Passing (2021, Rebecca Hall)

Passing is a genre-buster, which heavily contrasts the very strict mores the film’s subjects live within. The film is an occasional Southern Gothic (set in 1920s Harlem), occasional character study Hitchcock homage. Harlem Renaissance society lady Tessa Thompson has a peculiar day when shopping for her son’s birthday; the sometimes very shitty white folks just assume she’s white. So, on a whim, she goes to a hoity-toity hotel to get out of the heat.

We have none of Thompson’s backstory or context at this point. Instead, director Hall guardedly introduces her to the film, then follows her, the camera as hesitant as Thompson in her whim. Once she gets to the hotel, however, things get real when she’s people-watching, and one of the people starts watching her back. When this other person approaches her, Thompson’s fear of being found out pervades the film, breaking her collected demeanor (which only happens a few times in the film and always echoes beautifully).

Except this person is Ruth Negga, and she knows Thompson, and Thompson knows her. But Thompson knows Negga as a fellow Black girl, not a vaguely Southern white lady with her husband (Alexander Skarsgård) in a ritzy New York hotel.

Negga’s thrilled to see an old friend, even as Thompson gets increasingly uncomfortable with the situation. Their impromptu reunion culminates with Skarsgård revealing himself to be an avowed white supremacist; we watch as Thompson experiences the awkward, problematic situation become grotesque. Understandably, she gets out of there as soon as possible, heading home to normality.

Normality is doctor husband André Holland, two sons (Ethan Barrett and Justus Davis Graham), a housekeeper (Ashley Ware Jenkins), and loads of charity work for the Negro League. The first act is set against Thompson preparing a charity ball. But, eventually, Negga will get herself invited, effectively inserting herself into Thompson’s life and home.

It’s Harlem Renaissance, so white people are touring north of the Park, meaning Negga can be seen without raising too much suspicion. After all, regular white tourist Bill Camp, who’s Thompson’s closest thing to an actual friend, is always around. In the second act, Thompson’s tea party for Camp will be another significant moment in the film and for Thompson.

While Thompson and Negga’s rekindled friendship only goes so far, with Negga less interested in society goings-on than taking Thompson’s roles in her home. Negga befriends housekeeper Jenkins, who Thompson treats curtly. Then, when the boys need someone to play with them in the afternoons, Negga joins them. The first act establishes Negga and Skarsgård have a daughter, and motherhood is on her mind, but pretty soon, it seems like she’s more interested in playing mom to Thompson’s kids, not her own. The motherhood theme is one of the film’s most subtle, but it does a lot of heavy lifting throughout.

The biggest change with Negga’s presence is Holland, however. He goes from thinking of her life as a curiosity to be ridiculed to being her most ardent supporter. Perhaps too ardent a supporter, especially as Thompson becomes more and more bewildered by Negga’s ability to exist in a state of constant deception.

The second half of the film becomes a psychological thriller without the thrills, instead focusing tightly on Thompson’s experiences and observations of her changing life. Holland wants their sons to be aware of white supremacist murders, while Thompson intends to keep them as sheltered as possible. Their fears and frustrations run underneath the surface, informing performances and events. It’s delicate, nimble work.

Because the film sticks to Thompson, Holland remains something of an enigma throughout, as does their marriage. The first act introduces them formed; there’s the perfect, party-throwing, party-going society couple, which Thompson contrasts with Negga’s mysterious, duplicitous, dangerous marriage. The film takes its time revealing more about Thompson and Holland’s marriage, relying on conversations and moods—and Camp and Thompson’s friendship—to fill in.

The third act is a pitch-perfect synthesis.

Passing is black and white, era-appropriate Academy ratio, beautifully photographed by Eduard Grau, with picture-perfect composition from Hall. It’s an urban fairy tale turned nightmare. Great patient, often lyrical cutting from Sabine Hoffman and a lovely, sometimes diegetic, sometimes not, sometimes maybe not score from Devonté Hynes.

After starting with a literal spotlight on Negga, Passing soon becomes Thompson’s film. The whole production hinges on her performance; both are a success. Thompson’s fantastic. For a while, her performance is reactionary—to meeting Negga again, to seeing how others react to Negga—but in the second act, Thompson stops getting fresh stimuli, and her performance essays internal experience, particularly of her status as a society wife and mother. The third act’s a mix of both styles, revealing even more about the character as events unfold. Thompson’s good in the first act, but it really does seem like Passing’s going to be Negga’s movie; then, starting from the inactive position, Thompson dominates the frame. So good.

Holland’s excellent, Negga’s really good, Camp’s really good, Skarsgård’s distressingly perfect in his part.

Great production design from Nora Mendis and costumes by Marci Rodgers.

Passing is spectacular. Hall, Thompson, and company do an outstanding job.

It’s so good I can’t even be sad Gbenga Akinnagbe isn’t in it more. I mean, I’m sad he isn’t in it more, but he doesn’t need to be in it more.

Ball of Fire (1941, Howard Hawks)

Ball of Fire is a rare delight. It’s got an enormous cast of scene-stealers who all work in unison, thanks to Hawks’s direction but also Charles Brackett and Billy Wilder’s screenplay being so well-balanced.

For most of the picture. The third act has two choices, and it chooses poorly but still successfully; I’ll get to it later. First the rundown.

Fire is the story of eight encyclopedia authors who have been living in seclusion for nine years (in New York City). They’ve got three more years (at least) on the encyclopedia, but they’ve found their rhythm. Right up until garbage man Allen Jenkins lets himself into their house—they’re right off Central Park on 83rd, with a ginormous work area on the first floor and their living quarters on the second floor; Jenkins has some questions about a trivia sweepstakes and figured, based on the books he’s seen through the windows, they’d have answers.

However, Jenkins’s slang makes English content expert Gary Cooper realize he’s using twenty-year-old books and nine-years removed personal experience. If he doesn’t go out into the world and listen to some slang, the encyclopedia’s entry will be at best dated, at worst incorrect.

Cooper’s the youngest of the eight authors. The rest are mostly familiar character actors of a certain age: (in alphabetical order) Richard Haydn, Oskar Homolka, Leonid Kinskey, Tully Marshall, Aubrey Mather, S.Z. Sakall, and Henry Travers. All of them are splendid; Homolka and Haydn are probably the best. They’re also the two with the most to do, though Travers gets a bit. Or his smaller part just stands out more because it’s Clarence. Mather, Kinskey, and Marshall probably get the least to do, meaning they deliver punchlines. Haydn gets the most to do because he’s the only one of the men who’s ever been married. They’re all bachelors, all utterly perplexed to do around the ladies, including Cooper, who we discover Doogie Howsered instead of chasing girls.

However, the older men do know Cooper’s at least potentially a hit with the ladies; he’s in charge of flirting with their reluctant benefactor, Mary Field, whose dead father had the encyclopedia project in his will. Field’s only got a little to do, but like everyone else, she’s great. Charles Lane plays her attorney because Ball’s a who’s who of recognizable Classic Hollywood supporting players.

Anyway.

On his expedition to find the newest slang, Cooper finds his way into a nightclub, where Barbara Stanwyck is performing. He finds her vocabulary fascinating and even more enthralling than revealing outfits. Turns out Stanwyck’s a gangster’s moll; in this case, the gangster’s Dana Andrews, who probably gives the film’s most energetic performance. Andrews can’t quite steal the scenes, not opposite such strong actors, but he makes sure to stand out. He’s a hoot, especially once he starts mixing charm with menace.

The D.A. has got the goods on Andrews, but only if Stanwyck can give evidence against him. The case they’ve got Andrews dead to rights on is slightly absurdist, with various sight gags and one-liners, and no one ever just gets the idea to have Stanwyck lie. Though maybe they’ve got a witness placing her somewhere. It’s a very thoughtful, intentionally convoluted setup, with Brackett and Wilder enjoying the excuse to spin great expository yarns.

Andrews’s solution is to have Stanwyck temporarily go on the lamb, with a fantastic Dan Duryea as her bodyguard. Ralph Peters is also there to help, but the movie knows to give Duryea more material. He’s so good.

Luckily, Cooper’s arranging a slang symposium and gives Stanwyck an invite; she figures he won’t mind if she shows up early and needs to crash there for the night. While it turns out Cooper does mind, his seven roommates are ecstatic at the idea of Stanwyck bunking with them for the evening.

An evening turns into a few days, during which Stanwyck teaches the old boys the latest dances while helping Cooper pick up—and study—the latest lingo. Stanwyck’s presence annoys housekeeper Kathleen Howard to no end, and when Howard finally puts her foot down, Stanwyck’s got to take drastic measures. In doing so, she discovers Cooper’s got a crush on her and, unlike his colleagues, still wants to do something about it. So Stanwyck makes it work in her favor while starting to get dreamy-eyed when looking at Cooper.

While Cooper’s got some excellent comedy moments in Ball and he’s earnest in his romantic scenes, he’s still playing an elevated rube. Sure, his character’s in charge of supervising the project, but he’s only the protagonist of the bunch because he’s Gary Cooper. Stanwyck, however, gets to take this trope-ready part and turn it into something incredible. The romance subplot comes from her performance; otherwise, it’s just a cruel joke at Cooper’s expense. The nasty subterfuge thing also never works too much against her character being sympathetic because Stanwyck’s tortured with regret about the plan.

Things perturb to get all the parties together for the finish; only comedic happenstance throws things off course so the second act can end where you’d think they’d be ending the third.

Now for that third act.

It’s longer than it needs to be, especially since they never get the film entirely back on track—they spent too much time at the station to keep the unrelated metaphor going (there’s a lot of car and truck humor, actually). The actual pacing issues aside, the material’s all well-written because it’s Brackett and Wilder, and the cast is, as usual, delightful; it just isn’t where the film had been headed. It’s hectic, with lots of great moments for the actors, but it’s reductive.

The filmmakers seem to know it too. Whenever the distraction starts dragging, one of the cast will have some great moment and reset the timer. The movie’s frittering and knows it. Once they’ve gotten it all together (again), adding four more characters to the mix (at least sixteen characters in play), the ending’s strong and fun. It can’t entirely make up for the lost time but knowingly wasted it well.

Ball of Fire’s mostly a phenomenal comedy. Stanwyck’s great, Cooper’s real good, Andrews, Duryea, Homolka, they’re all real good. Haydn gets a particularly devastating scene all to himself. The only character who doesn’t get a good arc is Howard as the justifiably judgey housekeeper, which hurts the performance.

In addition to all the character actors in major supporting roles, there’s also a young Elisha Cook. It’s just packed with great performances, big and small.

Like I said before, a rare delight.

This post is part of the Caftan Woman Blogathon – Honoring Patricia Nolan-Hall hosted by Patty of Lady Eve’s Reel Life and Jacqueline of Another Old Movie Blog.

All Creatures Great and Small (2020) s02e07 – Christmas Special

This Christmas special, “All Creatures,” goes for the jugular: the main veterinary case is a very sick Tricki Woo, whose illness panics pretty much everyone who’s ever met him. When Patricia Hodge calls for assistance, Samuel West heads out, but he, Callum Woodhouse, and Nicholas Ralph all have significant involvement in the A-plot as the episode progresses.

There are a lot of subplots going on—with the threat of imminent war (it’s Christmas 1938, after all) undergirding the whole episode. The subplots (not in order of importance): Woodhouse waiting for his exam results, which echoes back to last season’s Christmas special, Woodhouse and bartender love interest Mollie Winnard sort of reuniting for a rendezvous, housekeeper Anna Madeley’s proto-romance with now pal Will Thorp, West’s romance with Dorothy Atkinson (who’s barely in the episode but excellent as always), Ralph and Rachel Shenton talking about married practicalities, Ralph tending jerky farmer James Burrows’s cow, and, finally, Ralph and Shenton having two Christmas Day commitments. He promised Madeley they’d be having Christmas lunch with the practice; Shenton thought they were having lunch with her family; her little sister, Imogen Clawson, has been going all out putting it together.

Plus, Ralph waiting to talk to his parents on the phone, not having heard from mom Gabriel Quigley since he told her he wasn’t coming home to Glasgow in the last episode.

And it’s not even a particularly long Christmas special. It’s a few minutes longer than a regular episode, and half that time is the sentimental (albeit well-executed) Christmas tracking shots.

The practice is also throwing their annual Christmas party, which throws various characters together and helps their plots along, but it’s mostly background to the veterinary case with Tricki.

It’s a great episode for Hodge, who’s now entirely out of Diana Rigg’s shadow (it helps the character’s quite different), including her friendship with Ralph. Oh, and, of course, Ralph is terrorizing Woodhouse to find out about his exam results. I’m not sure there’s a wasted moment in the episode; they’ve got so much to get through.

A number of the plots just get stirred, so they don’t stick to the sides, arranging things for further development next season. As a result, the episode’s not exactly done in summary; it’s just in a hurry, starting with Ralph’s unkempt appearance when he goes out to Burrows’s farm on an emergency.

There’s lots of good acting from the cast, not just Hodge. Ralph, Woodhouse, Madeley, and Shenton all get some excellent scenes. Shenton once again is floundering between plot points, but they seem to have gotten it squared for next season. Unfortunately, there’s a little less development on Madeley’s romance—and the “should be a bombshell” revelation she’s still married; unless I’m forgetting something, the show always made it seem like she was a widow.

It’s a particularly good veterinary case, too, and not just because it’s the show’s most adorable regular animal. There are twists and turns, with West having to consult the other boys on medical treatment and best bedside practices. The show never gets saccharine about the plot either, which is impressive. Though it might seem like they could easily go that route because the patient’s obnoxiously cute.

As Christmas specials go—in general—it’s a good one, and as “All Creatures”’s actual season two finale, it’s a splendid capstone to the season. They did have that one stumble (well, two stumbles in one episode) without further unsteadiness. Next season’s going to be a lot—based on how they’ve paced the first two seasons, World War II’s breaking out in the last couple episodes of the regular season (September 1939)—but I’m expecting them to ably handle it.

All Creatures Great and Small (2020) s02e06 – Home Truths

This episode takes place in late September 1938. The episode opens with Nicholas Ralph and Rachel Shenton going to the movies and watching a newsreel about Chamberlain going to meet with Hitler. Shenton keeps telling Ralph not to worry about world events, which isn’t a great recommendation for taking Shenton’s advice.

The date’s not all doom and gloom, with a client, Mike Harding, amusingly hassling Ralph.

However, back home, Anna Madeley is similarly concerned with the possibility of war. She gets a bigger arc than usual, including going on what ought to be a romantic walk with love interest Will Thorp, except they instead talk about the looming conflict. Madeley’s worried her son will enlist for king and country. It’s a nice plot for Madeley, who rarely gets to talk to the veterinary boys about anything except them.

The main plot this episode is Ralph’s parents visiting. He hasn’t told mom Gabriel Quigley he won’t be going back to Glasgow, which the show also hasn’t expressly stated until this episode either. And it’ll turn out Ralph also didn’t tell some other folks he should’ve told about it. Waiting for him to break the news to his parents—which comes after another big announcement—is rather suspenseful, just because Ralph’s so bad at confrontation.

And decisiveness. Ralph’s other personal plot in this episode is the fallout from Samuel West telling him to hurry up and propose to Shenton, something Ralph hadn’t been planning on doing, what with Shenton leaving her last groom-to-be at the altar last season. It turns out to be a pretty good subplot for Shenton, who doesn’t get to talk through all of her feelings, but she does get to experience them on screen.

The veterinary case this episode is widow Amy Nuttall’s cows again. The episode breezes through her grazing land being infested with a parasite, and now they’re just worried about the cows having salmonella. The first scene with Nuttall and Ralph has a very brief recap of her last appearance and some catching up—the script, credited to Ben Vanstone, rushes through the specifics. Then it’s all fine, with the Nuttall plot working nicely into Ralph’s parents’ visit. It’s a nice redemption of Nuttall, who I dreaded after her last appearance, but that episode seems to be “All Creatures”’s season two (and series, actually) low point.

The main “house” subplot is whether or not Callum Woodhouse is going back to college to try for professional certification. Third time’s the charm, perhaps. West is pressuring him, Madeley’s telling West to leave him be, while Woodhouse is more concerned with finding a good home for a local stray. The stray story involves a local nomad, Frances Tomelty, who doesn’t see much point in veterinarians, and she and Woodhouse have a genially tense relationship. The story’s the most agency Woodhouse’s gotten on his own as a vet, which makes West’s ill-informed character attacks even more grating than usual. Intentionally and to good effect. There’s a lot of drama in the episode, even if the stakes are reasonably low.

Especially since they’re all set against the Munich Conference.

Quigley and Drew Cain (as Ralph’s dad) do particularly well in the episode, getting far better character material than ever before. Madeley, Shenton, Woodhouse, and Tony Pitts are the other acting highlights.

It’s a foreboding but reassuring—the great British resolve and all—close to the season. Well, save the Christmas special.

All Creatures Great and Small (2020) s02e05 – The Last Man In

There’s not much veterinary procedural this episode. The most significant medical case involves Samuel West attending Patricia Hodges’s Pekingese on a sensitive matter. The only other animal is a pedigree bull, which Matthew Lewis offers to ex-fiancée Rachel Shenton and her family as penance for trying to get them to do bull fraud last season. Lewis is finally back from France; the episode starts with Nicholas Ralph heading out to his estate to attend the bull… and avoid Lewis’s questions about Shenton.

Instead of animals—or even romance, though Ralph’s frequently jealous of the returned Lewis—the episode’s about cricket. It’s time for the annual match between the farmers and Lewis’s wealthy friends. Every year, Hodges hosts the match on her private cricket pitch. She’s a cricket fanatic, it turns out, which I suppose her previous appearance this season did suggest, but it still all feels like a retcon. Especially the revelation Callum Woodhouse was the star player for the farmers in last year’s match; Ralph must’ve arrived in the village at the only time Woodhouse wasn’t home visiting from university.

Speaking of university, Woodhouse and West are still on the outs because West lied to Woodhouse about passing his exams and letting him think he was a qualified vet. The annual match is for farmers and vets, and Woodhouse is eager to remind him he’s not a vet, leaving the team a man down. No explanation why he was playing last year… it must be vets and those enrolled in veterinary studies, not unlicensed but practicing vets.

Woodhouse isn’t the only one mad at West about the deception; Anna Madeley is more frustrated than usual with West’s obstinance.

She gets a very sweet, very gentle romance arc with returning Will Thorp, who doesn’t know anything about cricket but goes to the match because Madeley will be there (scoring the game, in fact). Their courtship this episode repeats a couple beats from Thorp’s last appearance but does them better this time. Debbie O’Malley gets the writer credit this episode, and the script’s very thorough in finishing its character arcs. Ralph’s jealousy, Shenton’s apprehension, Lewis’s return, the episode works through all of them, and some outstanding arcs (not just Madeley and Thorp). It also introduces some new ones; Lewis observes Ralph’s got to impress Shenton’s father, Tony Pitts, now, as he’s no longer just a prospective suitor, he’s her fellow.

The arc with Hodges and West involving the dog—ever adorable and newly rambunctious Tricki Woo (the only animal on the show to get an acting credit; he’s played by Derek)—is pure comedy and pure delight. Since the matter’s so delicate, the rest of the cast doesn’t even know about it. It’s a good showcase for Hodges, who gets more of her own character this episode out of Diana Rigg’s formidable shadow.

It’s also O’Malley’s script. I really wish she’d written Hodges’s first appearance.

The show’s lack of continuity perplexes instead of vexes: it’s got source material. Non-fiction source material. Whenever there’s a seeming retcon, I wonder if it’s from the book. However, those moments pass quickly as the show’s charm—especially when it’s got a good script—is overwhelming.

Standout performance this episode from Lewis. It’s also another good one for Shenton, who’s got both farmer and love interest arcs here.

And, obviously, Derek is indispensable.

All Creatures Great and Small (2020) s01e07 – The Night Before Christmas

“All Creatures” goes into its Christmas special with it being, well, a special Christmas even before the events of the episode. It’s going to be the (presumably) first time lead Nicholas Ralph goes home to Scotland to see his folks since he left in the first episode. Veterinary practice favorite patient’s owner Rachel Shenton is marrying her longtime beau, Matthew Lewis, on Christmas Day. Callum Woodhouse is expecting the results of his latest attempt at his exams. Anna Madeley has invited her estranged son to their Christmas party, and he seems like he’s going to make the trip. And finally, Samuel West is excited to see Madeley’s friend, Maimie McCoy, at the party and continue his romantic pursuit.

There are two veterinary cases in the episode. First, Ralph’s got a pregnant dog whose having some troubles, and then Woodhouse tends to a donkey with (life-threatening) indigestion. West briefly consults on Woodhouse’s case, but he’s so preoccupied with McCoy (and Woodhouse’s unknown exam results), he exits early. Also, West is just too much of an ass to the donkey’s owner, Jake Hayes. No pun intended.

Well, not initially.

Hayes is hesitant to trust Woodhouse because Hayes is Mollie Winnard’s little brother. She and Woodhouse had a summer fling, followed by her dumping him but mostly—apparently—because she thought he was going to dump her. All three men have a romantic arc in this episode, and all three of those arcs adjust where the series had left things. At the end of the season proper, McCoy did not share West’s level of romantic enthusiasm. Woodhouse had seemingly given up rekindling with Winnard. Only Ralph—who was very mopey about Shenton’s engagement and is still just as mopey—has a congruent arc.

I’m also curious how long it had been between shooting the regular season and this Christmas special. Presumably long enough for someone to decide they needed a more diverse quaint British village, even if it is 1937. Ralph’s mother-to-be dog’s owners are an adorable old interracial couple, Cleo Sylvestre and Dave Hill, whose backstory eventually becomes a plot point. Ralph’s got to go back out and check on the dog, with nervous bride-to-be Shenton tagging along to take her mind off the wedding. Sylvestre sees Ralph’s crush and shares her own story; if she and Hill could get over rural Yorkshire racism in the 1920s, surely Ralph can handle the social awkwardness of stealing Shenton away from Lewis.

The episode doesn’t get too saccharine or dramatic about the potential for scandalous behavior. Other than it being a short arc for Madeley, who apparently didn’t notice Ralph was mad-crushing on Shenton either, not until Woodhouse tells her, and it’s then entirely inappropriate Shenton accompanied him on a call. Woodhouse alternates between gossiping and teasing on the subject, depending on who’s in the scene with him.

The special runs about ten minutes longer than a regular episode, which is fine since the finale has a couple endings. There’s the initial resolution (and set up for next season), then there’s a Christmas Day finish, complete with the king’s speech on the radio. It’s like a regular episode, but they kept going for a couple more dramatic beats.

In addition to the more diverse village—West holds the big Christmas party partially as advertising for the veterinary practice, and there’s a Black guest—the special also makes Woodhouse and West a lot cuter. West’s whole nervous thing with courting McCoy, Woodhouse bonding with Hayes, they’re both more generally agreeable than ever before.

Maybe it’s the Christmas spirit.

Madeley, unfortunately, gets the worst arc. She ends up supporting everyone else’s arc at one point or another, including McCoy, before doing a backstory reveal close to the end of the episode. Unfortunately, there’s not time to do anything more with it because it’s Christmas Day, and almost none of the episode’s initial problems have been solved. The show handles the dramatics beautifully, though director Andy Hay gives it away when there’s a country driving sequence without the “toot toot” enthusiasm the show’s always had before.

It’s a lovely Christmas special. I’m very curious how far away from these events—most will have significant repercussions—next season will pick up.

All Creatures Great and Small (2020) s01e06 – A Cure for All Ills

“All Creatures” has a very nice close for season one proper, which isn’t really a surprise; the show’s always nice. What’s so impressive about that quality is the show never gets saccharine about it. It’s full of British derring-do, just in a setting where that derring-do doesn’t, you know, go a-colonizing. Also, Samuel West. This episode, in particular, shows how important West is to maintaining the tone. He’s a sympathetic, good-hearted ass; West does a phenomenal job with that part. He spends most of the episode with a man cold, only refusing to acknowledge it until he can’t stay upright.

The episode begins following up the previous, with Nicholas Ralph heading out to less and less likely love interest Rachel Shenton’s farm as they send off their once prize bull for the slaughterhouse. Last episode, Ralph had to go back on vouching for the animal; he failed Shenton for principled reasons. The visit—and the vouching—will play into the main plot later on as Ralph finds himself in a not dissimilar predicament.

The visit also forces Ralph to see Shenton’s more enthusiastic romance with Matthew Lewis. It upsets Ralph so much he’s willing to let Callum Woodhouse set up a double date with some nurses (Harriet Slater and Charlie May-Clark). The setup’s actually a welcome development; at the beginning of the episode, it seems like Ralph’s just going to mope over Shenton the whole time.

Unfortunately, some of the reason he’s not moping over a broken heart is because of the main plot. Another animal he inspected at the fair last episode—a cow—has developed a breathing problem, and there might not be anything to be done about it. It’s the only significant medical case this episode and the most involved one on the show so far, eventually involving the entire regular cast. Anna Madeley steps in with a very simple gesture at one point, and it’s incredibly affecting. There are no stakes to the case but empathetic ones, to the suffering cow, to the potentially suffering owner (widower Alexis Platt, who spent his entire savings on the animal).

But Ralph’s veterinary procedural plot is somewhat secondary to the house-based stuff. The show’s balance between Ralph, the undeniable protagonist, and the rest of the cast is sublime. Though this episode’s a little different because the house-based story is often focused on him, even when he’s not there. Especially when he’s not there. Madeley and Woodhouse find out it’s Ralph’s birthday coming up and plan a celebration. Unfortunately, Woodhouse is ignoring his exams, which sends sick West on numerous tirades.

While the episode’s set up for Ralph to have the big arc, Woodhouse’s plot is the more effective. Ralph’s contending with reality, Woodhouse acknowledges and overcomes his own failings. And doing so under fire—West’s incredibly nasty when sick. It’s also the least showy part in the episode. Woodhouse does very well here.

There’s a little more with Shenton in the second half of the episode. While the episode doesn’t try to wrap up too much in the season finale, it’s definitely aware some elements need to get settled. Thanks to the plotting, the episode gets to do a couple resolution scenes, with the second one putting the cast and show nicely (of course) to bed for the season.

All Creatures Great and Small (2020) s01e04 – A Tricki Case

No causes for concern or alarm this episode, and not just because Diana Rigg’s back. Even with the village still talking about how Nicholas Ralph handled the sick horse last episode, he seems cemented in the community. Though there is one significant eyebrow raise with Callum Woodhouse. Turns out he might not be a regular cast member after all; his arc in this episode is all about getting money for university out of big brother Samuel West. West’s determined to make Woodhouse prove he’s worth the investment this time, which leads to Woodhouse volunteering to monitor Rigg’s adorable Pekingese.

Once again, everyone in the veterinary practice gets an arc, though Ralph and Woodhouse get the big ones. For instance, pretty much everything West does this episode is support on someone else’s arc. There’s a major subplot about Rigg sending over a box of (human food) treats for her dog when Ralph takes the dog back for observation. And to keep Rigg from overfeeding, obviously. Both West and Woodhouse find it difficult not to help themselves to the treats, which messes up housekeeper Anna Madeley’s plans for an elaborate dinner. At the start of the episode, she gets some concerning personal news and keeps it to herself (from both the boys and the audience). West figures out something’s going on and offers to help.

Woodhouse also has a little arc with bartender girlfriend, Mollie Winnard, who accidentally sleeps over, and there’s an elaborate comedy sequence getting her out of the house.

Speaking of romance, Ralph’s main medical case involves Rachel Shenton’s bull, who’s supposed to be studding at farmer Jon Furlong’s. Only the bull’s disinterested in the lovely cow lasses, so Ralph’s got to get him functional again, or Shenton’s family won’t get the payday. Shenton’s relationship with local landed gentry Matthew Lewis comes back into play, as it turns out they’re a lot more involved than she made Ralph think last episode. Not giving a timeline for Woodhouse’s immediate future last episode is one thing, but Shenton letting Ralph think she and Lewis weren’t quite romantic is another. Lewis’s stopped on the bridge with a flat and is too rich to have ever learned to change a tire; when Ralph and Shenton happen across him, Lewis’s first or second move is to caress Shenton’s posterior as Ralph’s heart breaks a little.

It’s a surprise but shouldn’t be.

Anyway.

We finally get to meet Shenton’s dad later on, played by Tony Pitts. Shenton finds out some of the patients’ owners cook meals and treats for the vets and wants to try her hand at it for Ralph. It’s a funny sequence, starting with Pitts not knowing why Ralph’s loitering around his farm.

However, the main plot—outside Ralph being the show’s protagonist—is Woodhouse dog-sitting the Pekingese. It’s hilarious. Rigg’s got a handful of scenes, which start comedic and then get a little more dramatic as the episode carries on. Even though she absurdly pampers this absurdly adorable dog, the show goes out of its way to acknowledge she’s going through a lack of companionship arc. It’s a really good episode for Rigg.

Also, for Woodhouse, who’s got to stay active even though it’s all about his lack of agency.

The finale’s particularly affecting; West’s only medical case this episode is Sean Carlsen’s giant, ferocious dog (contrasting Rigg’s adorable little one). It eventually ties in with Woodhouse’s arc and echoes the companionship theme.

While there are some intense emotions throughout, the episode works its way to a very nice resolution. The amount of positive sentiment the show gets from everyone being empathetic to animals is immeasurable.

My Life Is Murder (2019) s02e02 – Oceans Apart

On the one hand, the previous episode spent a lot of time reuniting Lucy Lawless and sidekick Ebony Vagulans to break them up here; this episode, Vagulans has hurt her leg while at a water park trying to stay cool because Lawless won’t get an air conditioner. So Vauglans is in the apartment for all her scenes, including a great one with copper Rawiri Jobe, while Lawless is out investigating the possible murder of a surfer.

And, so, on the other hand, the show all of a sudden does some actual character development on Lawless. We get a somewhat non-sequitur backstory anecdote, but they’re able to get a bunch of material from it. Reasoning behind Lawless’s behavior. She’s not eccentric, short-tempered, or rude; she’s traumatized. Obviously, the show’s constantly reminding Lawless is a widow, but it doesn’t really establish her being any different when she wasn’t one.

Of course, the change in scenery has a bunch to do with it. The backstory is particular to the case—turns out Lawless’s Aussie ex-copper is actually a dual citizen who spent at least summers in Auckland in her youth. She gets defensive about it when talking to Jobe. Lawless is actually a New Zealand native and is one of the show’s executive producers, so maybe she wanted to showcase home. And “My Life is Murder” is a definite showcase of New Zealand. It’s unbelievably beautiful and rather cool-looking in terms of architecture. I hope the film commission kicks the show some bucks or tax breaks for the commercial.

Though, what with the gorgeous scenery, the bread-baking, and the endless stream of hot dudes, “My Life is Murder” is kind of like Lawless’s “Eat, Pray, Love.” Plus, the added frustration of mentoring Vauglans.

The mystery this time is dead surfer Connor Johnston, who leaves behind a pregnant girlfriend—social influencer Courtenay Louise, who’s perfectly obnoxious in the part. Jobe’s able to prey on Lawless’s widow sympathy to get her on the case (Lawless doesn’t like the beach), only for Lawless to discover Louise isn’t exactly grieving. She’s too busy preparing her brand for the memorial service, barking orders at suffering kid sister Molly Leishman and making eyes at George Mason. Mason, the lifeguard who didn’t save drowning Johnston, is also a rival suffer who Johnston beat the year before in the nationals or whatever. Oh, and he and Louise used to be hot and heavy. So Lawless has a bunch to unravel to get to the eventually somewhat geeky solution.

The beginning is pretty pat and cheesy as far as genial murder mystery shows go, but it definitely picks up throughout thanks to Lawless and the other actors.

My Life Is Murder (2019) s02e01 – Call of the Wild

One can only feel so bleeding edge TV hip when watching shows from other countries when it turns out they’ve actually changed countries, and one—c’est moi—has no idea. This season of “My Life is Murder” takes place in Auckland, which is in New Zealand. Last season took place in Melbourne (Australia)—also, the whole “Mel-bin” pronunciation thing for Americans is just a white working-class “Barthelona”; rant over.

So now retired copper, widow, and artisan bread-baker Lucy Lawless is now in Auckland. She’s got a great apartment, she’s got her cat, she’s baking bread for a trendy eatery with a hot owner, all she needs now is some murder. Police detective Rawiri Jobe obliges, bringing Lawless a case to consult on.

Grieving recent widow and local shop-owner Robyn Malcolm gets up one morning and shoots her neighbor, Peter Feeney, five or six times during his morning run in front of witnesses. But something about the case just doesn’t sit right with Jobe, and he doesn’t want to put an innocent person in prison. New Zealand cops are such cucks, am I right? Just shoot her dead in her bed and be done with it.

Lawless can’t look into it on her own, so she calls up old assistant Ebony Vagulans for help. Vagulans flies over straightaway—wanting to escape her overbearing, omnipresent family—and starts inserting herself into Lawless’s life. But together, they’ll figure out what’s really going on and make sure the right people are punished. Because it’s a cozy mystery show with an edge, though that edge is just Lawless. Without her—and maybe some of the setting’s trendiness—“Murder” would barely have a pulse. Conventionally attractive or appealing white people with accents get into trouble and end up turning to murder because otherwise, there wouldn’t be a story. But thanks to Lawless, there’s a bite to it. Even though she’s not actually mean or even short-tempered. In fact, she’s full of empathy.

She just finds Vagulans cloying, which is fine; Vagulans being a little cloying—even if it’s justified cloying because Lawless is so cool—is just part of the show’s charm. Vagulans and Lawless don’t exactly banter. Instead, they argue, Lawless wins the argument, Vagulans gets in a final zinger, then Lawless waits a bit and acquiesces because they’re actually a good team. Even if Lawless doesn’t want to be a mentor.

The mystery resolve is a stretch, but it doesn’t really matter. Besides Malcolm, the victim’s wife, Hannah Marshall, and flirty neighbor, David de Lautour, figure into the mix. Besides hot shopkeep Joe Naufahu and detective Jobe, everyone in this episode’s New Zealand is white. Murder amongst the colonizers is actually the standard for the mystery genre going back to Sherlock Holmes.

Anyway.

It’s engaging enough, and Lawless is an excellent lead. She doesn’t constantly try her hardest—especially when flirting with dudes—but she’s a great lead.