Reviews

The previous episode did a terrific job establishing Strange as a potential villain. He abandoned all sense of propriety and hygiene, stumbled about Italy trying to go mad, did go mad after eating a rotten mouse, and perfected an evil villain laugh, promising his nemesis Mr. Norrell: "I am coming." In the finale, an emotional prelude by Sir Walter Pole brings Strange's fury crashing back and underlines the hopelessness of the situation.

Miraculously, Christopher Drawlight manages to deliver one of Strange's messages before being brutally murdered by his former pal, Henry Lascelles. Lascelles then joins Mr. Norrell, who has retreated to Hurtfell Abbey and gotten lost in his own library.

Technically, that last bit isn't his fault, because Strange has turned the Abbey into an enchanted maze where he plans to face his former tutor. The confrontation will find Mr. Norrell alone, for Childermass, discovering Lascelles' treachery, confronts him and is subsequently thrown out on his ear. Joab-like, Childermass delivers a harsh rebuke: "You've made the wrong choice, sir, as usual," before departing with a final warning to Lascelles: "You are in the North now. Our laws were made by the Raven King...And he's coming back."

Also coming back is Jonathan Strange, and you've got admit, the man knows how to make an entrance. Descending amidst a flurry of ravens and a huge black tornado, it seems Mr. Norrell may, for the first time ever, be right to be afraid. And yet no! For when Jonathan appears, ragged and wild eyed and vengeful, he offers nothing but exhausted forgiveness. The shock and grace of it, coming from the only person Norrell loves (and yet the one whom he has harmed the most) is the stroke which finally spurs him to heroism.

It also elicits a flood of sentimental confessions from both men: Strange's tome is the best book of magic ever, Norrell is a great magician, Strange is a better magician, it's been an honor working with Norrell...there are so many man-bonding moments that they begin to grow a little stale. But Marsan and Carvel pack so much talent, emotion, and even humor into their tense shared screen-time that it's hard to mind.

Overdoing it does become more of a problem as the episode progresses. Both of the marginalized, voiceless characters blatantly reference their freedom, in scenes which are obviously designed for cheers from a modern audience, but which feel a bit unsubtle (hey! look! themes!). I'm more than willing to cut the show-runners some slack - after all, their restraint so far has bordered on the superhuman - but the adoption of the Hollywood tendency to intensify and extend a finale (I'm looking at you Peter Jackson) is disappointing.

When the Raven King appears, he's almost lost in the sound and fury. Physically, he looks like a cross between Durza in that 2006 Eragon movie and a lost member of Black Sabbath. His brief cameo, facing the two magicians then whisking off to write a new prophecy and reanimate Vinculus.

We get no time to digest this because Strange and Norrell are back at work, feeling that their first attempt failed. For Take 2, they plan to use the Raven King's other moniker, "the nameless slave." The spell will channel all of English magic into this one person.

As it happens, the conditions they set apply far more to Stephen Black (shocker!), who's currently cooling his heels in the madhouse cellar. Thanks to Childermass's pickpocketing skills, Sir Walter now knows the truth, but Stephen is still unable to fight the Gentleman's silencing enchantment. Sir Walter immediately throws his butler under the bus, or in this case, into the cellar. All of this means that Stephen's warning comes too late: Segundus reattaches Lady Pole's missing finger and releases her from Lost-Hope before she can help Jonathan Strange rescue his wife.

In the meantime, Strange and Norrell have assembled the magic and successfully made Sir Walter Pole's butler the greatest magician in England. Another confrontation results in the death of both Lascelles and Stephen's earthly self - but then the dynamic duo discover their new king is still living in Faerie. Seeing that their original intent has failed, they try and make the best of the situation by spiriting themselves to Lost-Hope and instructing Stephen Black on his new abilities. At the same time, Strange frees Arabella with True Love's Kiss and sends her home before Stephen Black lays down the law and kills the Gentleman.

There are tons of loose-ends to tie up, but the episode gamely attempts it in the final ten minutes. Lady Pole rejects Sir Walter and goes abroad. Stephen Black (a fact implied but not demonstrated) becomes King of Lost-Hope. Arabella Strange is safe, but both of our titular characters are lost in the chasm, presumably forever. Childermass and Vinculus (a match made in heaven) establish the new, wild, democratic form of magic in Yorkshire.

And...finis.

Phew. That was a wild ride, but it was a good one. The finale invented too many hoops for its heroes to jump through, and shifted the focus from a semi-deific intervention to human ingenuity, yet there's still just tons of quality here. Both Eddie Marsan and Bertie Carvel throw themselves into towering performances, running the gamut from terror to hatred to reconciliation to humor and exhilaration...they do everything. The first half of the episode is pretty much perfect television. And while I have my quibbles about the second half, it's a solid, if rushed, conclusion to the best fantasy adaptation we've seen since The Lord of the Rings. I don't know about everyone else, but I'm totally up for Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell Ride Again.

Originally posted here: http://goo.gl/iF8ycv

This episode started off with a bang as Jonathan Strange returns to the battlefield, finally breaking his own rule about killing by magic - and thereby losing a piece of his soul (merely a metaphor, Harry Potter fans). But while the Napoleonic wars are over, another battle is brewing on the home front. In the North a Raven King-supporting brand of Luddites (Johannites, they call themselves) are raising Cain, which gives credence to Mr. Norrell's request to censor Strange's upcoming Magic in 5 Easy Steps for People Of Whom Norrell Disapproves.

Arabella, meanwhile, is spirited off by Stephen Black in a magic carriage, only to be replaced by an impostor who fools Strange into accepting the enchantment, and who dies the next day. Strange refuses to accept this, determining to raise her from the dead, and spends most of the rest of the episode either a) trying to convince Norrell to help, or b) work up the courage to do the zombie-magic instead. At last, Arabella's brother Henry knocks some sense into him, pointing out that pre-Revelation resurrections don't tend to work out so great.

Upon arriving at Lost-Hope, Arabella has her memory wiped, and forgets anything of her life before. Losing her only friend nearly destroys Lady Pole, but Segundus and Honeyfoot - private investigators, erstwhile magicians, blunderbuss wielders - have been doing a bit of gumshoe work. Segundus knows that something is preventing Black and Lady Pole from telling the truth, and he's beginning to discover that there is a method to Lady Pole's mad stories. They're in the midst of deciphering them when Vinculus arrives, ready to prophesy at a moment's notice: "The nameless slave was a king in a strange country..." Stephen Black is rather creeped out.

The intriguing Childermass continues to work behind the scenes. He's having to try harder now, because he's working against Lascelles, who has Mr. Norrell wrapped around his little finger. In fact, it is Lascelles that convinces Norrell to rebuff Strange's desperate pleas for help. Childermass and Strange, on the other hand, hit it off - to the point that Strange offers Childermass a job. The Yorkshireman seems to consider it, but concludes that it's up to him to keep English magic competitive, and promises to ally himself to whoever seems on the losing side. It may be a wise decision, because neither Norrell nor Strange are in the right state of mind to hold a monopoly on power (spoiler alert for life: there is no right state of mind to hold a monopoly on power).

And by the end of the story, it's definitely looking like war. A bedraggled Strange breaks into Mr. Norrell's house and is carted off to prison, where he concludes that the only way to really tap into powerful magic is to embrace madness - taking a page out of George III's book. (Apparently we will not be having a romantic interlude in Italy.) Drawlight, moldering in prison, overhears this and dons a sneaky expression.

This episode cleverly expanded two elements which didn't entirely make sense in the book. While Jonathan welcomes Fake Arabella back to the house, we simultaneously see what's happened to real Arabella (a good narrative clarification.) Next, Jonathan isn't as sanguine when Fake Arabella "dies," which will add meaning later in the story. Finally, it's explained why the government doesn't mind Norrell's private censorship.

Overall - this episode seemed a little less adventurous than usual, but foreshadows a pretty interesting conflict.

It's 1806, and magic has been dead in England for hundreds of years. So say the estimable Learned Society of York Magicians, but this declaration is turned on its head by the arrival of a powerful, fearsome practical magician, Mr. Norrell (Eddie Marsan). He offers them a deal: if he can make good on his claims to do real magic, then they must relinquish any right to study magic themselves. The ultimatum is a massive piece of foreshadowing. Norrell's success does not allow for sharing. He's not interested in democracy (of course not, he isn't one of those blasted French Republicans, is he?)

Admittedly, the competition is not very stiff. There are plenty of charlatans, and the few that aren't are limited to merely a spell or two. It is unclear whether Vinculus (Paul Kaye) is the former or the latter. When Norrell flees his first claustrophobic experience of London society he runs straight into the arms of ragged Vinculus, who delivers an incoherent prophecy about another magician in England. Who could it be? Wisely, the adaptation introduces this second magician earlier than the book. It's no surprise that he's the other titular character: Jonathan Strange (Bertie Carvel).

Strange is performing his first simple feat of magic while Norrell is summoning up a fairy gentleman (the ever eerie Marc Warren, who has appeared in Poirot, Band of Brothers, and The Hogfather) to resurrect a prominent politician's fiancée (y'know, like you do). The act will cement his reputation as England's go-to magician, but like most enchantments, there's always a catch...

Let's start by saying the cast is terrific. Eddie Marsan, who has always looked a bit like a smug turtle, is smugger than ever here. I would really say his performance is my favorite (and acting is good all-round). He's a million miles away from his other notable roles - Norrell lacks the bluster of Pancks in Little Dorrit or the blue- collar heartiness of Lestrade in Sherlock Holmes (not to mention the wild ramblings of the mad prophet in The New World). I think his (mostly) understated performance will form a solid anchor to the series.

Meanwhile, Enzo Cilenti makes for a smoldering Childermass. Norrell's reticent servant is the real mover and shaker in the campaign to bring magic back to England. Cilenti turns up the Aragorn, sulking around in corners, propping up his booted feet on a table while smoking a long pipe. He makes for a suitably mysterious and sinister henchman.

He's about the sexiest member of the cast, who, to put it in period drama terms, are far more in the Pride and Prejudice 95 line than the Pride and Prejudice and Keira Knightley line. But that's a good thing. This is a miniseries geared towards fans of the book: those patient enough to slog through pages and pages of scholarly tedium in order to enjoy its dry wit and complex alternate history. In other words, the type to look for P&P 95.

If anyone was going to be the handsome one, it would have been young Jonathan Strange, but Carvel's Strange is a horsey, lanky aristocrat, stumbling around in the plot of a missing Austen novel. He romances the sensible (and certainly handsome) clergyman's daughter, Arabella Woodhope (Charlotte Riley), promising to mend his flaws and become an upstanding member of society . The whole Gothic magic thing is fun, but Strange's romcom life is a good counterbalance to the fairly grim Norrell storyline.

I'm not entirely sold on the CGI. It looks great for a small-screen production, yet the simple stuff still seems to pack more punch. Marc Warren's Gentleman is disturbing, but I wonder if the effects they use to make his voice more menacing will become distracting as the series goes on (the guy really does sound creepy enough as it is).

Originally posted here: http://www.longview95.blogspot.com/2015/05/jonathan-strange-and-mr- norrell-episode.html

One of the best things about magic in the world of Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell is that it doesn't fix things as if...well, as if by magic. It is a tool like any other, and usually less helpful than most. The mechanics are kept vague for most of the story (as I recall from the book: when there are any specifics, they're wrapped in a semi- scholarly debate about something which sounds a little like HTML code.) Magic doesn't exist in a vacuum. It neither creates nor destroys matter, but merely rearranges it, in the process staying true to Newton's third law: creating an equal and opposite reaction.

Mr. Norrell is learning this the hard way in the case of the newly resurrected Lady Pole. It seems that half a life is not better than a life. The fairy Gentleman has decided to exact his toll by spiriting Lady Pole away each night to dance in his ghostly kingdom of Lost- Hope. He's also extending his influence to the rest of Sir Walter Pole's establishment.

The Gentleman admires Sir Walter's butler's services so much that he takes him to Lost-Hope as well. Poor Stephen Black - ever-mannerable - protests at the Gentleman's "kindness," and, Jeeves-like, bemoans the disorder of the enchanted household.

Jonathan Strange, meanwhile, is persuaded by Messrs. Segundus and Honeyfoot to ally himself to Mr. Norrell. While both are rather standoffish at first, Norrell is surprised to find himself delighted at Strange's innovative magic. The two hit it off and get along like a house on fire.

Strange's wife Arabella isn't quite sure what to make of this. Things are hunky-dory at first, but quickly the differences in the two men's temperament - Norrell conservative and hidebound, Strange experimental and arrogant - evince themselves in their methods. Norrell wordlessly creates an invisible barrier around England; Strange theatrically assembles magical horses out of sand to dramatically rescue a ship wrecked on the transparent veil.

On a smaller level, Norrell and Strange begin to irk one another. While Norrell welcomes Strange's friendship, he can barely bring himself to let the younger man access his precious books. On the other hand, Strange quickly becomes frustrated with Norrell's timidity, and wishes to delve into the dark secrets of the Raven King.

Arabella notes these differences with trepidation, and her worry is only exacerbated by meeting loopy Lady Pole, who is unable to tell her anything but that Mr. Norrell has ruined her life. Arabella tries to convey this to Strange, but he pooh-poohs her fears and heads off to fight Napoleon for Harry, England, and St. George.

As for that, the incident with the ship means the government is suddenly keen to have a magician on the battlefield - an idea which Mr. Norrell finds very unrespectable. It seems like Norrell may prevent Strange's going, but Lascelles and Drawlight acquire his permission by cleverly pitting his greed against his fear.

Much of the humor in this episode stems from the adventures of Norrell's chalk-and-cheese henchmen, but Bertie Carvel's Strange is proving himself quite amusing as well. The amount of lightheartedness is surprising (and very well-handled - it could easily come from the amusing domesticity of an Austen story), and given the freakishness of the Lost-Hope storyline, it's interesting how well it transitions between the two. Speaking of Lost-Hope, this section of the episode is simply stunning. The effects, the lighting, the clingy dancers, Marc Warren (who dominates this episode) - all of it is splendidly creepy and full of decrepit grandeur. If I was a bit worried last week, the CGI magic in this story has completely won me over, from the simple scrying spells to the rainships to the marvelous scene with the horses of sand.

The final scene illustrates one of the things this series has done best: combining plot elements to simultaneously abridge the story and ratchet intensity in otherwise mundane scenes. It seems like a simple humorous sequence, as Arabella attempts to outbid the amusingly panicked Mr. Norrell. But the whole atmosphere of the scene changes when the Gentleman appears, glowering, over Arabella's shoulder. What does it mean? Can others see him? Why is he interested in Arabella? A marvelous cliffhanger.

Originally posted here: http://www.longish95.blogspot.com/2015/05/jonathan-strange-and-mr- norrell-episode_25.html

This show remains ridiculously entertaining. It's the most beautiful fantasy world I've seen in ages, bar Miyazaki. The effects are staggering, and the story intelligently told. True: this episode shows a few more missteps than the previous two, but the final scene still leaves me hungry for more.

Last week, the Gentleman had become fascinated by Arabella Strange, which now means stalking her while she visits the increasingly erratic Lady Pole. Arabella intuits that something here is very wrong, but neither Lady Pole nor Stephen Black can tell her the truth.

It isn't for lack of trying. Lady Pole makes a tapestry of Lost-Hope and attempts to show Arabella what is going on. Even this attempt is sabotaged by Mr. Norrell, who's definitely starting to show his nasty side. With the aid of Childermass, he destroys Lady Pole's tapestry and intercepts Arabella and Jonathan's correspondence.

Speaking of which, Strange has arrived on the continent, only to find himself suddenly persona non grata. The Duke of Wellington (Ronan Vibert) is resolutely nonplussed by Strange's resume, and even less impressed by the idea of magic (a practical man, the Duke.) Vibert (who I've seen play everyone from Robespierre to Motty in Jeeves and Wooster), is tremendously fun in the role, though he's nothing like what I imagined. He isn't as brusque or heartily military as my mental image, but he does convey a terrific no-nonsense pragmatism and refuses to let wonder-boy Strange bully him.

Instead, Jonathan finds that he must prove himself, and starts the process by earning the trust of the men. (Unfortunately, we don't see the marvelous little scene where a clergyman guides Strange in how to do this - I find it unlikely that he would have come up with the idea on his own.) Next, armed with practical information, Strange offers to do something really constructive for Wellington: build a road.

Bertie Carvel has correctly observed (in a conversation which gives me complete faith in the intelligence of JS&MN's creative team) that the particular charm of the series's magic is that it is "lo-fi." It's far more Lord of the Rings than Harry Potter (a very good thing, in my book.) In this episode, without too many sparks and extravagance, Strange builds a road, creates a white mist, speaks to trees, and then - the one misstep - reanimates Neapolitan zombies. He's driven to the last by his first real exposure to gritty war, which results in the loss of Jeremy Johns. The sequence is suitably eerie, but the effect is hardly subtle. I found Lost-Hope's particular brand of freaky more in keeping with the tone.

Still, with the loss of Norrell's books coinciding with his foray into dangerous sorcery, we're seeing that Strange has left behind the safety of scholarly "modern" magic. Wellington may be pleased, but it's wrought a definite change in Jonathan. As some who's read the book, it seems to me this shift is coming too early. Strange's motivation for his actions has changed - in the book, he did the dark magic because he was foolish and arrogant. Here, Johns' death makes him more sympathetic, because it has taught him a measure of humility. Strange does change: he learns what real life is like. War, hardship, the need for ingenuity to survive, and the fact that people will do anything for a potato. He comes back with a new name for a new life: "Merlin." It's his Empire of the Sun experience.

Meanwhile, things in London are heating up. Stephen Black - attempting to salvage a bad situation - tries to warn Arabella away, but to no avail. Even so, she rebuffs the Gentleman's advances, refusing to talk to him without the "presence of my husband."

Lady Pole continues her attempts to escape the enchantment - even by suicide. At last, her hopes are dashed when Norrell informs her she must live seventy more years. Enraged, she tries to assassinate him, and another servant takes a bullet for his master.

Stephen Black, on the other hand, probably won't be taking a bullet for his master any time soon. He has finally learned - if not the fact (surely he must have known), then at least the magnitude - of his mother's tragedy. And the Gentleman, who is explicitly called "the devil" in this episode, shows this horrifying backstory to Stephen, doing everything he can to corrupt the butler. It's a fascinating story element - it is archaic because of its mythological resonance - a righteous commoner being tempted to evil - it is modern because the commoner is African. Knitting together these two sensibilities is Susanna Clarke at her best.

If that sounds grim, that's because it is. The story has taken a turn towards the dark, with one death, three zombies, a possibly fatal gunshot wound, Lady Pole's insanity, and the tendency for all the powers that be to look the other way while the world goes to hell. Is there any hope of stopping the Gentleman before it's too late?

Originally posted here: http://www.longish95.blogspot.com/2015/06/jonathan-strange-and-mr- norrell-episode.html

What do you do if you accidentally magic away the king of England? Happily for Jonathan Strange, the answer is not to panic. The first item on his agenda after returning from fortune and glory in France is to visit mad George III. He is accompanied by a reluctant Mr. Norrell, who, after last week's violent finale, is more concerned than ever to preserve magic's reputation as "respectable."

Poor Childermass is not so worried. In fact, he's quickly coming to the conclusion that real magic is not respectable at all, but dangerous and very much out of Norrell's control. Jonathan Strange, fresh from the fury of war, has a third opinion. Magic is dangerous, yes, but of what use is it- or any field of practice - if there is no room for experimentation, for daring?

On the other hand, Lady Pole is a living breathing example of daring gone wrong. Afraid of scandal, Norrell has her bundled off to Segundus-and-Honeyfoot's erstwhile school of magic, now a makeshift mad-house. This means there's now no chance that she can tell the truth about her predicament, and there is real poignancy as the door is closed on her unheeded screams.

But perhaps there is hope. After Childermass - doing a bit of detective work - is turned away by Honeyfoot (now that was a fun scene), Segundus begins to detect the aura of magic around both Lady Pole and Stephen Black. Could he discover the answer?

Meanwhile, Strange and Norrell are having very little success with the king. It doesn't take long for Norrell to give up. As they leave the palace, Strange notices a picture of John Uskglass, the Raven King. Norrell scorns Uskglass, but the war has taught Strange to think independently, and he wonders if Uskglass's magic is so perilous after all. With that thought in mind, he visits the king alone, and accidentally renders a mirror permeable, allowing crazy George to pass through onto a Northern road in the middle of nowhere.

It's an incredibly clever combination of three different story lines (combining several scenes from the book), as Strange discovers the mirror-world, the Gentleman discovers Strange, and we're reminded of Stephen's "destiny" to become king of England, when the Gentleman makes him an unwilling would-be regicide. Thinking fast, Strange cobbles together some experimental magic and spirits the Archtreasurer and Prince-elector of the Holy Roman Empire (O the possible alternatives, when one is reviewing a show with a king as a character) back into the room, just in time to thwart his murder.

In the midst of this drama, the great Edward Petherbridge steals the show, adding some Shakespearean style to proceedings (Petherbridge is always excellent - he's best known as the definitive on-screen Wimsey, but his Youtube channel is also fun.)

Armed with his new knowledge, Strange attempts to replicate the Duke of Brunswick and Lüneburg's (see? this is fun!) passage through the mirror, but is only successful when an odd pair of northerners put him to the test. They claim to have been tutored via post by none other than Strange himself. Having never met Strange, they refuse to believe his true identity until he proves it by walking through a mirror.

He comes out in a bizarre, stormy alternate reality, criss-crossed by black roads, each of them leading to another mirror. Fortuitously, he finds his way directly to Christopher Drawlight, who, it turns out, has been swindling half of England, claiming to give them exclusive access to Strange's tutelage. It may be the most humorous part of the episode when Strange chases Drawlight downstairs (well, right after "I could only find walnuts").

Less amusing is Arabella's response. She's worried that her husband's arrogance may lead him into foolishness, and tells him so in no uncertain terms. Ironically, she's now on Norrell's side, because he has no use whatsoever for magic roads or hidden worlds. The combination of this and Strange's scathing review of Lascelles' Norrell hagiography has at last driven a wedge between the two magicians. In a poignant final scene, Norrell(!) is the one who tries to repair the relationship, but it is too late. Strange departs. "There can only be one magician in England," Norrell tells Lascelles sadly. "We must now consider him our enemy."

Back in fairyland, the Gentleman is putting the finishing touches on his evil plans to abduct Arabella. Arabella herself only enjoys a few moments of peace, when Jonathan tells her he has decided to abandon practical magic, before they are informed of Napoleon's escape. Just when he thought he was out, the war pulls him back in (get it? get it?).

This episode was a return to domestic affairs, and felt a bit slow after last week's excitement, but it charged through a solid chunk of plot, and admirably balanced hurried exposition with quietude (Norrell and Strange's parting was very well handled), and leavened the whole thing with a healthy dose of dry humor. I often start in on an episode ambivalent, distracted by Monday's schoolwork, but by the end, I'm always drawn into its world. And that's the mark of a fine drama.

Next week, Waterloo!

Originally posted here: http://www.longish95.blogspot.com/2015/06/jonathan-strange-and-mr- norrell-episode_8.html