The lines between fact and fiction are always blurred when it comes to committing life stories to the screen. We all know that Lord Melbourne was in his sixties and not as aesthetically pleasing as women of a certain age find Rufus Sewell. We know too, that the actual Queen Victoria bares no resemblance to Jenna Coleman, a woman who has formed a million crushes in men and women of all ages. But hey, this isn’t Dead Ringers and as Poldark has proved, we like a bit of eye candy on a Sunday night before the drudgery of the working week ahead. Where things get blurred however, are in the story being woven by the pen of Daisy Goodwin. History recounts that Lord M’s relationship to his Queen was nothing more than fatherly but artistic license is at play here. What we have now is a will they/won’t they (they won’t) saga at the highest echelons of British society. Think of it as an episode of Made In Chelsea without the word ‘like’at the end of every sentence.
The Queen is all big eyes and heaving.. collar bones in the direction of her Prime Minister but her youthful heart gets broken as he announces he’s to step down due to his anti slavery bill only just winning in parliament. The Duke Of Wellington turns down her political advances and she turns down those of Sir Robert Peel. Due to her household being made up of Whig ministers..
No, not that type of wig, Peel demands she loses some of them in the name of political equality. Her stubborn nature is to the fore as she huffs “What ever next? Lose my dresses too?” Erm. Yes please.
Oh well. Worth a try.
Scurrying about in the background of the episode are a load of rats that spread from the kitchen to the rest of the house in unison with the plotting of Conroy and Cumberland. Their nefarious plan to remove Victoria from the throne on the grounds of insanity may seem a little far fetched but just think about attitudes to mental health now yet alone back then. They couldn’t even Wikipedia this stuff. Artistic licence means that during the unveiling of the Queen’s birthday cake, the rodent infestation takes over the baked goods in scenes capable of putting an end to Mary Berry’s heart
THERE’S A RAT IN THE PALACE, WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO? Actually there’s quite a few of them and it turns out that scream is the answer. For most, this is a perfectly natural response but this is the fuel needed for the dastardly duos case for insanity.
Episode two suited the hour running time much more (well, 45 minutes) as the first show seemed to drag. While the main story seems a little one dimensional, there is a real grace and style to the programme. There are little pockets of back stories but nothing that is very diverting. It is essentially the Jenna and Rufus show and everyone else is respectfully playing second fiddle. Here’s the thing, I really did quite enjoy this and I’m surprised that I felt so engrossed. It could be partly down to the magnificence of the incidental music. It is beautiful and sweeps you along for the ride, even if you’re not sure you want to be on that ride in the first place.
I have a confession: My name’s Michael and I really enjoyed an episode of a period drama.
Lame of thrones
It’s also worth praising the theme tune too. While it is haunting and a little bit creepy there’s something really affecting about it.
“I have no chin in this one and two chins in the next. I look like a Goose wearing a crown” A little sly comment about the Instagram filter generation there?
Will the mum stop moaning about the title of Queen mother? You are the Queen’s mother, ergo you don’t need a title to name what you already are. Bloody royals and their vanity.
Jenna perv count
Wet Jenna in the rain. Mmm.. wet Jenna.
“This crown is so heavy and far too big for me. I thought it might slip down over my nose in the Abbey”. I’d love to slide down that nose. Wait, what? Moving on..
That posh accent. I’m a whore for a posh accent.
On that, why is her saying “Mama” so hot? I need to see a psychotherapist.
DIGITAL OBSERVATIONS 