[6.0/10] I can't tell if this is an unavailing episode of All Creatures Great and Small, or if it’s just been six months since I last saw the show so I’m no longer inured to its middlebrow sappiness. Suffice it to say, there’s some merit to this episode, but as it embarks on its fourth season, the series returns with the same kind of blunt predictable storytelling and shallow feelgoodery that pervaded the show’s weaker outings.
But other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?
This makes me sound more down on the episode than I am. It’s fine. It does what you expect of All Creatures if you’ve been watching the show for three seasons. There’s (very) gentle humor and animals who need helping and low-stakes personal drama and Hallmark Channel-esque sob stories with townsfolk that always end on an uplifting note. I can knock the series for quality, but I can't knock it for giving the people what they want.
My favorite of the stories we get here is Mrs. Hall wanting to file for divorce. What does it mean to be a religious woman and victim of domestic abuse striving to make a clean break in 1930s rural England? That's a fascinating thing to explore. So naturally, it gets about six minutes of total screen time. But still, Mrs. Hall struggling with the fact that it’s not just a ministerial act to get a legal decree of divorce, but one that requires her to dredge up the painful history of her marriage, share events she considers private with a third party, and question whether she’s violating a promise she made before God. That's all meaty stuff, and as usual, Anna Madeley plays it all with a suitably restrained but layered approach.
As with most endings on All Creatures, the resolution to the subplot is a bit tidy. But it’s still nice to see Siegfried support her in as tactful and considerate a manner as he can muster, even offering her the privacy of his study in which to write her statement without disturbance. The show seems pretty plainly pointing toward the two as an item in the future, with poor Gerald as the Baxter, so if that's the direction, it’s nice to see Mr. Farnon being sensitive and considerate to Mrs. Hall.
I’m more lukewarm on Siegfried’s other stories. There’s something comparatively understated about him being irritable and angsty given his feelings about Tristan’s absence. Nobody ever vocalizes that it’s the reason for his perturbed state of being, which counts as restraint for this show. But all of the conversation about the ill sheep blaming its spawn for the pain, and the sheep’s owner being lonely from the absence of his family members, and Mrs. Hall telling him that sometimes it helps to write it all down makes it fairly obvious. Farnon’s part of the episode is full of “Hooray for Metaphors” moments, even if they don’t make it explicit, which makes things pretty tiresome. Still, it’s nice that they’re still acknowledging Tristan’s absence and the gap it leaves in the lives of the residents of Skeldale house.
The comedy here is sitcom-y and tepid. Siegfried looking frantically for where his erstwhile employees hid his tobacco during Lent is broad and schticky. Helen ordering too many supplies and hiding them around the house is a pale rendition of an I Love Lucy story. The two of them admitting that neither of them is perfect is a nice enough detente, but at best, the comic subplots here belong in “Sensible Chuckle Magazine”.
James’ story isn’t much better. THere’s a terribly predictable trajectory to him being thwomped by a young lad with a sick dog, thinking the boy is a bad apple only to find out he has a heart of gold, and then eventually finding him a place where he can be fulfilled and earn his keep. It’s the kind of saccharine story this show’s done a lot already, made all the cheaper for invoking a poor orphan with a sick pet to do it. I will say there’s some cleverness and clockwork in resolving James’ rough-edged orphan and Siegfried’s lonely client problems by putting them together. And hey, James getting suckerpunched by a ten-year-old is weirdly satisfying. Let’s see if he still thinks he should go to war after getting taken down by someone still in primary school.
Otherwise, this episode is what it is. There’s some cute moments between James and Helen, some gorgeous scenic shots of Yorkshire, and some faux-emotional highpoints where the score is overwhelming. But for the most part, All Creatures Great and Small remains what it’s been: superb in its craft, facile in its storytelling, and shameless in its heartstring-tugging, with the occasional gesture toward something more meaningful or profound that occasionally pokes through the pablum.
Watched with my husband and we both laughed at Siegfried's classic grumpiness. Also you really feel for people in Mrs. Hall's situation...the episode really drives home how divorce was looked at back then.
Review by Andrew BloomVIP 9BlockedParentSpoilers2024-01-22T04:57:18Z
[6.0/10] I can't tell if this is an unavailing episode of All Creatures Great and Small, or if it’s just been six months since I last saw the show so I’m no longer inured to its middlebrow sappiness. Suffice it to say, there’s some merit to this episode, but as it embarks on its fourth season, the series returns with the same kind of blunt predictable storytelling and shallow feelgoodery that pervaded the show’s weaker outings.
But other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?
This makes me sound more down on the episode than I am. It’s fine. It does what you expect of All Creatures if you’ve been watching the show for three seasons. There’s (very) gentle humor and animals who need helping and low-stakes personal drama and Hallmark Channel-esque sob stories with townsfolk that always end on an uplifting note. I can knock the series for quality, but I can't knock it for giving the people what they want.
My favorite of the stories we get here is Mrs. Hall wanting to file for divorce. What does it mean to be a religious woman and victim of domestic abuse striving to make a clean break in 1930s rural England? That's a fascinating thing to explore. So naturally, it gets about six minutes of total screen time. But still, Mrs. Hall struggling with the fact that it’s not just a ministerial act to get a legal decree of divorce, but one that requires her to dredge up the painful history of her marriage, share events she considers private with a third party, and question whether she’s violating a promise she made before God. That's all meaty stuff, and as usual, Anna Madeley plays it all with a suitably restrained but layered approach.
As with most endings on All Creatures, the resolution to the subplot is a bit tidy. But it’s still nice to see Siegfried support her in as tactful and considerate a manner as he can muster, even offering her the privacy of his study in which to write her statement without disturbance. The show seems pretty plainly pointing toward the two as an item in the future, with poor Gerald as the Baxter, so if that's the direction, it’s nice to see Mr. Farnon being sensitive and considerate to Mrs. Hall.
I’m more lukewarm on Siegfried’s other stories. There’s something comparatively understated about him being irritable and angsty given his feelings about Tristan’s absence. Nobody ever vocalizes that it’s the reason for his perturbed state of being, which counts as restraint for this show. But all of the conversation about the ill sheep blaming its spawn for the pain, and the sheep’s owner being lonely from the absence of his family members, and Mrs. Hall telling him that sometimes it helps to write it all down makes it fairly obvious. Farnon’s part of the episode is full of “Hooray for Metaphors” moments, even if they don’t make it explicit, which makes things pretty tiresome. Still, it’s nice that they’re still acknowledging Tristan’s absence and the gap it leaves in the lives of the residents of Skeldale house.
The comedy here is sitcom-y and tepid. Siegfried looking frantically for where his erstwhile employees hid his tobacco during Lent is broad and schticky. Helen ordering too many supplies and hiding them around the house is a pale rendition of an I Love Lucy story. The two of them admitting that neither of them is perfect is a nice enough detente, but at best, the comic subplots here belong in “Sensible Chuckle Magazine”.
James’ story isn’t much better. THere’s a terribly predictable trajectory to him being thwomped by a young lad with a sick dog, thinking the boy is a bad apple only to find out he has a heart of gold, and then eventually finding him a place where he can be fulfilled and earn his keep. It’s the kind of saccharine story this show’s done a lot already, made all the cheaper for invoking a poor orphan with a sick pet to do it. I will say there’s some cleverness and clockwork in resolving James’ rough-edged orphan and Siegfried’s lonely client problems by putting them together. And hey, James getting suckerpunched by a ten-year-old is weirdly satisfying. Let’s see if he still thinks he should go to war after getting taken down by someone still in primary school.
Otherwise, this episode is what it is. There’s some cute moments between James and Helen, some gorgeous scenic shots of Yorkshire, and some faux-emotional highpoints where the score is overwhelming. But for the most part, All Creatures Great and Small remains what it’s been: superb in its craft, facile in its storytelling, and shameless in its heartstring-tugging, with the occasional gesture toward something more meaningful or profound that occasionally pokes through the pablum.