This episode, as well as the chapters they’re based on, are all about intel gathering. As Lyra goes to a natural history museum and a nearby college to learn more about this world’s understanding of Dust, Will contacts the family lawyer and learns that his paternal grandparents are living in Oxford.
There are some minor changes between this material and the book, but some of Jack Thorpe’s earlier creative decisions are beginning to pay off. Most of them involve Lord Boreal, who has emerged as an active cohort of Mrs Coulter, revealed last season as a man who had access to the windows across dimensions.
At the time it felt like padding, but now we can see how it fits into the wider narrative: Pullman doesn’t bother to explain any of Lord Boreal's movements or abilities in the book – he coincidentally spots Lyra at the museum and she vaguely recognizes him from the cocktail party way back in Northern Lights.
No spoilers, but his part to play is very minor and we get no understanding whatsoever as to how he managed to move from one world to the next. Here, we know that he’s also been using the window that Lyra and Will have accessed (and presumably, several more) making it far less of a coincidence that he would be at the right time and place to spot them emerging from the traffic island into the streets of Will’s Oxford.
He’s obviously able to recognize Lyra, but Thorpe has also written him as the man behind the pursuit of John Parry’s letters, giving the children a common enemy and providing linkage between their parallel quests. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but well played Jack Thorpe. It makes me wonder if some of his other additions (the witch politics, the Magisterium machinations) will have a greater narrative purpose than just filling in time.
The main thrust of this episode was Lyra and Will running their various errands throughout Oxford. Lyra goes in search of a scholar that can teach her more about Dust, though not before exploring this alt-world’s version of Oxford and noticing some eerie details – the same initials carved into a wall, several artefacts at the museum that are identical to the ones she used in her journey to Bolvangar – sadly none of this makes it into the episode, though for the most part her discoveries adhere closer to the book than Will’s do.
She sees the trepanned skulls at the museum, has her first encounter with Lord Boreal (now Charles Latrom) and is led by the alethiometer to the offices of Mary Malone, physicist.
For whatever reason, the screenplay doesn’t use the narrative link Pullman establishes between the trepanned skulls and Mary’s decision to humour Lyra (there Lyra mentions that the alethiometer has told her the trepanned skulls are far older than the museum display claims, which rattles Mary because she’s already reached a similar conclusion after hooking them up to the Cave and seeing how they interact with the Shadow-particles) but instead has Lyra take the emotional angle and start the story with her grief over Roger’s death.
For what it’s worth, I think Simone Kirby is perfect as Mary. She’s a little older than the book describes, and I didn’t expect her to be Irish (though her surname tells us as much) but she certainly captures the woman’s kindness, intellect and calm.
The dynamic has definitely been tweaked however, with Mary going from a harried, about-to-be-unemployed researcher whose attitude toward Lyra’s appearance is the embodiment of John Mulaney’s “well, this might as well happen” comment (with Lyra riding that wave of distraction to get the answers she wants) to a more thoughtful and empathetic bond between the two.
Admittedly, there was a lot of exposition to wade through here: Mary’s explanation of dark matter research, the purpose and findings of the Cave, how it reacts to Lyra and the alethiometer, why Dust clusters around man-made objects, that there are other ways of communicating with it (including Mary’s I Ching), and how all that fits in with what we already know about the concept of it.
It all points towards one stunning conclusion: that Dust is not only conscious, but has something to say to people who know how to communicate with it. Just as Lyra can talk to Dust through the intermediary of the alethiometer, so too can Mary use the Cave to gain similar results (though the episode leaves out Lyra urging Mary to modify the computer so that it speaks clear words – not symbols – to her. Maybe that’ll come up next week).
It’s a lot to absorb, and though it can’t grasp the sheer thrill of what it’s like to read this chapter for the first time and gradually piece together all the disparate parts of the concept Pullman has assembled, it’s still an incredible bit of drama that relies not on big action set pieces or undying declarations of love to stir the imagination, but on conveying a barrage of information and discovery and opportunities that we’re left to ponder – like Mary – in the wake of Lyra’s sudden departure.
This is why the trilogy so captivated me as an eleven-year old: it was asking me to consider the possibilities of both fiction (how we tell stories; what they can be about) and reality (how we exist in the world; the nature of sentient life) in a way that nothing else ever had.
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Meanwhile, Will is going through some revelations of his own, and Thorpe certainly takes a few more artistic liberties in his subplot: he goes back to visit his mother (without letting her know she’s there), goes to visit the family lawyer in person (in the book it was just over the phone) and from her, discovers that he has paternal grandparents living in the city.
This was certainly not in the book, and I questioned its inclusion until it became apparent that it was another way of drawing the authorities closer to Will and Lyra, especially since Lord Boreal is working alongside the police officer that’s been given the tip-off by Will’s grandfather.
For what it’s worth, Book!Will does significant research at the library to discover that his father was an Artic explorer who went missing with his entire team during (and here’s where the book dates itself!) the height of the Cold War. It’s excluded here because – if memory serves – those details have already been covered in the first season.
And the two children meet up again in the Botanic Gardens. Specifically on a bench, thereby setting us all up for the heartache that’s to come. Again, well played Jack Thorpe.
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Unfortunately the Magisterium’s scenes are still a snore, though like I said above, Lord Boreal’s early scenes are starting to pay off, so maybe these will too eventually. I liked some of the choices of daemons among the clergy – a surplus of lizards and insects and German Shepherds, though Mrs Coulter has gone full Maleficent, with black lipstick and what looked like glittery shoulder pads.
She seems to have been scheming and plotting within the ranks of the Magisterium, but whatever. Now that other clergy guy is in charge, and it doesn’t really mean a lot or have much bearing on the story. At the moment. Still trying to retain my newfound faith that this might pay off in a significant way later down the track.
Going from the dullest subplot to the downright strangest, we’ve got Serafina Pekkala sending Doctor Lanselius to the Magisterium as a “peace envoy” in the wake of the head cardinal’s murder at the hands of Queen Ruta.
Yeah, I’m not buying this. Why the hell would Serafina be interested in “mutual tolerance” with the church at this point? Not only does she not give a shit about them at the best of times, but this is occurring after she witnessed their horrific experimentations on the children at Bolvangar. There’s absolutely no way she would be interested in offering an olive branch to the church after what she’s seen. It’s open war by this point, and Serafina certainly didn’t need any other motivation to go after them than what she saw at Bolvangar.
But they give her one anyway, with the Magisterium air-force (I’m guessing that’s what it is) dropping naptham bombs all over the witch enclave. So now it’s personal I guess.
Oh, NOW you care about what the Magisterium is up to? |
At least we get the chance to see Omid Djalili as Lanselius again, and in the midst of my scoffing about how this is all totally pointless, he drops the bomb about how witches are able to long-distantly separate from their daemons by going to a particular place and forcibly removing themselves from each other’s presence. This is of course very important to know, as Lyra and Pan will end up in a similar location in The Amber Spyglass. The question is: will audiences remember that by the time it becomes relevant?
(And for the record, Serafina did go and visit Lanselius – and Thorold for that matter – in the book, but it was of the “keep the home fires burning” variety, as well as the gathering of information. And all that stuff about Lanselius revealing he’s the offspring of a witch and a human is unique to the series, though there’s nothing in the book to indicate that isn’t the case).
So this was very much an episode that shifted things into place. Mary has been introduced, Will and Lyra have a clearer idea of what they’re meant to do, Serafina gets (totally unnecessary) motivation, and the bad guys are moving into phase two of their plan – whatever that might be.
It still feels like an improvement on the previous season, and with the board set, we can continue moving forward. Bring on that knife!
Miscellaneous Observations:
Not to keep harping on the trepanned skulls, but they’re important for another reason – they’re a subtle reminder of the search for John Parry, considering the head of “Stanislaus Grumman” also went through the trepanning procedure.
Though Lyra was a little uncertain in this new Oxford (especially with the shock of Jordan College not existing) she was considerably more blasé about the whole thing than in the book. Though I was once again sympathetic towards those who were frustrated at the swapping-out of Lyra for Will as the protagonist when the alethiometer instructs her to help Will find his father. Her quest has markedly been subsumed by his, and now she’s his helpmate. Maybe it’s deliberate given her true name, but it’s also annoying.
I’ve noticed there have been more variations in Pan’s transformations. I guess you’ve got a bigger budget when there’s no giant polar bear wandering around.
It was a cute moment when Will told Lyra “no capes”, which captured her attention-seeking nature and his acquired talent of going unnoticed. It’s a pity though that they took out some of Lyra’s internalized sexism: saying “don’t be stupid, I’m a girl” when Will suggests she wears pants instead of a skirt (here she’s just wearing pants with no comment) and her mild surprise that the scholar is a woman.
Father McPhail (I had to look up that name) has a line describing: “a clarity of purpose that cuts through my grief like a knife.” I see what you did there, Jack Thorpe. It’s up there with Mary admonishing her colleague to: “have a little faith.”
But every religious fanatic apparently needs a scene of self-harm to demonstrate their craziness, and here it’s Father McPhail lowering his hand into a candleflame. Remember the albino flogging himself in The Da Vinci Code? Remember how dumb that was? Yeah, I think I’ve had my fill of religious nuts as villains. You’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.
Will somehow has enough money to buy a new cell-phone (why does he need it?) though I liked how the episode made the natural comparison between it and the alethiometer as sources of information.
Another big difference from the book is that Thorold has been taken captive by the Magisterium, presumably so that he can rely important information about Lyra’s whereabouts to Mrs Coulter. Now she knows that Lyra followed Asriel into the new world. It’s funny in a way, because Pullman just doesn’t bother with this sort of dot-connecting. People end up where they need to be, and it doesn’t matter how or why they got there. (In fact it adds to the scariness of the villains – that they have so much amorphous power at their disposal).
I noted with interest that Lyra is still referring to Roger’s death as a “betrayal” on her part, so I wonder if Thorpe is going to stick with that as the true interpretation of the prophecy. Let’s face it, Pullman’s eventual answer to this question very much felt like he made it up on the spur of the moment, and he stretches the definition of “betrayal” even more than he did with “murderer”.
I couldn't help noticing that this was the first episode with another writer credited (Francesca Gardiner, also a co-executive producer on the second series of Killing Eve).
ReplyDeleteI think Lyra's surprise that the scholar was a woman might have made considerably less sense today than it did in 1997. Perhaps not unthinkable, but it would certainly seem a bit odd.
I couldn't help noticing that this was the first episode with another writer credited (Francesca Gardiner, also a co-executive producer on the second series of Killing Eve).
DeleteOh yeah... and it looks like she's written episode five by herself.
I think Lyra's surprise that the scholar was a woman might have made considerably less sense today than it did in 1997. Perhaps not unthinkable, but it would certainly seem a bit odd.
But Lyra comes from her own world, which has 19th-century era gender roles, and she carries around its prejudices. From "Northern Lights": "She regarded female scholars with a proper Jordan disdain: there were such people but, poor things, they could never be taken more seriously than animals dressed up and acting a play."
I still think there might have been some executive decision somewhere that they couldn't have someone express surprise that an academic is a woman. Irrespective of whether or not it makes sense in context.
DeleteYeah I can see that. It could be why they also dropped her refusal to wear pants. Which is a shame; I liked that little flaw.
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