Season 19 - The Dressmaker (1989-1990)
When I went looking for shows to fill in the gaps of my Masterpiece Theatre knowledge accessibility was the prime directive. Could I actually find it to watch. So many of the shows aren't on streaming and many of those that were released on DVD are now out of print, so I've been relying heavily on eBay, a habit my wallet doesn't like. And I won't deny that the nineteenth season had an obvious choice in Traffik, because it's one of the most famous series from Masterpiece Theatre and it went on to be adapted into the Oscar winning film by Steven Soderbergh. But then I saw that The Dressmaker was on Amazon. I literally knew nothing about it going in other than it has a small yet stellar cast in Dame Joan Plowright, Billie Whitelaw, Pete Postlewaite, and a painfully young Jane Horrocks. The story itself is rather simple, Jane Horrocks plays Rita, a young girl raised by her aunts who finally gets asked to her first party, a bit of a do for the American GIs who have come to Liverpool. There she meets Wesley, who, as their relationship progresses, wants to move faster than Rita is comfortable with. He plays cruelly with her heart, not showing up for dates, refusing to call her. The most romantic thing he ever said to her is that she looked like a drowned rat. Eventually he's brought round to meet the aunts and he takes a real shine to Margo played by Billie Whitelaw. She instantly knows that this boy is after one thing and one thing only and is nowhere good enough for their Rita. Sadly for Rita, her heart is going to be broken. Now the handling of World War II is a bit like if the writers from Riverdale decided to take a stab at it, with laughable brawls between the Yanks and the Brits, but thankfully this is the backdrop, not the bones of The Dressmaker. The bones are the family unit; Aunts Nellie and Margo, Rita and her dad Jack. The way they bicker and carry on, it's comedic gold. This alone would have made it a good little movie, but the ending, oh, the ending takes it to a whole other level. I don't want to spoil it, I so don't, but I will say, the triumph on Joan Plowright's face as she stands atop the staircase would be worthy of Damehood if she wasn't one already!
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