He’s also comes across as slightly befuddled, a bit unsure of himself, and that apparently stems from the lack of any sort of positive affirmation in his life. However, the fact that he’s such a good guy, and something of a catch to boot, and he doesn’t even realize it, makes him incredibly endearing. (Though I have a feeling that I’m going to want to smack him upside the head and yell “Wake up!!” before the show concludes – he’s a trifle dense.)

Arthur figures prominently in several of my favorite scenes from last night’s episode (surprise, surprise, I know). When he visits the Circumlocution Office in a futile attempt to find out why William Dorrit was imprisoned, the staging and setting of the scene is the perfect blend of social commentary and wry satire. The winding stairs and never-ending piles of paperwork provide a wonderful visual illustration of the futileness of Arthur’s quest and the general mess of the legal system as a whole. The whole scene was a great reminder of how some things haven’t changed all that much between now and Dickens’s time. I also loved the scene where he’s left his mother and is getting settled into his own place (finally!), and Amy and Maggy drop by because Amy knows he is responsible for rescuing her brother from a foolish racing debt. Matthew Macfadyen is just too stinking adorable for words in this scene as Arthur, obviously desperate for friends, practices playing host.

The Dorrits

Now I want to go back and briefly discuss some more of Amy’s family. Tom Courteney plays the Dorrit family patriarch William, who’s been in Marshalsea debtor’s prison for so many years he’s become known as the “father of Marshalsea.” Talk about a high-maintenance Daddy – one gets the impression that William has pretty well disconnected from reality, and actually enjoys being renowned as Marshalsea’s most famous resident.

James Fleet plays William’s well-intentioned but rather meek brother, Frederick, who’s not a Marshalsea resident and tries to help his brother’s family when and where he can. It was so much fun seeing Fleet on-screen again – his most famous role in my experience is as Hugo in the absolutely hilarious show The Vicar of Dibley. According to the credits, Frederick appears in all of Little Dorrit’s episodes, so I’m curious to see how his character may develop.

Amy has two siblings – Fanny, played by Emma Pierson, and Edward or “Tip,” played by Arthur Darvill. The main thing I can say about them is that if you compare them to Amy, she doesn’t just appear as good and sweet and kind, she comes off as an absolute saint with an unbelievably deep reservoir of patience for tolerating their self-centeredness.

Maggy, played by Eve Myles, is probably the closest thing Amy has to a true sister even though they aren’t actually related. She’s the mentally challenged granddaughter of Amy’s former nurse. Amy is devoted to Maggy and quite protective of her – and considering her own challenges of supporting a family that expects more than they’d ever dream of giving, Amy’s devotion to her friend further underscores her good nature.

The Chiverys of Marshalsea Prison

The Dorrits are watched over by the turnkey of Marshalsea Prison, Mr. Chivery (Ron Cook) and his son John (Russell Tovey), the assistant turnkey who is hopelessly in love with Amy. Their kind treatment of the Dorrits allows the family, particularly father William, to retain some shreds of dignity even while in prison. I absolutely LOVE John’s character. The entire time I was watching last night’s installment, I kept thinking “This is great! John’s like Guppy (from Bleak House), only better, because he’s adorable, sweet, and NOT INSANE.” I haven’t seen much of Tovey’s work, except for random episodes of Poirot or Doctor Who (he’s also in an upcoming Marple episode – look for that this summer!). But since he’s making such a good impression in this series, I have to predict good things for Tovey’s acting future. After all, Burn Gorman’s career really took off following his unforgettable turn as Guppy in Bleak House – then he appeared in Penelope, a Marple episode, Wuthering Heights, and a recurring role on Torchwood. Whenever I see Gorman on-screen I get this uncontrollable urge to jump up and down, point at the screen, and yell “Guppy! OMG it’s GUPPY!!” If John’s character continues to make a good impression, I can only sound (marginally) saner in the future yelling “John! OMG it’s JOHN!!” during forthcoming Tovey acting gigs (which I very much appreciate).

The House of Clennam

Mrs. Clennam, played by Judy Parfitt, is quite a character, to say the least. I think the first thing I can remember seeing her in was as Queen Marie in Ever After (note to self: haven’t seen that movie in ages, need to re-watch asap!). Mrs. Clennam has always ruled her family with an iron hand – apparently Arthur and his father went to the Far East for like fifteen years just to get away from her (which I completely understand given her behavior last night, just sayin’…). In an unusual flash of generous spirit, Mrs. Clennam hires Amy, providing her with some much-needed income. However, she refuses to divulge the reason to Arthur, or to shed light on the mystery he brings to her door in the form of a cryptic message found in his father’s pocketwatch. As an invalid, she’s lived in a gradually decaying old house for a dozen or so years – she reminds me just a bit of Miss Havisham from Great Expectations in that respect. She repeatedly rebuffs all of Arthur’s attempts to honor her with some token of filial respect, like a simple embrace – her treatment of him is quite chilling. Their whole relationship is a fascinating, dysfunctional trainwreck.

The other two residents of Clennam House are Jeremiah Flintwinch (Alun Armstrong) and his wife Affery (Sue Johnston). Armstrong has appeared in several Masterpiece adaptations, playing Daniel Peggotty in David Copperfield and Bucket in Bleak House. Jeremiah’s an interesting, deliciously sinister character. It’s unclear at this point whether or not his loyalty resides with anyone but himself. I feel just awful for his poor wife Affery (and not just because she has a goofy name) – thus far it appears he married her as part of some “grand plan” hatched with Mrs. Clennam, though why they had to join forces in marriage is anybody’s guess. Affery appears to have a kind heart but a very weak-willed nature, the latter tendency exacerbated by years of verbal and physical abuse at the hands of Mrs. Clennam and Flintwinch.

The Meagles Family

The role of the Meagles family is sure to grow and expand as Little Dorrit progresses. Arthur first meets the Meagles on his return voyage to London, and Mr. and Mrs. Meagles take an instant liking to him as a potential suitor for their daughter, Pet (seriously – Pet?!). Mr. Meagles is played by the wonderful Bill Paterson, who has appeared in Wives and Daughters, Doctor Zhivago, ShakespeaRe-Told, Foyle’s War, Miss Potter, and Amazing Grace. Mrs. Meagles is played by Janine Duvitski, who I first encountered when I started watching Waiting for God and One Foot in the Grave (both are hilarious British comedies from the 1990’s).

At this point, I don’t have much to say about the daughter, Pet (played by Georgia King), for a couple of reasons – she’s coming off as spoiled, vapid, empty-headed, and most unforgivable of all, Arthur apparently has a thing for her. Guys can be so annoying. This is the smack-Arthur-upside-the-head situation that I alluded to earlier. Why Pet, Arthur? Isn’t her name enough of a turn-off? You generally appear to be sensible, level-headed, and honorable…so wake up!! (I feel better having gotten that out of my system.) The final resident of the Meagles household is Tattycoram, an orphan they have taken in who has issues with the fact that she’s treated more like a servant rather than an adopted daughter. Tattycoram is played by Freema Agyeman, who I think, quite simply, rocks. She shot to fame as the smart and competent Martha, the Doctor’s companion in season three of Doctor Who. Tatty appears to be headed for trouble – she’s so dissatisfied with her lot in life that she’s ripe for corruption by the mysteriously sinister Miss Wade (played by Maxine Peake). I’m very curious to see where Dickens takes Tatty’s character as the story unfolds.

Etc.

Being a Dickens novel, there’s a whole host of other characters surrounding the main players, so I have to mention a few of the highlights that stood out to me last night.

Mr. Pancks (Eddie Marsan) is a hard-nosed debt collector whose character gets really interesting when Arthur hires him to try and discover why the Dorrits were imprisoned. Pancks reminds me just a bit of Alun Armstrong’s Bucket from Bleak House, so I’m very curious to see where the story takes his character.

Flora Finching (Ruth Jones) jilted Arthur once upon a time, and during his hiatus in the Far East has been married and widowed. Her altered appearance in the intervening years is initially played for a chuckle or two (filmed really well I might add), but she’s not a simple comic character. Flora makes no secret of the fact that she still harbors a passion for Arthur, and the fact that she is so transparent with her feelings lends the character some real emotional depth. I have to mention her crazy dead husband’s aunt that she “inherited,” played by the fabulous Annette Crosbie (The Slipper and the Rose, One Foot in the Grave). Her brief appearance as Mr. F.’s aunt was absolutely hilarious (the whole dining scene was a comic gem!), and I’m happy to see that she reappears later on in the series.

And finally, I have to mention the sinister Rigaud (also known as Blandois and Lagnier), played by none other than Andy Serkis! I had no idea that Serkis was in this miniseries, and I didn’t realize who was playing him until I started to really examine the cast list today. This is just further proof (as if we needed it) of Andy Serkis’s uncanny ability to completely disappear in a role – I had no idea who he was when watching last night! Honestly I was a bit confused as to how Rigaud fits into the puzzle that is Little Dorrit, so I’m very curious to see how Rigaud is brought into the center of the action, and what this cold-hearted killer’s appearance means for the good guys.

Everything about Little Dorrit screams of top-notch production values. The costumes are fantastic, and every single set is dense with detail and rich with atmosphere. Every frame, every scene of the story gives you a lot to “chew” on, and far too much to digest in simply one viewing. I make no secret of being a huge film score fan, so I have to give a shout-out to John Lunn for his gorgeous work here. And thank you, Andrew Davies – so far this adaptation is proving to be another sterling entry in your resume of outstanding work.

Is Little Dorrit the equal of Bleak House? That remains to be seen. However, for what it’s worth in my opinion this promises to be the best costume drama to come from the BBC since Bleak House and maybe Cranford (almost forgot the latter!).

You can read more about Little Dorrit at the Masterpiece Classic website.
For a limited time, you can watch full episodes of Little Dorrit online.
Pre-order the Little Dorrit DVD (releases April 28th).

You can see a few more pictures of the cast of characters at my Xanga site - I'm finding that Xanga is a lot more "photo-friendly" than Blogger for ease when formatting picture-heavy posts.