#and wheeler but his name is actually horatio but that was his dads name and we dont like his dad so he goes by wheeler

[pizza-feverdream]

There is SO much charactering going on right now YOU don't even KNOW

[thatsnotperiod-blog]

television. pilot. bbc’s jonathan strange and mr norrell is my favorite show i’ve never seen because its whole thing is making an interesting concept (magic) boring by piling on a regency setting, academia, and early 19th century british nationalism. 

Starts out with a raven. It seems hungry! Some guy is putting water and some other dumb crap (is that a broken pen?) in a bowl while his servants watch. He looks like a nerd. The magic didn’t work. But is he in want of a wife? 

He kind of bumbles out to a side street, and, TITLE. 

Sidestreet bumbler bumbles on past a bookstore and is observed in a sinister way by a man who looks really, really similar to him, but is actually a totally separate man. BBC original series are perilous like this. The sinister man is just getting a book so it’s fine though. Ah, Book People. 

Then a narrator tells me that, “Some years ago there was in York a society of magicians. They met on the third Wednesday of every month, and read each other long, dull papers upon the history of English magic.” The narrator is a dumb idea but just the phrase “dull papers” has my heart pounding. This narration is cut with Our Hero bumbling up to one such meeting, attended by the Most British-Looking Men Available, many in wigs. 

Our Hero is revealed to be an anxious-voiced dilettante called Mr Segundus and he wants to know, “Why is magic no longer done in England?” and his question is greeted with derision, which tells me a couple things, in order 1. that magic may be done elsewhere but certainly is not in France, because if the French were doing magic, Horatio Nelson would be doing it too 2. that magic is probably alive and well in Scotland 3. Mr Segundus must not be in want of a wife as clearly he is not in possession of a good fortune and Mrs Bennet will have to turn her sights elsewhere! 

Mr Segundus gets cornered outside by a man who introduces himself as Honeyfoot (lol) and it’s Brian Pettifer, one of the Several Actors of Britain! He was Couthon in that 2009 French Revolution movie, Mr Raggles in Vanity Fair, Wheeler in To the Ends of the Earth, Poupart (not Poptart) in the Musketeers, and many other things (Growler in Bleak House, Boycott in Garrow’s Law)! Good to see you, Brian Pettifer!

Anyway Honeyfoot (lol) is like, Mr Segundus I agree with you, people should be doing magic. But apparently the books about how to do it are super rare -- even in York! They hit up a book store, and seems like Segundus tried to reserve some magic books but the asshole store owner sold them already. Segundus, visibly deflated, asks if the guy has anything on “the nature of clouds” which, jesus, being a gigantic nerd in the 19th century is so fucking bleak if clouds is your fallback. OMG it was a ruse! While the guy is off looking for cloud books, Segundus hops over the counter and snatches the cash sheet to “find the devil who keeps swiping my books!”

Someone named Norrell, they discover, is the devil in question. They hop in a carriage to go find him. They talk magic on the way there, and Segundus says he bought a nonfunctional spell from a street magician who threw in a free prophecy: “Magic will be returned to England by two magicians.” 

Honeyfoot (lol) is like, “We are two magicians. John Segundus and Mr Honeyfoot (lol)” which is the same construction as the title of the show but ... not ... the right guys. Turns out the street magician set expectations already and Segundus shoots him down. RIP, John Segundus & Mr Honeyfoot, the Show That Never Was. 

They arrive at Mr Norrell’s pad and are admitted by the Sinister Bookstore Guy from earlier. Mr Norrell is a grouchy alpha nerd who has read Segundus’s publications but wants to throw out some criticism anyway. Segundus and Honeyfoot geek sweetly over Norrell’s library. Segundus repeats his question again and the camera zooms hard on Mr Norrell, who says, “It is a wrong question, sir. Magic is not ended in England. I myself am quite a tolerable practical magician.”

! O H S H I T !

Back at the York Society of Extremely British Men, this assertion is shouted down as “absolute tripe.” They decide that they’ll write to Norrell and ask him to show them some magic or shut up. 

York Minster. Nighttime. The Society approaches the front steps, observing that it’s the hour and place appointed but Norrell has clearly chickened out. 

“Mr Norrell concedes defeat!” says their beefiest guy. 

But then Sinister Bookstore guy (his name is Childermass, and I guess he’s Norrell’s servant) appears saying no, Norrell doesn’t concede shit, he’ll just be working from home today, and also he wants everybody to sign a contract promising they will no longer call themselves magicians if he succeeds at magic. Everybody signs, except Segundus, who is like “magic is my life u can’t take it.” Bleak.

Meanwhile Mr Norrell is doing a typical work-from-home where he’s watching Real Housewives of New Jersey in his PJs. Just kidding, he’s waving his hands over a bowl of water. How do people in this show keep themselves from accidentally doing magic while shaving?

The Society wanders into York Minster. Childermass, building his character, finds stuff to lean against. Bells chime.

And then, MAGIC! Some of the carvings at the top of the clustered columns in the nave are talking, and it is real creepy because they’re talking about a murder they witnessed, until the camera gets up there and they look like Statler and Waldorf. The York Society are all freaking out. 

Cut to the rood screen, which of course features statues of all the kings of England and they’re bickering. OK. There’s a Richard III joke which I tepidly laughed at. A carving of a woman with a harp is singing, and a statue of a former archbishop (as York Minster is, in fact, actually a cathedral) yells at Beefy in Latin.

Then the magic is over. Norrell, at home, collapses back in his chair, because a WFH day also involves a lot of early booze. The York Society is invigorated, then sad because they all signed the We’re Not Magicians paper. 

The next day, the York Society of No Longer Magicians is taking down all their signs (lol) while Childermass, building his character, leans back in their chairs and smokes. Segundus says he’s just happy that “magic is restored to England” but then, Segundus didn’t sign shit. 

“Do you think,” Segundus asks Childermass, “Mr Norrell would be offended if I wrote to the London newspapers of this?”

Childermass is like, yes he would be offended, but do it anyway: “I rather think my master has hidden his talent long enough. It’s time for him to take his place, and London is where I will take him.” 

OK then Mr. World’s Worst Press Secretary. 

Meanwhile! Elsewhere! A man rides a horse while Charlotte Riley (!) attends church. Horse Guy is bugging Charlotte Riley from the window, and she hilariously ignores him, but meets him on the way out. 

He’s listing the ways he has reformed himself for her, not playing cards, not flirting with anybody in Brighton (but the Bennets might be there!) not drinking as much, etc. His name is Jonathan, hers is Arabella, and apparently they are in love. All Arabella wants from him is for him to find “a way to occupy [his] time” instead of “perpetual holiday.” 

He gets on one knee, missing the point and saying that he sees he must act. 

“Jonathan,” she says. “Do not act. Think.”

The camera zooms to him to imply that this has not occurred before. 

*** IT’S DAD TIME ***

Jonathan is apparently being prevented from having any occupation by his Mean Old Dad, who tortures the servants and harangues his son for being useless. He sounds like the Mean Old Dad from Moulin Rouge a little.

But it gets worse! “You have proven yourself a failure at everything you have done,” says Mean Old Dad, “and you will have no assistance finding an occupation while I am yet living.”

Yikes! Later. 

Jonathan -- It’s Jonathan Strange, ok, it’s him, the other guy in the show -- is getting a drink with Arabella’s brother and probably venting about his Mean Old Dad. And, yep, there it is: “My father delights in torturing me, as he tortures his servants ... as he tortured my mother.” Wow, that’s the same word I used like two paragraphs up!

“All I’ve ever truly wished for was your sister,” says Strange, clearly thinking that is a sweet thing to say instead of a gross one. Arabrother leaves, and Strange empties a flask into his cup. wellllllllp.

Morning. Hangover. Someone is rapping at the chamber door. Strange’s servants are here to get him because his Mean Old Dad is locked in his office. Turns out he’s mean old dead!

Funeral. Strange triumphant. He wonders how long he should wait before asking Arabella to marry him. 

London! Norrell and Childermass in a carriage, reading Norrell’s press clips. He is causing Quite a Stir, which apparently is his intention, or Childermass’s. Norrell is pissed off that London is loud and expensive and that his WSJ crosshatch portrait isn’t flattering. OK, guy. They pass by a street magician who is talking about “the Raven King” and then gives Norrell the world’s weirdest stare. Norrell bitches that street magicians give the practice of magic an “such an appalling name” and Childermass does a stage mom thing where he tells Norrell that he is the only one who has any real talent and the future of his art depends on him: “This is what you have worked for. This is your great opportunity. If all goes well here, when folk think of a magician...”

“...They will think of myself,” says Norrell, with chilling self-reverence. Childermass gives him a little more pep talk and sends him out of the carriage. What -- what kind of dynamic did I just watch? 

New scene. Parliament. Somebody’s yelling, and -- is that Samuel West?! -- and Samuel West (!) is looking bored. Nobody told me Samuel West was in this show! Wow! Samuel West. 

Norrell is wandering boringly through the halls. 

Turns out Samuel West is the target of the parliamentary harangue (which is, from what I understand of Actual Parliament, just punching the clock for these guys) and has the decency to look a little ashamed of it. His name in the show is Sir Walter Pole, not Samuel West. He stands to rebut, and does so with all the sneering, grandstanding, and rhetorical posturing that constitute the parliamentary equivalent of “slow Monday.”

He tosses a zinger to the opposition leader on his way out, and Norrell tries to lobby him in the, uh, lobby. But Sir Walter just scoots into his office, and one of his servants shuts the door in Norrell’s face. The servant says, he knows Norrell has an appointment, but can they move the meeting to Chez Sir Walter instead of the office? 

Scene change. Chez Sir Walter. There’s a lady there who tries to snob Norrell, and it works until she hits on an academic subject. They discuss “fairy servants” and Norrell explains that fairies are trouble-with-a-capital-t-and-that-rhymes-with-p-and-that-stands-for-pool. 

The servant/scheduler from earlier is handing out tea, and we learn that his name is Stephen. 

Norrell states his intention: to use magic to help in the war. Sir Walter is totally snowed by this, and thinks maybe magic could be used to clean up uniforms or like, entertain people maybe? He Doesn’t Get It. Norrell, clearly the IT guy of his day, heaves a sigh.

There’s a young woman coughing pathetically and curled up on a chaise longue in the background, and Sir Walter introduces her as his fiancée Emma, like it’s totally normal to be this sick in somebody’s living room. Norrell is very surprisingly sweet to her, and she says she’s pretty into magic. Norrell suggests hot tea with lemon and nutmeg for her cough. Sir Walter kicks him out with a lecture: “Magic is not respectable. The government cannot meddle in such things.” OK.

“How’d it go?” says Childermass, back in the carriage.

“Very well,” says Norrell, on the verge of tears. I’m not letting go of the stage mom analogy because it seems to get more and more on the nose. Norrell notices they’re not going home, and Childermass says nope, they’re going Lady Godstone’s house: “It’s a soiree.”

“A party?” says Norrell, looking devastated. “I wish to go home and read a book.”

Norrell at a party. It’s like those MBTI specialized hells, and this is INTJ hell. It’s crowded, people are laughing, and Norrell doesn’t know anyone, but they’re all gossiping about him. Norrell escapes INTJ Hell and shuts himself in the host’s library, or INTJ Heaven. Ah, dichotomy. 

After a minute of Alone Time with Books, Norrell is interrupted by two Party People. Party Guy 1 is harassing the Party Guy 2, apparently the host, about how Norrell was promised, but no magic seems to have been did. “That gentleman is reading a book!” he says, of Norrell, to demonstrate how boring and amagical the party is. 

Norrell interrupts them and kind of says hi I’m the guy you’re talking about. They both recover awkwardly. Party Guy 2 introduces himself as Drawlight, and Party Guy 1 as Lascelles. Drawlight tries to drag Norrell out to introduce him to people and Norrell slips out the back. 

He’s met at outside by like the street magician from earlier, who says some creepy stuff to him: “You think yourself a very fine fellow, hoarding books like a miser hoards gold. But I have a book you won’t find in your library, or any other.”

Norrell tries to get back inside, but the doors have locked behind him. 

“It’s written by the Raven King,” says the creepy guy. Norrell makes the face I make when someone tells me they saw a spider in their shower five years ago, which is to say absolute living nightmare horror. “And it tells me all about you.”

Creepy Guy introduces himself as Vinculus, magician of Threadneedle Street, so abruptly that Norrell almost pees. He goes on that Norrell’s coming was foretold, and while he’s doing this he’s leaning in and menacing him in like, kind of an overboard way? 

Norrell scoots away and, feeling safer, snottily shouts that magic can’t tell the future and only total hacks make prophecies. He undermines this by continually yelling for Childermass. 

Vinculus keeps going: Two magicians will appear in England, one will be Fearfulness and one will be Arrogance. Some stuff will happen, both will fail, some other stuff. Norrell is stuck on the two magicians thing. Vinculus wanders off, and Norrell shouts for Childermass again. He looks really scared! 

Back Chez Norrell, Childermass is trying to calm Norrell down, and asks what Vinculus wanted. Norrell hysterics that he mentioned a book, “and if he does have a book, I want it, and then I want to go home to Yorkshire.” 

Childermass plays hardball: “Do you wish to make a success of this, or do you not?”

New Day. Childermass watches Vinculus sell spells on the street. Norrell meets Drawlight and Lascelles in his house and, surprise surprise, they want a favor, to be the guys who get credit for discovering him. Norrell is refusing, he doesn’t want to attend parties or do dumb stuff, he wants to go home.

Meanwhile, Vinculus and Childermass are talking brass tacks about whether Norrell will get Vinculus’s book. Childermass chooses an odd method of intimidation by like, threateningly whipping out some tarot cards to tell Vinculus’s fortune. I mean, if that’s worked before... Vinculus tries to one-up him by telling Norrell’s fortune. Is this like, a tarot duel? Vinculus has turned all the cards to kings, and says it means that “the Raven King is coming.” Childermass is pissed that his cards are all messed up now. I know!

Chez Norrell. On their way out, Drawlight and Lascelles gleefully mention that Sir Walter’s fiancée is dead. Well, she was pretty sick. Norrell starts to mutter about how hard it is to bring someone back from the dead. Drawlight transparently eggs him on. 

“I will need to send for more books,” says Norrell. He’s so into this plan! 

New scene. Jonathan Strange finds some peasants doing something poor, and rides up to interfere. They explain that they’ve found a magician sleeping under the hedge. What? Sure. It’s Vinculus. 

Vinculus wakes up, stares right at Jonathan, and gives him the two magicians, Fear and Arrogance, speech while stumbling around. Jonathan Strange looks very confused. He’s also holding a large stick for reasons that are obscure to me. Vinculus tells Strange that he is destined to become a great magician. Strange pokes him with his stick and tells him to choose someone else, because it sounds like being a magician sucks. Still, he buys two spells from Vinculus, probably because a nice patrician power move is to condescendingly buy someone’s wares. 

That night at dinner, Strange is telling Arabella about his big plan for the farm he’s inherited, and she laughs at him because the plan is bad.

“Very well, I’m going to study magic,” he says. Arabella and her brother are shocked. They all look at the spells and Strange decides to like, do one, right there at the table. It’s a spell to discover what your enemy is doing presently. It works, and Strange sees a stranger, apparently his enemy, in a mirror. 

“Good magicians conjure up fairy spirits and long-dead kings,” says Strange. “I appear to have summoned the spirit of a banker.” It’s Mr Norrell. Ha!

London, Norrell. He arrives at Sir Walter’s house with a huge book. Sir Walter gives him access to the room where Poor Dead Emma is like, dead. Norrell shuts them out, alone with the corpse, and opens his book, looking terrified. 

There’s silence, and something rattles, and a man with Ziggy Stardust hair and huge eyebrows appears. He’s also got a synthed voice and a weird jacket that I can’t pause on to figure out. He is clearly a fairy, and Norrell clearly summoned him, and he acknowledges that Norrell is destined to return magic to England. He does some back and forth about “what do I get if I resurrect this woman.” He wants to help Norrell and get credit, Norrell wants him to do this one quick necromancy and never be summoned again. The fairy does the old “maybe I will take my business to your competitor” and Norrell freaks out: “There is no other magician.”

“Of course there is another magician,” says the fairy. “He is your dearest friend in all the world.”

“I have no friends,” says Norrell. I laugh. He asks the fairy again if he can do the necromancy. 

The fairy says, if he gets half of Emma’s life, it’s on. Norrell looks sad, but then he asks if they should sign something. The fairy is like no, I’ll just take something of Emma’s. The shadow of his hand stretches over her. Yikes!

Cut to Drawlight and Lascelles hanging out downstairs. They hear a woman scream. Double yikes! Everybody runs upstairs and Emma is fighting her way out of her funeral shroud. Triple yikes! Her mother points out that half of her little finger on her left hand is missing. Quadruple yikes! She brushes it off, looking out of it, and asks Sir Walter to dance with her. 

Norrell zombie-walks out to his carriage. Quintuple yikes!

Until next time, Favorite Show!