This show follows Mary’s efforts to give her family a better quality of life and social standing. Her method? Make her son George the king’s lover.
*****SPOILERS*****
Clever
There
were many intelligent moments.
Mary
tells George to believe his lies and, when he asks if she’s ever told one, she
says, “None, ever.” If you perceive it to be truthful, it can’t be false, so it
can’t be a lie.
Mary
says, “Leave my fucking boy alone,” the ‘fucking’ being used to emphasise her
meaning. Bacon replies, “That fucking boy,” here using ‘fucking’ as a verb,
thus making the meaning into ‘a boy used for fucking’. The same two words used
in the same order yet meaning completely different things.
Sir
Edward says, “from thence.” Considering ‘thence’ means ‘from there’, saying
‘from thence’ is clearly not grammatically correct. However, the fact that most
people don’t speak according to the strict rules of written language, it makes
characters more realistic.
George
set Sir Francis Bacon up for treason but makes Bacon believe it was Mary’s
fault. In retaliation, Bacon had Sandie (Mary’s lover) killed in revenge
against Mary. George kept on making use of the opportunities afforded to him.
The
show starts with Mary controlling George completely so that they can control
the king completely. By Episode Seven, their agendas no longer align. The king
pin-pongs between their suggestions, with Mary’s advice to the king
unintentionally leads to the king sentencing George to death. Doing something
(control the king) for a purpose (make her family’s lives better), when it
leads the opposite (George’s death would make her family’s lives worse) is
unfortunate.
George
wiped away his tear after killing the king (who’d just sentenced George to
death). I don’t think he’s crying over the loss of his lover but for the loss
of his power: it’s easier to get a lover to do something than your lover’s
child, especially when that lover has neglected that child in favour of that
lover.
Problems
There
were a few things that were off.
George
really went to town licking his fingers to prep the king for sex. If the king
was watching, it would make sense. But he wasn’t. So George’s display was a
little much.
At
the end of a meeting, Geroge pushes his chair under the table. Like some kind
of servant. Someone in his station at his time period would not have done that.
The
blood squirting from cutting Riley’s head off was entirely unnecessary. There was
no other moment in the entire show that had any amount of blood, so this amount
was wildly out of place.
Full
frontal nudity tapered out as episodes went on. To be dramatically brazen one
moment then completely absent the next was bizarre and extreme. Dichotomies like
these can be fine as long as they’re making a point: this one was not. To stop
this pointless dichotomy, the nudity in the beginning should have been toned
down.
In
Episode Six, George is all of a sudden conniving and participating in bribery.
In the previous five episodes, George had shown none of the tendencies or any thought
processes associated with these actions. So it seems like it’s come out of the
blue. As has his sudden ego and arrogance. For such major changes to happen, a
turning point needs to be shown on screen, or at least mentioned. Otherwise
behavioural and attitude changes don’t make sense. It goes to such an extreme
as George saying, “I am the power. I am the king. I am England.” Steady on!
Humour
This
show had a lot of dark humour (exactly my style) so I was definitely more
receptive to the jokes than some others.
The
series opens with George hanging himself. Mary cuts him down then says, “Good
morning, George,” with no inflection or concern in her voice. Either she’s
heartless or this is a common occurrence. Whichever it is, for a mother to lack
seriousness over something so serious smashes expectations, hence the humour.
Mary’s
daughter says, “Why does he get to stay?” and Mary replies, “Because he’s my
favourite.” Brutal.
George
takes Mary’s knife from her bedside draw (leaving it open) then fleeing to the
woods. Mary follows, sees George miming cutting horizontally, and then directs
the knife vertically, saying that’s how you do it properly.
Goerge
goes to confront Somerset and his wife, the latter saying of George, “She’s
even sweating, the poor bitch.”
After
a meeting, George justifies annoying the king by saying, “I was trying to be
fair,” to which the king replied, “I said seen to be fair!”
Listening
to his mother drone on, Geroge asks, “Is there a point?” to which Mary
responds, “Of course there is, I’m speaking.”
George
asked, “Are you trying to insult me?” to which the Spanish guy responds, “No,
your words and actions do that for you.” That’s some of the politest sass I’ve
ever seen.
Other
There
are a few other details I wish to mention.
George’s
attempts to use suicidal behaviour to get attention from his mother is
problematic. Both suicidal people and gay people are already accused of being
dramatic, so, on reflection, it wasn’t good to see both stereotypes reinforced
(even if they were reinforced in a very funny way). Obviously gay people and
suicidal people can be dramatic (just like anyone else) so I can’t condemn this
decision.
On
his visit to France, George sees his host order George’s recorder snapped. This
was heartbreaking because it was a present from his mentally challenged brother
John. Especially because when George stopped playing it, John asked, “Will you
make the music happen again?” So the recorder’s sentimental value was immense.
It was snapped for no reason so it was just cruel. Yes, the French host was
harsh on George, but those instances were to make him better at the task at
hand: they had a purpose. Snapping the recorder didn’t match this pattern.
Considering Mary told the French host all about George and what made him tick,
I doubt the French host didn’t know the recorder was from John, and there was
no way he didn’t know John was mentally challenged. So yes, snapping the
recorder was cruel rather than harsh. Harsh people often slip into cruelty so
this is consistent with the character.
In
the penultimate scene, George lies motionless on the floor, bleeding out after
being stabbed. One presumes he dies, in which case there can’t be a second
series of ‘Mary and George’ because, obviously, he’s dead. But maybe they can
have a second series, with one of two possibilities: one, George gets medical
help and is miraculously saved; two, the second series is named ‘Mary and X’,
replacing George’s name with another’s character. Who that might be, I don’t
know.
To
conclude, this was one of the most dynamic period dramas I’ve ever watched. It
brought a sense of humour that’s hardly seen in this genre whilst weaving in
intelligent thoughts and details. It was refreshing because there were no
fighting scenes, just court intrigue. It was nice to be truly entertained.
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