We applaud the ambition and scope of this drama, we really do, but... does anyone remember the 'trouble at'mill' comedy 'Brass'? The contrast between the Big House and the Village Oiks was real enough in life, but after the comic absurdities of the Hardacre family, writers would do well to avoid anything within a sniff of a cliche. This has cliches aplenty, and yes, TWNHs aplenty too.
John Middleton (John Simm) even drinks the dirty floor scrubbing water and sucks the brush, so desperate is he for the beer it contains. What makes it comical is that he is clean and reasonably dressed rather than a ragged beggar. Presumably his farm is running itself while he trips off to the Big House. His big secret is that he slept with his sister-in-law, made her pregnant and then rejected her so she committed suicide. For this, the village have never forgiven him, even though his wife has. Hence his farming totally alone with no help, and seemingly no crops or animals.... His selfishness knows no bounds however as he attempts to hang himself despite his responsibility to his wife and children. These were the days before welfare, after all - viewers take note, 'tis probably the future too. All ends well here though, as he is rescued by his long-suffering wife and younger son before his latest child is born, remarkably clean and open-eyed, soon after.
Meanwhile, up at'Big House, Caroline Allingham (Emily Beecham) is hamstrung as the fey, bonkers rich girl who has seduced Bert and also got pregnant, and digs up her dead dog to put in her bed. The family are so horrified at the pregnancy (and presumably the dog) that they call for a detective from Chesterfield to investigate who preceded the dog's corpse on her pillow. Rather unusual for the rich to invite in the plods to sort out their dirty laundry, but clearly the police had nothing better to do, and were well paid enough to wear smart grey suits. Joe Armstrong as Detective Bairstow is lumbered with a part that seems written for an older man (yes, one does imagine his real-life dad) and some rather heavy-handed dialogue about class.
Then there's another scene in the convenient women's bath house which would appear to have piped water, and only be for the women, while their menfolk use a tin tub by the fire and even the rich Allinghams make the same provision (albeit with a 'waterman', who was Joe Middleton). Which brings to mind Joe's job in service. He took it despite his dad running a farm on his own, and his role as 'waterman' seemed to include roaming the estate with a gun. Presumably it stopped short of impregnating the daughter of the house?
The scarred master, whom everyone turns away from (leprosy? burns? syphilis?) we have yet to hear about, but 1914, while relatively primitive-seeming to us, wasn't 1714 and he wasn't a feudal lord.
Vicar's daughter Martha Lane continues to turn up everywhere looking pert and indignant, and in case you can't spot her, she's usually wearing the only bright red coat in the village, or The Village. She's still sweet on absent Joe, even though she suspects he may be the father of Caroline's child. Everyone else, of-course, suspects his dad John and much like the mob in 'Straw Dogs' they turn out with scythes and pitchforks. That's villages for you, or The Village anyway: it was never like this in Lark Rise or Candleford.
Young Bert, whose old self holds the narrative thread, has the sort of Oliver Twist, stage-school doe eyes that make you think you've seen him somewhere before. He's obvious fodder for both the sadistic school master with a thing for corporal punishment and the other jolly nice school master who wants to nurture him. If he, John Simm or Maxine Peake were less capable actors, this would be a laugh a minute, and thus probably more suitable for a Sunday night. As it is, we want to like it, but the much-cited use of 'Jerusalem' in 1914, two years before it was written, seems like the least of its inaccuracies.
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