Grantchester (2014) s07e02

The episode begins with Tom Brittney drunk, talking to God about his engaged-to-another-man girlfriend (Ellora Torchia), and Brittney has finally become the vicar of “Grantchester.” Even if there still aren’t any scenes with him doing any services. Brittney’s also running low on consoling excuses to explain his presence at the police station to new boss copper Michael D. Xavier.

Xavier’s a stickler for the rules.

And apparently, a wet noodle with the ladies because Torchia’s his fiancée, and she’s trying to get Brittney to keep their affair going indefinitely. Brittney’s trying to get her to leave Xavier, then the episode’s murder investigation gets him reconsidering the liaison. Well, the murder investigation and their inability to keep their hands off one another even in inopportune locations.

Like I said, he’s finally a real Grantchester vicar.

The episode establishes its other big subplot—Robson Green (still living with Brittney in the vicarage and listening to the bedposts bumping in the next room) is again failing to show estranged wife, Kacey Ainsworth, he can take care of the kids. Ainsworth has gotten so busy at work she’s brought in her niece, Charlotte Ritchie, to help out. Ritchie’s a widow with an adorable tyke of her own and a far more appropriate love interest for Brittney; they become fast friends in the episode, both being fans of Green (on his better days), but it’s unclear if there’s any actual chemistry.

Ainsworth’s work subplot—which involves an attentive male coworker (Ryan Early) who Green can’t stand—introduces the murder A-plot. Local cleaning supply maven Kirsty Besterman is telling the salesgirls at Ainsworth’s department store how to best promote the product and then has to leave suddenly. Something’s happened to her husband, Rob Pomfret.

Pomfret soon is calling the police—Green takes the call, even though it’s his day with the kids, and Brittney tags along. Turns out Pomfret got hurt while over at the local madam’s establishment, which introduces said madam, Rebecca Lacey, and one of her girls, Boadicea Ricketts, as suspects.

In addition to wife Besterman.

There’s a lot of back and forth about marriage from the female perspective, which gets both Brittney and Green thinking about their current romantic troubles. Lots of good acting from the guest stars. Besterman and Lacey in particular.

Meanwhile, the C plot involves Nick Brimble being convinced wife Tessa Peake-Jones is having an affair. He confides in Al Weaver, who takes it upon himself to investigate, discovering a far different but still profoundly consequential truth. Lots of good acting on that plot; Weaver and Peake-Jones get some fantastic scenes together.

And then Ainsworth, despite getting to start the A-plot, has a good arc of her own, including making a new friend in capable police secretary Melissa Johns.

It’s a very full episode; Daisy Coulam gets the script credit, and she packs in a whole bunch, including introducing presumably recurring Early and Ritchie. In addition, Ricketts has her own son, adorable tyke Ace Gill, who helps make her an analog to the other mothers on the show.

So very full, very affecting episode. Lots of deep feels and not just on the soapier subplot.

Grantchester (2014) s07e01

There are some significant changes in “Grantchester” at the start of this season; some are continuations of last season’s subplots, others are not. New curate Ahmed Elhaj is gone already, getting a brief mention from Tessa Peake-Jones somewhere in the first five minutes, then nothing. Actually, vicar Tom Brittney doesn’t do any Church of England work this episode, though he does come into his own as the Grantchester vicar. He’s done with flirtations with comely reporters and odd relationships with his stepsister; he’s moving into pure Sidney Chambers territory and picking up ladies at jazz clubs.

Ladies who turn out to be engaged.

It’s kind of amazing Robson Green doesn’t comment on the behavior. Maybe Peake-Jones will someday. It’s like they gave Brittney a James Norton script.

The episode starts with Green and Brittney hitting a new jazz club and Brittney dancing with mystery woman Ellora Torchia. Green goes to work instead, where overqualified secretary Melissa Johns mentions a commotion for Green to remember later on once the murder investigation kicks off. Green’s living in the vicarage with Brittney, still separated from his wife, Kacey Ainsworth.

The most entertaining character development is Al Weaver, the former curate who got outed and jailed last season; thanks to Nick Brimble (Peake-Jones’s well-enough-to-do husband), Weaver’s now got a cafe. And he’s a beat poet. After a season of Weaver suffering trauma after trauma, the episode opens with the promise of beat shenanigans and then delivers them later on, and it’s delightful.

Weaver’s subplot about the cafe opening has Peake-Jones helping him decorate; she’s not thrilled with his interior decorating, and the feeling’s mutual. It’s the nicest subplot, whereas Green and Brittney’s personal life subplots have no easy resolutions. Not an episode in any way.

Green wants to make grand gestures to win Ainsworth back, while Ainsworth just wants him to help out with the kids a little. Since their separation, it appears Brittney’s doing some heavy lifting on Green’s Saturdays with the brood, which he appreciates but doesn’t learn from. And then the inevitably complicated identity of Brittney’s mystery woman complicates things for both him and Green.

Plus, Green’s got a new boss, Michael D. Xavier, who’s convinced Green’s been holding back dipshit copper Bradley Hall and wants to give Hall more to do. Also, Xavier doesn’t want Brittney hanging around the station doing copper work.

The mystery this episode involves a dead drifter (Philip Buck) who turns up on the estate of two spinster sisters (Anna Wilson-Jones and Emma Cunniffe). Even though Brittney doesn’t do any work at the church, he uses Wilson-Jones and Cunniffe’s parishioner status to stay involved in the case.

Outside Green being a little too obtuse about his marital problems (maybe not for 1960 or whatever, but definitely given Green’s character development over the series), it’s a rock solid opener for the season. The mystery’s good—very British—the guest cast’s good (Wilson-Jones bonds nicely with Brittney, while Cunniffe and Green are green thumbs), and it’s really nice to not see Weaver traumatized every other scene, historically accurate or not.

I Capture the Castle (2003, Tim Fywell)

Do the British have an unending supply of novels about wise-beyond-their-years young women (unjustly poor or ordinary, of course) who have slightly dim older sisters who can’t see love in front of their eyes while all the time these younger women suffer for their sisters’ happiness? It certainly seems so.

I Capture the Castle, the film, plays like a combination of Cold Comfort Farm and Pride & Prejudice. It’s an incredibly long film, filled with two and three minute scenes set days or weeks apart, and chock-full of bad performances. The lead, Romola Garai, is excellent–though her performance isn’t enough to recommend the film, as it’s saddled with terrible diary-writing narration (filling the diary seems to be the present action of the film, but it’s decided on later and the film never takes advantage of that reasonable structure). Bill Nighy, as Garai’s father, a troubled novelist, is great. Nighy’s often great in outlandish roles, but Castle is the best work from him I’ve seen, he’s fantastic. Also good–surprisingly, as I haven’t seen him in anything for ten years–is Henry Thomas. Well, I suppose I saw him more recently in some of Cloak & Dagger, before I turned it off.

The rest of the cast is not good. Oh, except the precocious little brother. I queued the film for Rose Byrne, who plays the dull older sister. Given the rest of the cast, she’s not so bad, but she’s not any good in Castle. Tara Fitzgerald is bad. Sinéad Cusack is bad. Marc Blucas–as Thomas’ brother–is so bad he’s laughable. Even if these actors–Byrne aside–weren’t so bad, Castle probably wouldn’t be any better. It’s so shallowly written. Ah, forgot another one–almost Superman Henry Cavill is bad too. Anyway, the writing (I assume from the source novel) gives the characters no depth and gives the audience little to identify with except the occasional humor and the dreadfulness of being a wise-beyond-her-years English young woman who’s sacrificing her happiness for her older sister’s. Her dim older sister’s.

The director lensed the film in 2.35:1, which tends to require a lot of talent when the subject matter is people. He hasn’t got the talent (from his filmography, it looks like he’s done mostly TV movies and Castle was his only chance for glorious Panavision), but the English country-side scenery is pretty. At best, Castle (along with Dirty Dancing 2) will be an odd citation in Garai’s someday excellent filmography. At worst, it’ll be Bill Nighy’s best performance.