Cranford (also known as Name That Period Drama Actor) Review

"It's all such a sequence of continual delights."
~Mrs. Jamieson, Cranford

This post is a study in procrastination, really.  The original draft dates from November 2011, and the amount of time it's taken me to dig it out again and actually revise and finish it is perfectly ridiculous.  After all, I do so love this movie.  Er, perhaps "love" is too strong a word.  Perhaps I've been reading too much Dickens.  It's altogether likely-- vulgar sentiment is so contagious.

Before I proceed any farther, I'd just like to warn you that you must gird your loins; it is all go in Cranford.  Pardon me, wrong quote--what I mean to say is that there WILL be spoilers in this post.  I apparently have a reputation for ruining Cranford for Other People (ahem, sisters dear), and I don't want anyone to sue me after reading my review.  (Really, I cannot understand all this agitation.  Are the summer gloves coming?) From what I've been told, my facial expressions, ill-placed sighs and inadvertent remarks of "poor such-and-such!" contrived to "give away the ending" to certain sisters of mine who had not yet seen the movie when I watched it with them.  But I must say, if I am a wild Beast I cannot help it.  It is not my own fault.

Moving on.

Cranford is based on a trilogy written by Elizabeth Gaskell (she of North and South and Wives and Daughters fame) and the screenwriters made some major changes from the books... but I can only applaud them for doing so.  (Dear me.  I'm turning into a most ferocious radical.)  I read Dr. Harrison's Confessions, Cranford and My Lady Ludlow before I saw the movie, and was thoroughly bored by the first and second.  My Lady Ludlow was pretty good but that was mostly because I kept mentally sticking Sir Percy into all the French Revolution scenes.  The creators of the Cranford miniseries somehow managed to take the best elements of all three books and combine them (with a good eal of additional content) and come up with a thoroughly lovely movie.

Cranford is one of those movies which has to be either adored or ridiculed.  I'm one of the abject adorers.  A certain member of my family who shall not be named is one of the ridiculers. (Apparently that's not a word.  I'm getting a Dreaded Underline of Red.)  It's certainly a challenge to follow, at least at first, and the multitude of characters (almost all female, at that) can make one's head swim, but if you stick with it, it's so worth it.  Each and every bustling little lady in the tiny village of Cranford was funny and special and lovable in her own way.  Take my three favorites, for instance...

Miss Deborah is just plain hilarious. Eileen Atkins gave her the most delightful blend of firmness, a tender heart and hilariously lovable hypocrisy. "I would prefer it if I did not enjoy oranges. Consuming them is a most incommodious business."  Her aversion to change of any kind got on my nerves a little bit, but hey, that's the way she is. In short, she had no nonsense about her--though something tells me she and Edmund Sparkler wouldn't get along.  She'd have him on a time-out before they'd known each other fifteen minutes.  Especially if he tried to butter her up by implying that she was his equal.  For no woman is the equal of a man.  She is his superior in every single sense.

When Mr. Holbrook first appeared, my
younger sister greeted him with the words,
"Hey, look, it's the old Hamley guy!"

Oh, and the way she had of reminding Martha to add "madam" at the end of every sentence was probably my favorite of her idiosyncrasies.  One has to wonder how often she would enforce that rule, however.

Miss Matty Jenkyns is... well, such a delight. Judi Dench is one of the most marvelous actresses I've ever had the pleasure of watching.  Miss Matty isn't as talkative as some of the other ladies in Cranford and so she doesn't have as many lines as she might (do tell!) yet you always know what she's thinking.  Just through her expressive face and sweet little mannerisms.  I loved how she was so devoted to Deborah even when Deborah was being a bit tyrannical (Two candles per evening! That's it!), yet was always looking out for others and being the velvet glove over Deborah's iron hand.  (Yay metaphors.)

Miss Octavia Pole was one of the multitude of familiar faces in Cranford.  I first knew Imelda Staunton as the flutter-brained Mrs. Palmer from S&S 1995.  What, Miss Pole was Mrs. Palmer?  "No, really, I cannot beLIEVE it!"

"Try."

There is a random horse statue in the background.
We do not know why.

Um, anyways, Miss Pole is just... well, to use a word that's ridiculously overused, she's awesome.  "My father was a man.  I think I understand the sex."  Her anxiety to be the FIRST one to tell any exciting (or otherwise) news in town, her gossipy good humor and sharp tongue, her kind heart and unfailing sense of justice are all just part of the wonderful little lady she is.  Also her feathered bonnet.  Mustn't forget that.  I'd been rehearsing THOSE words all the way from the worsted-work.

As for some of the other folks I liked in Cranford (bearing in mind that this movie has more characters than two or three Jane Austen films put together and that I can't possibly touch on everyone)...

Is it just me, or did Mary give this dress
another character later in the series?

Mary Smith's character was nicely developed in the movie; in the book, she's a bit dull and (to my mind) serves only as a narrator for the story. She has no real story of her own. In the movie, they combined her character with that of a girl in Dr. Harrison's Confessions, whose name I unfortunately can't recall. In Dr. H, this girl had a stepmother who was constantly trying to marry her off to every young man who came along, including Dr. Harrison. The girl wasn't at all interested in Dr. Harrison--but unfortunately the girl wasn't half as interesting as Mary. So that plot point was really the only tie between them. Mary seemed very real and down-to-earth, a quality I appreciated. As far as her relationship with Dr. Marshland.... eh, well, I go back and forth on that one.  On the one hand, I definitely want to see them get together, (ahem, Return to Cranford!  AHEM!) but on the other hand, Jack's a bit annoying at times.  And too unrepentant for all the mischief he causes.  Also, he has horrible handwriting.  Not that this is necessarily a point against him, as I'm sure plenty of nice guys have terrible handwriting, but I'm just saying.

One romance that was incredibly cute, however, was that of Dr. Harrison and Sophy Hutton.  Dr. Harrison annoyed me in the book, but in the movie I had nothing but sympathy for him.  Poor guy-- from his unfortunate choice in coat color to his unintentional habit of attracting every female within thirty years of his own age, everything seems to be against him.  Yet he and Sophy are just... well, just so CUTE together.  I'm not really sure what else I can say about them without sounding like a sentimental sop... but do I care about sounding like a sentimental sop?  I do not.  Here goes.  Dr. Harrison and Sophy are a testimony to how true love can be such a gentle thing, a little sea of peace in a midst of bustle and confusion and misunderstanding.  Even though there are certain moments where I can't believe Sophy would doubt Dr. Harrison... if she were really truly in love, she wouldn't believe for a minute that he'd proposed to another woman.  But of course there'd be no story otherwise, so I'm shutting up.

Her bonnet is reminiscent of Lizzy Bennet's, is it not?

(Also.  Was I the only one who thought at first that Sophy and Ada Clare were played by the same actress?  Later, of course, I discovered that Sophy was Kimberly Nixon and Ada was Carey Mulligan, but they do look alike, don't they?)

As for all those recurring actors-- Cranford is pretty much jam-packed with them.  I love the "see who we can recognize in this movie" game, and Cranford is one of the best playing fields.  Willoughby as Sir Charles Maulver!  Miss Browning as Mrs. Jamieson!  Miss Phoebe Browning as Miss Thompkinson!  Angelina Ballerina as Mary's whiny stepmother!  (Okay, so that last one wasn't period drama... hush.)

"Gesundheit, Mr. Carter."

I still haven't made up my mind as to whether or not the viewer is supposed to like Lady Ludlow.  For my part, I like her very much, but... eh.  That doesn't necessarily mean you're supposed to like her.  Ha.  Here's yet another familiar period drama face, since Francesca Annis is well-known for playing Mrs. Gibson on Wives and Daughters.  Suffice to say that I preferred this role.  She did a fantastic job of portraying the ice queen that Lady Ludlow is supposed to be, and there were times when I just wanted to cry for her.  Whether I actually did or not... well, I leave that to your own imagination.  Those of you who know me well will figure out the answer easily enough.

And while we're on the subject of Lady Ludlow, let's talk about the other person in that picture.
MR. CARTER! *loud applause*  One of the best guys in the whole story... look out for spoilers in these next few sentences.  Why, why, WHY did he have to die?  Just when everything was getting so good, and he and Miss Galindo might have lived happily ever after and maybe even adopted Harry or something.... blurgh.  I know Cranford's one of those funeral-happy movies with a death every five minutes, but couldn't Harry's no-account father have died instead?  Yes, yes, I know, they had to move the story along and all that, and of course Harry wouldn't have come into his inheritance otherwise... but SERIOUSLY.  Poor Miss Galindo.  Poor Harry.  Poor dude who wrote "Elegy in a Country Churchyard."  If he cried half as much writing that poem as I did hearing it, it's a wonder the paper survived.

"Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere ...
He gained from heaven ('twas all he wished) a friend."
*bawls again*

Anyways, that part hit me harder than any of the other multitude of demises in this morbid tale.  Okay, maybe morbid is too strong a word... but really!  My eleven-year-old sister Laura was prompted to demand tearfully whether Miss Matty was going to die TOO as we finished up the fourth episode.

Moving on to pleasanter topics... I thought Jessie Brown and Major Gordon's story was incredibly sweet.  I would have been happy to see that subplot expanded upon, though I know they were running short on time.  It was somewhat hilarious to see wild Lydia Bennet behaving so sedately and with due sense of decorum and with pride.  (Deference and great respect as well.  Oh, wait.  No, sorry, that's The Lion King.  Anne-girl's laughing her head off right about now.)  And who'd-a thunk she could sing so nicely?  Or that Miss Deborah could play the spoons so well?  Moral of the story: everyone has a hidden talent.  I bet Miss Matty's a sword juggler on the side.

I'm usually not much of a one for plaids, but I do love this dress.

I've covered the sad side of Cranford and the sweet side, to the best of my ability, and now it's time for the funny side.  Because this film is the kind that you have to pause sometimes because you're laughing so hard.  

"Thank you, I'd love another pancake."

"That's your EIGHTH!" 

Really, now, how many old-fashioned movies are there in which you can find a cow in flannel pajamas?  ("Bessie DEAREST!")  How many will severely detail the proper way to eat an orange?  ("We shall repair to our rooms and consume our fruit in solitude."  *slurp*)  How many will be totally gross and yet terrifically side-splitting at the exact same time?  ("It's in the basket!  In pussy's INSIDE!")  How many will feature a poodle in striped changeable silk? ("Don't ruffle his hair! It took all night to curl it!")

I wish I had time to go through and recount every one of my favorite scenes in this movie, tell about the quirks of my favorite characters, recite every word of my favorite lines.  Unfortunately, that would make the post even more ridiculously long than it is already, so I won't.  I'll just say that you should not put the pastries to your lips or you shall choke when you hear the news I must report.  This is more preposterous and shocking than when the Wombwell lions came and the little child's arm was bit clean off! Are you ready?  Are you prepared?  Have your smelling salts handy...

This movie was better than its books.

There! I said it! 

Phew.

I hinted as much earlier in this post, but now I've finally made the bald statement, and it feels so good to get that off my chest.  You other members of the Book Is Always Better Club won't black-ball me, will you?  But then again, if you allow me to do as I wish, I shall be in contravention of all polite codes.  What will people think of me?  And worse, what will be said?

Well, well, let me know in the comments if you agree that Cranford-the-movie is better than Cranford-the-book, yes?  Thank you.  And now I must stop my nonsense, as this is no occasion for sport.  There is lace at stake!!