TV Review: His Dark Materials: “The Daemon Cages” (S1, Ep. 6)

KC Winters

Let me begin by saying…wow.

That was, without doubt, the best episode that this series has produced by far. And it’s not just that it was a great episode of His Dark Materials; it was a great episode of television, period.

In this episode, Lyra finally discovers what it is that’s being down at Bovangar: human children are being forcibly separated from their dæmons. Being Lyra, she immediately begins to hatch a plan to escape, and while she eventually does so, it’s only after she is almost subjected to the cruel process itself and is only saved by the intercession of Mrs. Coulter. At the end, Lyra tumbles out of the hot-air balloon, her fate uncertain.

From the beginning, I’ve thought that Ruth Wilson threatened to walk away with the entire series in her back pocket, and this episode reveals why that’s a very real threat. She manages to combine in her person a steely, firm power while also conveying a unique vulnerability, particularly when it comes to Lyra. This comes to the fore in their tense and emotional conversation immediately after she saves her from intercision. This is a master class in the power of the face to convey contradictory emotions, and it reveals the extent to which Wilson has a tremendous command over her facial expressions.

However, the scene wouldn’t have nearly the resonance that it does without Dafne Keen, who is her match, both in character and as an actress. The scene allows Keen to bring to the fore Lyra’s complicated feelings about her mother, for though there is much about Coulter that is worthy of revulsion, one suspects that even Lyra cannot fully deny the fact that her mother loves her and wants to protect her from the ravages of the world.

The fraught relationship between Lyra and Mrs. Coulter is one of the most emotionally resonant and complex parts of the books, and I’m really glad to see that they’ve translated it so successfully to the screen. When they are each screaming on opposite sides of a doorway–Lyra out of rage and hurt and pain, Mrs. Coulter out of anguish that her daughter reviles her–it’s impossible not to feel caught up in the emotion of the scene. In fact, I would go so far as to say that it’s by far and away the best one that this season has produced.

Nor is the episode all action and emotion (as important as those two axes are to its ultimate success). No, for we finally begin to see the deep philosophical underpinnings that have, up until now, existed somewhat at the margins of the narrative. Now that we know that the Magisterium is attempting to sever children from their dæmons in order to eradicate sin, we are confronted with the same moral conundrum as the characters: is it worth […] In putting this argument in the mouth of Mrs. Coulter, certainly one of the most ambiguous characters in this drama, the series also makes us wrestle with our inner demons and our own complicity in these sorts of atrocities.

For make no mistake, it is an absolute atrocity. In their relentless desire to do away with sin, the Magisterium has perpetrated a serious atrocity upon these children, who have committed no other sin except being born on the outskirts of society. It’s hard not to feel immense sorrow and anger at what has been done to them, all so that those in power can continue to exert a stronger hold over the souls over whom they already hold worldly dominion. (It’s also worth noting that, though she only appears for a few moments, Anne-Marie Duff continues to work miracles as Ma Costa)

Truly, this was almost a perfect episode. The writers made a canny decision in focusing almost exclusively on Lyra and her interactions with the other characters. The exception to this is Lee, who have a very revealing conversation with the witch Serafina, who informs him that he now has a role to play as Lyra’s protector. I am now completely sold on Lin-Manuel Miranda in the role, and I’d go so far as to say that it’s one of the best that he’s ever conjured.

That’s all for this week. Stay tuned!

The Terror of the Nazgûl: Evil and the Uncanny

KC Winters

When I think back to the first time that I read The Lord of the Rings, one of the things that stands out most to me is just how disturbed I was by the hobbits’ encounters with the Ringwraiths, both within the bounds of the Shire and outside of it. Though the effect has been mitigated a bit as I’ve grown older, I still feel a little chill race down my spine every time I read those passages in the books where these terrible servants of Sauron appear to afflict the heroes.

Consider, for example, the first time that we get a glimpse of one of them. We as readers don’t know that the horseman pursuing the hobbits is one of the most evil beings in Middle-earth, but the way that Tolkien describes it makes it abundantly clear. Matters escalate when the frantic hobbits turn to a shortcut After they spot the nameless creature kneeling beside its horse on the rise behind them, they hear a long-drawn wail that freezes both their blood and our own. This, to me, is one of the most haunting moments in the entire first part of the book. Simply seeing that horse and rider at the top of the embankment is enough to fill our hearts with dread and apprehension about what is going to come next. And the sound that follows is yet another marker of just how strange the world has become.

To me, even as an adult, this entire sequence is disturbing, verging on terrifying. Though we don’t know what these creatures are, their utter lack of humanity instills in us an instinctive fear of the unknown. More than that, though, their appearance within the supposedly safe boundaries of the Shire renders that space uncanny, the familiar now made unutterably strange. A great deal of this scene’s power also comes from Tolkien’s unmatched powers of description and his ability to convey a scene with such detail that you can almost see it in your mind’s eye.

To my mind, however, one of the most terrifying incidents occurs when Frodo and Sam are crossing the Dead Marshes in the company of Gollum, who has agreed to take them to the Black Gate. As they stumble across this blasted landscape, they are once again subjected to the sound of that wail, while a terrible winged shape wheels above them before darting off on another errand. Again, there’s nothing overtly horrifying about this particular appearance, but to me there’s something haunting about the image of a great winged beast silhouetted against the moon, a sort of nameless horror that, perhaps, calls to some primordial fear of giant beasts in the sky.

In terms of the films, I have to say that the Bakshi version does best at capturing the sheer inhumanity of these creatures. Though the film doesn’t age terribly well, each time I watch it I’m impressed anew at the way in which Bakshi manages to capture the strange and unsettling otherness of the Ringwraiths. They don’t have nearly as much personality as the they do in Jackson’s version, and they are given an extra layer of uncanniness by the fact that they’re brought to the screen via rotoscope (in which live action figures are filmed and then animated cells are laid over top of them). I remember being profoundly chilled by their appearance, and even now I find them very disturbing.

Jackson’s version of these characters isn’t quite as haunting, in part because they are more straightforwardly depicted and because Jackson isn’t always the most subtle of filmmakers. However, there are a few moments that capture some of the strangeness of the novels, particularly when the hobbits first encounter their enemies.

Without doubt, the Ringwraiths are some of the most frightening of Tolkien’s creations, and they are testament to his ability to move seamlessly between so many different registers. They are at once the evil with which the heroes must contend as they embark on their quest, yet they are also embodiments of our deepest fears, conveyed in sparse prose that nevertheless evokes the horror of the unknown. As always, Tolkien knows just how to most compellingly explore the most vexing of human questions, both the good and the evil.

Tolkien’s Songs: Pleasure or Pain?

tjwest3

In the annals of Tolkien fandom, there is no subject more likely to cause an argument that the subject of the songs. Anyone who’s read either The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings knows that fans either love them or hate them. Anecdotally, I’d go so far as to say that casual fans tend to simply skim over them in the process of reading the books, while those who are a little more in-depth in their appreciation read them and savor them (though whether they enjoy them, per se, is a rather different question). To some they’re an essential part of world-building, while to others they’re hopelessly self-indulgent and more than a little silly.

In my opinion as someone who has read both of these books more times than I can count, I have to say that I’m still divided. Part of me dearly wants to love the ones that Tolkien clearly took the most pride in–the great romantic tales of Beren and Luthien, the sailing of Eärendil the mariner–but I’ll be honest, they’re kind of a slog to get through. I’m not enough of a poetry critic to gauge whether they’re “good” (I’m also rather dubious about such distinctions in any case). Sometimes, I do read them in their entirety, but at other times I skim through them to get to the parts of the narrative that interest me more.

At the same time, I can appreciate how these serious songs function in the context of the books as a whole. In the case of The Lord of the Rings, they are often symbolic of the power of the Elves, even in the darkening hours of the Third Age, to command some measure of power. For example, when Frodo, Sam, and Pippin encounter Elves in the Shire, it is their song in praise of Elbereth that drives away the Black Rider. It’s clear that for Tolkien song in particular was a powerful form of magic as great as anything that a wizard can create.

I can say, however, that as I continue to re-read Lord of the Rings, I find myself absolutely loving the ones that are more humourous in tone. Both the elaboration of the nursery rhyme “The Man in the Moon” and Sam’s ditty about the Troll never fail to bring a smile to my face. But, more than that, they do reveal some important facts about Tolkien and the way that he viewed his act of creation. In the case of “The Man in the Moon,” we can see him performing the sort of linguistic archaeology that he loved so dearly, giving us an extended version of the very short nursery rhyme that we already know so well.

In the case of Sam’s song about the Troll, it is not only very amusing–almost earthy–but it also reveals something important about Sam. While we might be forgiven for regarding Master Samwise as something of a buffoon, there are hidden layers to his character that really come into the open at moments like this. Through this song, we learn that he is actually a far more competent and intelligent character than we might have been led to believe.

No doubt the arguments about the merits and drawbacks of Tolkien’s songs will continue to rage for as long as people continue returning to Middle-earth. Love them or hate them, however, you have to admit that they remain a key part of the world that Tolkien created, a reminder of just how much he laboured to make a world that had its own internal consistency. If we owe one thing to Peter Jackson’s films (and I would argue that we actually owe quite a lot), he deserves credit for bringing the songs out of the realm of the abstract and into the performative. Let’s face it. It’s very difficult, if not impossible, to really hear how a song is supposed to sound when you’re reading it silently. However, I dare you to remain unmoved by Billy Boyd’s singing of the travel song (even if it is delivered out of its original context).

What are your thoughts about the songs in the work of Tolkien? Do you love them, hate them, or some combination of the two? Let me know in the comments!

Book Review: The Dark Powers of Tolkien (by David Day)

KC Winters

As I do every year at this time, I find myself wanting to read anything and everything I can about Tolkien, his worlds, and his philosophy. When I saw David Days The Dark Powers of Tolkien in a bookshop in Edinburgh, I knew at once that I had to have it. Well, I started reading it and, a day later, I’m finished and ready to share my thoughts with all of you.

It’s a slender book, but Day manages to pack quite a lot into it despite that. He gives us a pretty good overview of the various incarnations of evil that appear in all of the ages of Middle-earth, ranging from the titanic force of Morgoth in the First and Sauron in the Second and Third to the rather lesser evils of Saruman, Orcs, Trolls, and sundry dragons and other monsters. The book is arranged chronologically, so that the reader gets a good sense of how evil incarnates in each Age of Middle-earth.

In the process, he shows us how, for Tolkien, evil is nothing more nor less than the absence of good. In other words, it is a nothingness that can only ever be self-defeating. We see this time and time again in his work. Melkor/Morgoth, for all of his grand ambitions, finds that he lacks the power to make something out of nothing, and so must content himself with damaging and corrupting the work of others, and his efforts ultimately end up being self-defeating. The same is true of Sauron who, in his arrogance and desire to dominate, sows the seeds of his own undoing.

Day draws some interesting parallels between Tolkien’s work and the various threads and cultures that he drew upon, some of which even I wasn’t aware of. In doing so, Day helps us to appreciate the deep wells of Tolkien’s own mind. Those who aren’t as familiar with his work and his influences will definitely find some valuable gems. Day is particularly successful at showing how Tolkien drew on the various myths and legends of northern Europe, though he also does some cross-cultural exploration that I found intriguing. Day also provides some interesting glosses on nomenclature and how, in Tolkien’s fiction, the name of a person or thing reveals something about its essential nature.

Perhaps the book’s most interesting contribution to an understanding of Tolkien’s work is his comparison of Tolkien to Milton. The two men are, arguably, the greatest crafters of epic in English, and each of them has a particularly keen eye of how to create evil characters that are at once deeply repugnant yet utterly comprehensible.

Lastly, a word on the illustrations. The book is lavishly illustrated with various styles of image. Some of them are truly disturbing in their ability to capture the grandeur and terror of Tolkien’s evil creations. While some of them may not be to everyone’s taste, many of them are very extraordinary indeed.

Overall, I think this book will be enjoyed by those, like me, who have a voracious appetite for everything Tolkien. There’s not necessarily anything truly groundbreaking in the book, it does provide a good overview of the types of evil creatures that populate Tolkien’s fiction.

TV Review: His Dark Materials: “The Lost Boy” (S1, Ep. 5)

KC Winters

In this episode, things begin to take some interesting turns, as Lyra at last discovers for certain what exactly the Magisterium has been doing to the captured children: separating them from their dæmons. Meanwhile, in our world, we are finally introduced to the character Will Parry and his troubled mother, both of whom are being pursued by Boreal in his efforts to discover what it was that Stanlislaus Grumman managed to discover. In the final moments of the episode, Lyra is captured by unnamed persons and taken to the terrible Bolvangar.

Even though I’ve read the book and knew what to expect, the death of Billy Costa was still like an emotional punch to the gut, and it serves as an important reminder of the stakes of the journey to regain the children from the hands of the Magisterium. When his mother tells him that he can go and be with Ratter, it’s hard not to feel as if your own heart is being torn out at having to watch this woman who has already suffered so much have to stand by and watch her son die as well.

Since the beginning, I’ve thought that Duff was one of the strongest parts of this series, even if she wasn’t one of the main characters, and her performance in this episode was truly the stuff of awards season. The same can also be said James Cosmo as Farder Coram. Those who saw him as Ser Jeor in Game of Thrones would be forgiven for thinking that he was only capable of playing bluff, bear-like characters, but here he shows that he has a sensitive side as well. His scene with the witch Serafina was as heartbreaking in its own way as Ma Costa’s was with Billy, for it reminds us just how much he’s had to give up as he grows older.

Of course, the most noteworthy part of this episode was the introduction of Will. I’ve been wondering for some time how deeply they were going to go into Will Parry’s backstory in the first season of the series, given that he doesn’t even make an appearance until the second book. Here, we learn that he takes care of his mother, who clearly suffers from some form of anxiety and OCD. The scenes between the two of them also pack an emotional punch, as it’s clear that Will loves his mother, even as he’s consumed with the same conflicted feelings that most adolescents feel toward their parents (the bonds between mothers and their children is one of the themes from the books that the series has chosen to emphasize).

Though I’m sure that some annoying fans of the books (who just happen to be racist) will start bitching because they cast people of color in the roles of Will and his mother, to me that matters less than the talent that we see from both Amir Wilson and Nina Sosanaya. Between the two of them, they manage to convey a great deal of emotional richness of these two characters and their deep bond with one another.

Strangely enough, despite the fact that Ruth Wilson didn’t put in an appearance as Mrs. Coulter, I still felt her presence looming in the background. I have to be honest, I rather missed seeing her striding across this stage, and I’m looking forward to seeing her certain return next week, particularly since it will involve her confronting the fact that her own heartless experiments on children have now caught Lyra.

Overall, I thought this was a very strong episode. Though there weren’t any truly big set pieces, there were a few moments–such as Lyra’s journey atop Iorek–that were breathtaking. And, as always, the scenery continues to be one of the highlights of the series. And, of course, Iorek himself continues to fascinate, and I’m really impressed with how well the CGI has been handled. His conversation with Lyra, in which he explains his shame, is also one of the highlights of the episode.

Now that there are only three episodes left, I’m finding myself wondering where they’ll decide to make the cut off. There are a number of climaxes that occur just within the first book, so they have a lot to choose from.

See you next week!

On the Pleasures of Re-Reading “The Lord of the Rings”

KC Winters

As I do every year, I’ve recently started re-reading The Lord of the Rings. Those who are familiar with my old blog no doubt know that, every December, I commit a good amount of my blog space to a discussion of Tolkien and his works, and this year is no different. So, to inaugurate my first Tolkien Appreciation Month on this author blog, I thought I’d talk about the pleasures of re-reading Tolkien.

I first read The Lord of the Rings when I was about 9 or 10, and it proved to be one of those truly life-changing literary events. I simply couldn’t stop reading it; it seemed to exert some sort of hold on me that I couldn’t break. Full of trembling fear at the Ringwraiths, swept up in the majesty of Tolkien’s world, and moved to tears by this tale of sacrifice, I knew that here was a book that I’d return to again and again.

Part of this, I think, comes from the fact that it was my Mom who introduced me to Tolkien and that she, like so many others, had returned to it repeatedly over the years. Re-reading it with her was a way of forging bonds with her, each of us sharing our observations and thoughts about the book, as well as explaining to one another why we took pleasure in it.

In the years since, I’ve read it dozens of times, but still something keeps me coming back again and again. Sometimes, this was an external factor. When, for example, the films came out in the early 2000s, I found myself reading The Lord of the Rings on a yearly basis. While in undergrad, I also took not one but two courses on Tolkien, which encouraged yet more readings. And then there were The Hobbit films, and the release of further volumes from Christopher, notably Beren and Luthien and The Fall of Gondolin. Each one gave me a reason to return to the stories that started it all. It’s now become basically an annual ritual for me to pick up The Lord of the Rings and to give it another read.

Sometimes, I read it slowly, savoring each and every word, allowing myself to become fully immersed in the beauty of Tolkien’s language. Even a cursory reading of The Lord of The Rings reveals a man who knew how to describe landscape in a way that almost no one else in epic fantasy has come close to matching (Terry Brooks is one such). On these readings, I often allow myself to even linger over the songs (certainly one of the most divisive aspects of the book, with some fans loving and others hating them). At other times, I go at a faster pace, sometimes skipping to the parts of the book that I find the most enjoyable.

Either way, I continually and consistently find new things about the story itself, the characters, and the world that Tolkien crafted with such care. That, to me, is one of the most extraordinary things about Tolkien in general and The Lord of the Rings in particular. No matter how many times you read it nor over how many years, it can still manage to surprise you. In that sense, they are both very much like the hobbits themselves.

At the same time, there’s also something comforting about the familiar notes, about knowing what’s going to happen yet enjoying the journey anyway. I love reading the chapters that detail history (such as “The Shadow of the Past” and “The Council of Elrond”). And, silly as it sounds, I still get a chill when the Ringwraiths first begin to make their appearance. And, divisive as it may be, as the years have gone by I’ve even begun to enjoy Tom Bombadil.

A lot about me has changed in the 20 years since I first read The Lord of the Rings. Still, every time I pick it up, I found myself drawn back, reminded of that sense of wonder and joy that accompanied that first reading. No matter what happens in the outside world, and no matter how dismal and depressing it may be at times, I know that there is a different sort of world awaiting me between its pages.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must rejoin Frodo and company. Cheers!

TV Review: His Dark Materials: “Armour” (S1, Ep. 4)

KC Winters

First of all, let me start off by saying…wow, what an episode! Lyra finally meets both Lee Scoresby and the formidable armored bear Iorek and, by the end of the episode, they have all begun their trek to the place known to the witches as Bolvangar, where they hope to at last find and rescue the missing children. All of that is quite a lot of action to pack into an episode, but somehow it manages to feel perfectly paced.

I’ll confess that I had some serious doubts about Lin-Manuel Miranda as Lee Scoresby. I guess I had a certain image of him (okay, it’s Sam Elliott from the film version), and I just wasn’t sold that the man most famous for playing Alexander Hamilton could conform to what I saw in the character. Say what you will about LMM, but he does have a certain rakish charm, and that comes across in his interpretation of Lee. He’s less the crusty old western cowboy and more the rakish adventurer, and let me tell you, it works.

The real star of this episode was, of course, Iorek Byrnison, arguably one of Pullman’s finest creations. The armored bears (also known as the panserbjørne) have always been one of my favourite parts about this series, a reminder of just how strange this world is (despite its surface resemblance to our own). The animation makes him appear both visually compelling and also more than a little terrifying, and the voice adds to the overall effect. Likewise, Iorek’s nemesis Iofur (thank goodness they kept the name, rather than changing it, as they did in the film) is in many ways his polar opposite, possessed of an obsession with outward appearance that manifests as an ornate golden helmet. I will be very interested indeed to see what happens with those two as the series progresses.

This episode, I think, shows signs that the series is at last beginning to find its legs and its voice. The narrative itself took a great, strong step forward, and it definitely looks as if the conflict that’s been brewing will finally come to pass, though it remains to be seen who will be the ultimate victor between the Magisterium and those who chafe under their restrictions. At the same time, it kept enough just out of our sight to keep us wanting more. The witches, for example, have yet to make an appearance, but it appears that they will at last make their entrance in next week’s episode.

A friend of mine also pointed out that Lyra is also beginning to mature in this episode, and I agree. In fact, I think that the series’ choice to show her as a little more mature than her novel counterpart was one of the wiser creative decisions, as it shortcuts some of the more laborious parts of the novel that focus on her emotional maturation. It also helps that Dafne Keen is just so compelling as a young actress, and I’m so glad that she was chosen to bring Lyra to visual life.

Just as importantly, this episode also showed that, beneath their powerful and implacable exterior, the members of the Magisterium are as divided and dangerous to one another as they are to their enemies. Marisa Coulter has everyone, even a cardinal and the king of the bears, wrapped around her finger, and she isn’t afraid to use every tool at her disposal to get what she wants. Evil as she might be, she continues to dominate every scene in which she appears. Speaking of Mrs. Coulter…if the costume designer for this series isn’t at the very least nominated for an Emmy for their costuming of Mrs. C. during this episode, then there is truly no justice in this world. When she appears in that maroon sheath in the heart of the Magisterium, drawing every eye to herself, it’s clear that she knows exactly what it takes to get what she wants.

I continue to be very pleased with the way that HBO has chosen to adapt one of my favuorite fantasy series, and I have very high hopes for the remainder of the season and for the already-filming second one. Stay tuned for next week’s review!

Book Review: “The Ruin of Kings” (by Jenn Lyons)

KC Winters

As readers of this blog know, I’m always on the lookout for a new fantasy to really sink my teeth into, one that would allow me to lose myself in its world while also keeping the pace moving. I remembered seeing Jenn Lyons’ The Ruin of Kings at Barnes and Noble some time ago, but it was some time before I could actually sit down and read it, and even more time after that until I’d finished it.

The novel follows Kihrin as he struggles to come to terms with a destiny that is far grander–and far more dangerous–than he’d ever imagined. It toggles between three different timelines, as well as several characters, before they all come together in the sort of climaxes that are the hallmark of much epic fantasy. The novel ends with Kirhin fleeing into exile, while a horde of demons has been unleashed upon the land.

The Ruin of Kings has all of the ingredients that I love about epic fantasy. Kihrin is a very sympathetic hero, and there are enough side characters with their own personalities to flesh out the story. There’s an extensive cosmogony, and the world that the characters inhabit is a once beautiful, deadly, and cruel. This is the sort of novel in which you can truly lose yourself, as you become invested both in the hero’s journey and in the world in which it takes place.

What’s more, it’s told in a very lively and engaging fashion that actually had me laughing out loud a couple of times. It’s not just that Kihrin is an irreverent character–though that is true–it’s also that the other characters are as well. What’s more, there are footnotes scattered throughout, all of which come from the compiler of Kihrin’s story. While these sometimes provide useful context for what’s happening in the story, just as often they’re witty or amusing asides and commentary about what is happening. They are very amusing, but they can also be a bit distracting at times (as is often the case when people choose to use footnotes in fiction).

Much as I enjoyed this book, however, I do think that sometimes it does get a bit self-indulgent with its complexity. It can sometimes get a little bewildering trying to sort through the various social structures, magic systems, and goddesses. This problem is exacerbated by the fact that so many of them have very similar-sounding names, which can get a bit bewildering at times. Just as importantly, there are some aspects of the narrative itself that can get a bit bewildering, as there are quite a few twists and turns along the way. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, mind you, but it is definitely something to keep in mind as you start to read.

While some reviewers have really come down hard on the choice to have the novel toggle between three different periods of time–the time of the compiler, the frame narrative, and the time of the main action of the story–I think that this is actually one of the novel’s more interesting moves. Admittedly, it does get a bit confusing at times, trying to piece together this fragmented story, and I’m not entirely sure I understand the point of telling the story in this way.

However, since ornateness is hardly unique to Lyons (Brandon Sanderson comes to mind as someone else who gets a little indulgent in this regard), I won’t hold her to account too much. It just means that, as you read, you want to either keep a running tab of the various mentions of characters (the book contains a glossary, but sometimes it’s helpful to keep your own notes), or actually outline what’s going on. Alternatively, you can follow my method, which is to just keep moving forward and assume (rightly, I think) that the numerous conundrums will be resolved in the end.

Overall, I very much enjoyed The Ruin of Kings. By the time that the novel ended, I was left hungering for more. Lucky for me, the sequel, The Name of All Things, has already been released, so I can’t wait to devour it and report back to you on my findings.

Stay tuned!

TV Review: His Dark Materials: “The Spies” (S1, Ep. 3)

KC Winters

In the most recent episode of His Dark Materials Lyra, having escaped from Mrs. Coulter’s clutches and those of the Gobblers, finds herself taken in by the Gyptians who, we know, are on their own mission to rescue their children. Though much remains unclear, it is becoming increasingly obvious to her that she is part of a much greater destiny than she ever suspected. Meanwhile, the Magisterium–particularly Mrs. Coulter and Boreal–continue their own investigations.

At this point, the series has begun to take some liberties with the original novel, fleshing out some of the behind-the-scenes action that we don’t get in the book. For example, in this episode we see Mrs. Coulter ransack Jordan College, under the mistaken belief that Lyra has fled back to them. And of course we also see Boreal making continued forays into our world in order to track down the man she knows as Stanislaus Grumman (known as John Parry in our world). This expanded frame allows us to get more insight into the characters and their actions, a necessary bid of expansion when you adapt a relatively slender novel into a full-fledged television series.

One of the most conspicuous expansions, however, deals with Lyra herself. Whereas in the novels it takes some time for Lyra to find out that Mrs. Coulter and Lord Azriel are her parents, here we learn that out already and, just as importantly, we find out that Ma Costa is the Gyptian nurse who protected her from the man who wanted to take her life. This important change allows us to get a firmer look into her background and how this will shape her perspective on the world and the actions that she takes as the Gyptians make their way north and she embarks on the path to her destiny. (It’s worth noting that some of this material is drawn not just from the later books of His Dark Materials but also from The Book of Dust).

Naturally, Ruth Wilson continues to captivate as Mrs. Coulter. She positively seethes with a powerful energy, and while she is capable of absolute ruthlessness (though her monkey is the more terrifying of the two), it’s equally clear that she truly loves Lyra and is torn apart by the fact that she has left her. I’ve always thought that she was one of the best things about the books, and I’m glad that the series has opted to give her quite a lot of screen time to develop her character, to show that she’s not just a faceless villain. At the same time, I also appreciate that they’re leaving just enough out of the frame, leaving her something of an enigma that will continue to draw us in (particularly as she sets out to reclaim Lyra for herself).

This episode also featured some of the best cinematography that we’ve seen so far. There were a number of shots that were truly beautiful, particularly the emotional confrontation between Ma Costa and Lyra. The way in which it was staged not only showed the exquisite scenery but also used it to show the gradual drawing back together of Lyra and Ma Costa. Speaking of…I’m a little bit in love with Anne-Marie Duff. She brings to her performance of Costa the perfect blend of vulnerability and strength and makes her a surprisingly central character to the series’ narrative.

The actions of Boreal raises some significant questions, most notably whether the series will opt to introduce Will Parry in this season, or whether it will wait until season two. In any case, bringing him into the frame, even if just by reference, ensures that his introduction won’t be nearly as jarring as it is in the books, where he suddenly becomes a main character in the second book without any warning at all.

Overall, I thought this was a fine episode. The series is finally starting to build up some momentum and I, for one, cannot wait for the chance to finally see the North and, of course, the armoured bears. While some might begrudge the series its rather slow movement, I personally find it a pleasure to let it build up slowly.

That’s all for now. Stay tuned for next week’s review.

TV Review: His Dark Materials: “The Idea of North” (S1, Ep. 2)

KC Winters

Sorry that this review is a few days late. It’s been quite a week. Hopefully from here on out I’ll be able to post my reviews in a more timely fashion (no promises, though!)

In the most recent episode of His Dark Materials, Lyra finds that her stay in London with Mrs. Coulter is not at all what she expected it to be, particularly as her new mentor has more than a little bit of a sinister and cruel edge to her behaviour. The Gyptians continue their search for Billy Costa, and Carlo Boreal reveals that has somehow managed to find a way into our own world.

As was the case in the first episode, Ruth Wilson threatens to overshadow the proceedings. Somehow, she manages to bring together the essential contradictions at the heart of one of Pullman’s most compelling characters, at times vulnerable and at other as hard and cruel as diamonds. We also learn that she appears to have a genuine fondness for Lyra, even though this often manifests as a certain dictatorial approach to her protege. One gets the sense that there are depths to her that we have yet to see, and there’s more than a hint that she has a troubled history with Lord Azriel. Somehow, Wilson just seems to be Mrs. Coulter, and it was particularly chilling to watch the way in which she adopts the sweet persona of a genuinely caring woman, only to dispense with it as soon as she doesn’t need it any longer. (And, of course, there’s also her very sinister monkey dæmon).

That’s not to say that Lyra isn’t also compelling. I’m continually amazed at the deft casting of Dafne Keen in this role. She’s managed to make it all her own, and while this Lyra isn’t exactly as I pictured her, I to truly love the spunk and energy that Keen brings to the role. I’m very much looking forward to how she grows into the role as this season, and the series as a whole, continues.

The Magisterium, of course, continues to loom over everything. Some critics have suggested that it is ominous and menacing in the way of totalitarian organizations in a host of other fantasy series, but I actually think that this is selling the this adaptation short. True, it does handle the religious with a gentler touch than the books, but it’s still there in clearer fashion than it was in the previous film version. Time and again, we see the sign of cross hovering in the background, often looming portentously. For that matter, we also get a closer glimpse at the inner workings of this labyrinthine institution, and one gets the sense that the conflicts within the Magisterium might prove to be just as costly as its efforts outside of it.

Speaking of the Magisterium, I really like what the series has chosen to do with Boreal. In the books, he’s a rather stolid and cunning old gentleman (one can almost imagine him being played by Ian McKellen), but he’s far more of an active character in this adaptation. Here, we learn very early on that he has found a way to access our world, and it’s clear that he’s already started to hatch plots and plans there as well. I really appreciate the way that Ariyon Bakare brings a bristling, very sinister energy to the role, and I’m curious whether the series continues to set him up as one of the primary antagonists this early in the narrative.

All in all, I found this to be a very satisfying episode, one that ratcheted up the tension set up in the first one. I think that the fact that the first season is only eight episodes requires that they keep the narrative moving at a fast clip, rather than allowing us to get bogged down. At the same time, the expanded time frame enabled by television means that we get a deeper, richer look at this world and what makes it tick. I’m very much looking forward to seeing how they bring together Lyra and the Gyptians, as well as the long-awaited reveal of the armoured bear Iorek.

That’s all for today’s review. Stay tuned for my review of tomorrow night’s episode!