warning:
spoilers
When
the BBC's first adaptation of a Sarah
Waters book, Tipping
the Velvet, premiered in 2002, it was met with mixed
reactions and a fair amount of controversy. It seemed extraordinary
that the prudish, proper BBC--the main television broadcaster
in Britain--would even show such a lesbian drama, but many lesbian
viewers felt they edited out too much of the lesbian content.
Thankfully,
three years later, the reaction to the BBC's broadcast of the
adaptation of another Sarah Waters novel, Fingersmith,
has been much less scandalous, either because British society
now has a more relaxed attitude towards sex on television (also
demonstrated in the BBC's recent adaptation of Casanova,
about the most famous male nymphomaniac), or, more optimistically,
because there has been a gradual increase in the acceptance
of homosexuality in the last few years--at least within the
framework of nineteenth-century Britain and tight corsets.
Given
the disappointment many lesbians felt with the adaptation of
Tipping the Velvet, I tuned into the first installment
of the three-part Fingersmith on Sunday, March 27th,
with a mixture of hope and trepidation. My fears diminished
soon after the movie opened, however, and scenes of a poverty-stricken,
disease-ridden Victorian London filled the screen, introducing
the lavish set and costume design that would serve as the backdrop
to the story.
Like
Tipping the Velvet, Fingersmith
is a story of lesbian love, deceit and betrayal set in Victorian
England (see our Fingersmith
book review for a more thorough plot description). The adaptation
begins by highlighting the very different upbringings of two
young women: Sue (Sally Hawkins) the teenage orphan who is trained
as a fingersmith (slang for a petty thief, or pick-pocket) by
the crime boss who takes her in; and Maud (Elaine Cassidy),
the privileged but repressed member of high society set to inherit
a small fortune from her father.
Sue's
humorous, free manner contrasts sharply with Maud's constricted
seriousness. Elaine Cassidy seems comfortable in the role, displaying
repressed emotion through a stony countenance, loosening only
when laughing at Sue's jokes, or dancing with her. The actress's
greatest achievement early on in the movie is to hint at the
better scenes to come, when Maud will finally be able to begin
to let go of her seemingly emotionless character.
In
many reviews, Sally Hawkins has been highlighted
as the actress who shines, and it's not hard to see why. Her
expressive face successfully communicates a range of emotions
throughout the whole episode (most probably throughout the whole
series.) She brings subtle comedy to the scene where Sue, an
illiterate Londoner, is getting exasperated at learning how
to dress a lady (using a chair as a prop), or when gazing upon
the "mile after bleeding mile" of countryside. Even
in the short snippets where Sue practices her curtsey, we are
forced to smile.
Imelda
Staunton as Mrs. Sucksby, the woman who takes in Sue after she's
orphaned and trains her in the art of deception, and Rupert
Evans as the Gentleman (aka Mr. Rivers), round out the cast
of characters at the heart of this drama.
Gentleman
brings Sue and Maud together as part of an elaborate scheme
to swindle Maud of her inheritance by convincing Maud to marry
him. Gentleman is more of a caricature than an actual character,
but Evans plays his role to the hilt: lecherous, innuendo-filled
remarks slide off his tongue as though commonplace, and his
physical frustration at Sue's lack of progress with Maud masterfully
conveys the patriarchal repression that permeates Victorian-era
society.
Evans
and Hawkins play off each other well as initial partners-in-crime.
Sue often looks as though she is on the verge of rolling her
eyes when hearing Gentleman's slimy comments to Maud, adding
to both the tension and the comic relief.