Inspired by the very (very) brief reign of Queen Jane, the Amazon series has fun rewriting Tudor history — complete with magical creatures.
“My Lady Jane,” whose eight-episode first season is available now, on Amazon, seems to be in the vein of “The Great” or “Bridgerton,” irreverent historical fiction with aggressively contemporary mores and scores. But it is perhaps better understood as a fantasy comedy because not only does it break with history, it breaks with reality: It is Tudor palace intrigue with shape-shifting, a joyful and breathless more-more-more. A lot of “Jane” adheres, happily, to genre conventions, but it is done with a well-pitched playfulness. Even the stained glass in so many of the backgrounds has a funfetti color scheme.
Our heroine is Lady Jane Grey (Emily Bader), a multilingual genius and healer who is at the mercy of a harsh mother (Anna Chancellor) and a cruel system. “I will do everything in my power to get out of this marriage,” she swears. “Jane, you have no power,” her mother replies. Well, we’ll see about that.
Jane’s power comes from her intelligence, resolve and pluck, but some folks around her have another power: ethians, scorned and abused by conventional humans, known as verity, can turn into animals. Jane’s trusty maid (Mairead Tyers) is also a hawk, and now that you mention it, that dog hanging around does seem unusually nosy. If you’re ever confused about how it all works, frequent snarky narration fills in the blanks and adds to the show’s cheeky charm.
“Jane” takes its historicity lightly and chemistry seriously. Jane is forced to marry the smug Lord Guildford Dudley (Edward Bluemel), and over the course of the season, they have a real Chuck and Blair pas de deux, an inevitable enemies-to-lovers arc made festive with seething and swordplay. Jane’s more dangerous nemesis is Mary (Kate O’Flynn), a scheming loose cannon with an always-a-bridesmaid complex, and when the two battle — sometimes physically, sometimes verbally, sometimes just with stare-downs — the whole show trembles.
Early in the season, one of the more sheltered characters learns about flipping the bird and gets a huge thrill from deploying the gesture, which becomes a little running joke through the show. Is this the most mature experience a person can have? I guess not. But assessing a situation — a rude person, a flawed monarchy or even a well-worn TV subgenre — and deciding that what it truly merits is a grand one-finger salute? Ah, what a rush.
Source: Television - nytimes.com
