A superbly-acted adaptation of Sarah Waters' novel, hobbled somewhat by the tacky mid-2000s BBC aesthetic (the editing is almost spastic at times) and the sense that 3 hours was somehow both too much and not enough time to tell this tale. Then again, "The Handmaiden" - which I've yet to see - is nearly as long. Maybe it finds the right balance.
The incredible chemistry between Sally Hawkins and Elaine Cassidy carries the first episode, so of course the second can only suffer in comparison, but what I really wanted was time for scenes to breathe and unfold. There's so much plot to cover that the pace becomes frantic, with increasingly loopy twist upon twist, when all I care about is seeing these two find each other (again). Every furtive glance, every time they dare to even try being honest with their words, is more riveting than who is conning who at any given moment.
Back when I reviewed "Portrait of a Lady on Fire," I suggested that no film in the English language could ever evoke the feel of love and passion the way the French do. (Get outta here with your BS, "Ammonite.") This is not the exception to that rule, but damn if it doesn't come close.
The incredible chemistry between Sally Hawkins and Elaine Cassidy carries the first episode, so of course the second can only suffer in comparison, but what I really wanted was time for scenes to breathe and unfold. There's so much plot to cover that the pace becomes frantic, with increasingly loopy twist upon twist, when all I care about is seeing these two find each other (again). Every furtive glance, every time they dare to even try being honest with their words, is more riveting than who is conning who at any given moment.
Back when I reviewed "Portrait of a Lady on Fire," I suggested that no film in the English language could ever evoke the feel of love and passion the way the French do. (Get outta here with your BS, "Ammonite.") This is not the exception to that rule, but damn if it doesn't come close.