Season 43 - Mr Selfridge Series 1 (2013)
Mr Selfridge is a series that really came into it's own over time. If it had kept on the self-indulgent and self-destructive trajectory of the first series it wouldn't have lasted beyond it's second series, and I wouldn't have watched another episode. Did anybody really want to watch the hallucinatory post car crash episode? NO! Well, probably Jeremy Piven, but no one else. Instead we were lucky enough to have four series, three of which understood that while Selfridge, the man and the establishment, were the glue that held the series together, it was really the supporting cast, the workers of said establishment, that made the show work. It was the romance of Henri and Agnes, Miss Mardle finding purpose in her life besides being Mr. Grove's mistress, Arthur Crabb just being Arthur Crabb, the unexpected alliance of Frank and Kitty, the machinations of Lord Loxley, the delights of Lady Mae, I could go on and on because there was so much to love in this show. But what really made the show click for me was that in series two, besides the tonal shift, I knew Rose Selfridge was on the way out. Here's the thing. Everyone has an actor or actress they just can't stand. Watching them is like having your eyes being slowly clawed out of their sockets or having really painful dental surgery. Well, for me, Frances O'Connor and that Jack Nicholson Joker-esque smile of hers is at the top of my hate list. The hate started for me with the horrific 1999 "adaptation" of Mansfield Park, of which the less said the better. My feelings were really solidified by the movie A.I., and well, the rest is history, as in, I historically and forevermore will hate her, no matter what, and I thank the stars above every day that the adaptation of the Locke and Key series with her as Nina wasn't picked up and want to hunt down whomever cast her on the second season of Wednesday, because how dare you pollute that gloriously dark show with her presence. Anyway, end rant. After the first series when the show was picked up for a second series I read a bit about Harry Gordon Selfridge to separate fact from fiction and see where this show might be headed and I saw that his beloved wife Rose, played by Frances O'Connor, died in the pandemic of 1918. Not good news for the real Rose, great news for me! All I had to do was get through her scenes in series two, which were minimized because of expanding the plotlines to include the supporting characters, and I'd be home free. Series three starts with a very welcome funeral. Sometimes the tragedies of life can make me happy and sometimes they can make me sad. Like the accusations against Jeremy Piven. While he's been tentatively welcomed back into film and television I will never watch him again. Which makes Mr Selfridge sadly something that will forever be in my past. I don't think I could ever bring myself to watch it again. So this is not only a salute to the show by a farewell. Listen to the victims and believe them. And never, ever, support abusers. Even if it means saying goodbye to something you once loved.
You might be wondering, why is she including Wednesday on her list of adaptations, it's not like it was a book...or was it? I'm putting this in under a technicality, because while Charles Addams created the cartoons for The New Yorker for the most part, they were later published in several books from Addams and Evil to Dear Dead Days. In fact I have a whole bookshelf groaning under the weight of all my Charles Addams books. There's even a cookbook which isn't for the faint of heart. I am an Addams Family connoisseur, I don't just have books, I have licensed artwork, Funko Pops, I have the entire Department 56 Addams Family Village, minus Fester with his light bulb and Wednesday and Pugsley with the guillotine, I have all the action figures, minus Wednesday, to the cartoon series, the SNES Addams Family video game is my favorite video game of all time and I can't count the number of times I've beat it, I have an original movie poster from 1991, and I don't know how many copies of the film I've gone through on different media from VHS to the "More Mamushka" Blu-ray release. The Addams Family is the story of my life. I remember a writing assignment in seventh grade that was actually Addams Family fanfic. Therefore Wednesday, well, it had to be something special to actually become a part of my own special Addams Family canon. I mean, Tim Burton was definitely the right choice despite not making a movie I liked since 2005, as was Jenna Ortega who proved her acting chops to me with her turn as Ellie in season two of You and I swear if they don't bring her back for the final season I will revolt. And yet I was hesitant to watch. I did't want to be disappointed. All my friends were texting me how good it was and yet I delayed, I mean the show went viral, that couldn't be good could it? Me, the girl who in 1999 had a Tim Burton film fest and who ranks The Addams Family with Raul Julia as one of her favorite movies ever just couldn't get up the nerve to watch the series. Obviously I wouldn't be writing this if I hadn't watched the show. And I enjoyed it. It wasn't phenomenal, but it was interesting and created it's own lore while at the same time paying homage to all the previous adaptations. The fan service was top notch, especially everything to do with the pilgrims, and if Christine Baranski doesn't get a role in season two I will weep. But here's the thing, the fan service is fun asides, or clever plot points, it never takes away from the whole. And Bridgerton could learn a lesson or two from Wednesday's modern cello covers. But what does take away from the show is the petty backbiting and a love triangle that's just too high school coupled with, but aren't both guys creeps? This makes it feel painfully YA at times and it detracts from the show. Just look to the 1991 version, that was rated PG-13, very close to the TV-14 of the show, and yet you never felt that it was childish. Perhaps with a teenage lead character it was bound to come across as childish occasionally, I just know they can do better, and I think Jenna Ortega agrees with me because next season there is going to be no love interest and more horror. Now that's what I like to hear. That and the sound of a well snapped finger.
This has been one strange year for fans of television. What with the strikes as I type this we don't even know if there will be an Emmy Awards Broadcast. Sure they say sometime in the new year, but I wouldn't trust studios, networks, or streaming services who won't even pay their employees a living wage. Seriously, just pay them already!* I mean, seriously, look at this past year, look at all the amazing shows, and get it into your heads that none of this would have been possible without the writers and actors. The losses you're taking are costing you more than if you were to just pay them. Now, to get off my soapbox, let's celebrate the wonderful shows that were adapted from books this year. I mean, we had the big fantasy epics from George R.R. Martin and J.R.R. Tolkien. We had the classics reinterpreted, from Tom Jones to Great Expectations to Dangerous Liaisons. We had the spooky and the kooky, from Lockwood and Co. to Wednesday to The Midnight Club. And these are just the shows I got around to watching! There were so many adaptations this year one has to wonder a little if there are any original ideas out there, but trust me, there are, just look to The Afterparty and Yellowjackets. Also, these adaptations showed what you could do with an open mind and a willingness to embrace the spirit of the source material but not be enslaved by it. There was rarely a show among these that I wouldn't be willing to watch again and again, like what I've done with the new season of Good Omens. So let's get this party started and join me in celebration of the wonders of adaptation.
