Masterpiece (TV Program)

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    ‘Guilt’ Review: When the Lights Go Out in Edinburgh

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    The final season of Scotland’s most notable TV drama, on PBS’s “Masterpiece,” is a suitably twisty and sardonic send-off for the battling McCall brothers.Contains spoilers for Seasons 1 and 2 of “Guilt.”“Guilt,” a pioneering series in Scottish television — it was the first drama commissioned by the newly formed BBC Scotland channel in 2019 — has built an audience well beyond its borders. A melancholy tale of family dysfunction presented as a complicated crime thriller, it combines British regionalism with peak TV-style poker-faced comedy in a way that has made it a critical darling around the world.Created and written by Neil Forsyth, “Guilt” has arrived in dense, lively four-episode bursts; the third and final season has its American premiere on PBS’s “Masterpiece” beginning Sunday. Each installment has been organized around a psycho-philosophical theme: first guilt, then revenge in Season 2, and now, as Forsyth described it in a BBC interview, redemption.But the pleasure of the show does not come from diagraming its moral lessons (unless that’s your thing), or from unwinding Forsyth’s sometimes maddeningly convoluted plots, which entangle sons and daughters of Edinburgh’s rough-and-tumble Leith district with the city’s gangsters, cops and politicians.What makes “Guilt” worthwhile is Forsyth’s knack for creating characters who work their way into our affections, less by their actions than by their unconscious, soul-deep responses to life in the grim confines of Leith and the promise of something better in Edinburgh’s more comfortable precincts.At the center of the web are Max and Jake McCall (Mark Bonnar and the marvelous Jamie Sives), brothers with very little use for each other who become bound in a seemingly endless cycle of lies, danger and recrimination. It begins in the opening minutes of Season 1 when Jake, with Max in the car’s passenger seat, accidentally runs into an old man, killing him. Jake, a gentle soul with an encyclopedic knowledge of pop music (he could have wandered in from a Nick Hornby novel), wants to call the police; Max, a rapacious lawyer with a near-sociopathic lack of empathy, says no.This is the original sin for which the brothers are still paying. Covering up their hit-and-run homicide embroils them with the Lynches, a married pair of quietly vicious gangsters whom Max and Jake are both on the run from, and scheming to take down, across the show’s three seasons. While the brothers work together for survival, they are also at each other’s throats, taking turns ruefully betraying each other, leading to imprisonment, exile and worse.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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      in Television

      ‘Annika’ Review: The Detective Would Like to Have a Word With You

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      Nicola Walker plays a cop who works out her issues by talking to the audience in a “Masterpiece” mystery on PBS.A detective whose unit investigates waterborne crimes walks onto a bridge, looks into the camera and says, “Call me Annika.” She then proceeds to chat with the audience about Ahab and his white whale while she watches a murder victim being pulled from the River Clyde.That was our introduction to the British crime drama “Annika,” and through two seasons (the second premieres Sunday as part of PBS’s “Masterpiece”) the heroine has continued to talk to the audience: agonizing over her complicated relationships, thinking through her cases, delivering deadpan ripostes unheard by the other characters onscreen. And in each episode she invokes a literary work — “Twelfth Night,” “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” a Scottish ballad about a kidnapped child — that ties into that week’s story in subtle or, somewhat more often, obvious ways.That might sound like a double deal-breaker, and I clicked away from “Annika” the first time I heard the words “Moby-Dick.” But I knew I would return to it, because Annika Strandhed, the Norwegian-born, Glasgow-based cop, is played by Nicola Walker — an actress whose ubiquity on British television is entirely justified by the wry, layered humanity she brings to all her characters. Walker’s ability to flesh out the emotions lurking beneath self-consciousness and awkwardness makes the first-person conceit of “Annika” not just tolerable but apt and engaging.The prominence of her voice in the series also flows naturally from the show’s source, “Annika Stranded,” a BBC drama podcast about an Oslo homicide detective that was a solo showcase for Walker. (Both shows were created by Nick Walker, who is no relation to Nicola Walker, if you can believe it.) The television show supplies Annika, who relocates to Glasgow to lead a fictional outfit called the Marine Homicide Unit, with a three-person investigative team, a lonely but good-humored teenage daughter and a sometime love interest, who happens to be the daughter’s therapist.That’s a standard complement for a series of this type, and aside from the protagonist’s fourth-wall-breaking, “Annika” is a typical British cop show, in the categories of regional and serio-comic. It boasts lovely Scottish scenery, with side trips to places like Edinburgh and the Hebrides, and spends a lot of its time on or near the water. It’s a dead-body-of-the-week show with a sense of humor that is perched comfortably between dark and twee; it could be a more literate, more serious cousin of “Midsomer Murders” or “Monk.”The homicide cases mostly have the eccentric origins that this subgenre calls for — a tech billionaire drowned in his basement aquarium; a body pulled out of the North Sea encased in a block of ice — and their solutions can seem almost beside the point, an impression that grows stronger in the new season. The forensics sessions and computer searches and sudden flashes of deduction have a cookie-cutter familiarity; the most invigorating aspect of the police work is the show’s fetish for slapstick foot chases, which commence about twice an episode.A little perfunctoriness in the mysteries can be excused, though, given the overall pleasure to be had from Walker’s performance. Annika tends to her team more or less ably, but her work suffers from the strain she puts on herself by making a hash of her personal life. She is buoyant and fun-loving beneath a heavy mantle of fierce Nordic repression, and Walker’s mastery of stumbles, stammers and brief, piercing embarrassment keeps us on the character’s side.Walker has a natural genius for establishing rapport with an audience, demonstrated in domestic melodramas like “The Split” and “Last Tango in Halifax” and in a succession of crime dramas. The best of those was the wonderful cold-case series “Unforgotten,” which she led for four seasons until her character was killed off in an arbitrary and dramatically unsatisfying fashion. “Unforgotten” returned for a fifth season last month (also on “Masterpiece”) with a new detective played by Sinead Keenan, and it was still very good — taken as a whole, it’s superior in writing (by Chris Lang) and direction (by Andy Wilson) to “Annika.” But without Walker, it doesn’t speak to us in quite the same way. More

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      Review: ‘Unforgotten’ Makes the Case for Decency

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      In its fourth season on “Masterpiece,” the cold-case drama keeps its delicate balance of mystery, melodrama and compassion.During four seasons on ITV, the British police drama “Unforgotten” has slowly and quietly built an audience and a reputation, an appropriate method for a show in which the main characters rarely raise their voices and are immediately ashamed of themselves when they do. (The show’s six-episode fourth season begins on Sunday on PBS’s “Masterpiece.”) More

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      in Movies

      ‘Elizabeth Is Missing’ Review: Glenda Jackson’s Return to TV

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      #masthead-section-label, #masthead-bar-one { display: none }The Best of 2020Best ComedyBest TV ShowsBest BooksBest MoviesBest AlbumsAdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main story‘Elizabeth Is Missing’ Review: Glenda Jackson’s Return to TVThe renowned actress stars as a woman fending off dementia while she searches for a lost friend.Glenda Jackson in “Elizabeth Is Missing.”Credit…Mark Mainz/STV Productions/PBSJan. 1, 2021, 1:56 p.m. ETThe BBC television movie “Elizabeth Is Missing” — a stand-alone episode of “Masterpiece” on PBS this Sunday — contains Glenda Jackson’s first screen performance since 1992. That certainly merits attention — Jackson, now 84, is one of the most technically accomplished and ferociously intelligent actresses of our time. Did it merit the rapturous British reviews on its release in 2019 and perhaps inevitable awards, including a BAFTA and an international Emmy, that she received for it? Not really, but it isn’t Jackson’s fault.You can see the appeal to Jackson of “Elizabeth Is Missing,” which was adapted by the actress and writer Andrea Gibb from a mystery novel by Emma Healey. The central character, Maud, who is moving from forgetfulness into dementia, is onscreen virtually the entire time, whether in the present or as her teenage self (played by Liv Hill) in a parallel story line set 70 years ago. The progress of the film largely takes place through Jackson’s twofold embodiment of Maud’s decline and of her stubborn, often angry battle to delay and deny it.The story puts Maud in a situation full of dramatic promise: her best friend, Elizabeth, has suddenly disappeared, and Maud is determined to find her despite the inconvenient fact that she can’t convince anyone that Elizabeth is actually gone. Scrawling notes to herself about Elizabeth’s glasses and some suspiciously broken vases, Maud carries on her investigation in fits and starts, picking it up again whenever she remembers that Elizabeth is missing.It’s a great setup for a straightforward mystery, but “Elizabeth Is Missing” is more complicated than that, and while you can’t hold that ambition against it, you might wish that you were watching something simpler. Maud’s search for Elizabeth is woven together with the disappearance of Maud’s married older sister in 1950. Events in the present and past continually mix in Maud’s mind, her memories triggered by objects or phrases in ways that are artful and a little too self-conscious.The mystery-novel structure of the story turns out to be both a feint and a reality, something that becomes predictable fairly early on and is disappointing in the final result. We’re supposed to be getting a deeper satisfaction from the detailed depiction of Maud and her affliction, and the neatly arranged thematic resonance between the two story lines, revolving around what it really means to be missing.But despite the efforts of the talented director Aisling Walsh (“Maudie”), who gives the film a welcome restraint and clarity, “Elizabeth Is Missing” doesn’t hit the mark — the screenplay is too fussy and tricky, and the resolution to the twin mysteries, with its mixed notes of heroism and resignation, isn’t convincing. (Walsh’s final image, a long shot of Maud crossing a street alone in mourning clothes, has a power lacking in the rest of the film.)But as you could expect, it contains a mostly faultless performance by Jackson, one that’s certainly worth 87 minutes of your viewing time. (It might also remind you that despite Jackson’s stature, and some high points like “Sunday Bloody Sunday” and “The Return of the Soldier,” her screen résumé isn’t all that distinguished.)She doesn’t play for our sympathy — she leans into the character’s frustration and irascibility, making it clear how difficult she is to deal with. And she communicates Maud’s flickering moods and perceptions precisely and indelibly, in the way she briskly taps a notecard when Maud makes a connection or in a quick, shattering moment when she silently screams with frustration at a restaurant, conscious of not making (too much of) a scene. Maud may not come fully alive in the script, but there’s nothing missing in Jackson’s portrayal.AdvertisementContinue reading the main story More