Thursday, September 11, 2025

A Very British Scandal

 A Very British Scandal is a 2018 BBC three-part series based on a non-fiction book about a celebrated political contretemps and criminal trial.  The program is very slightly opaque to American viewers because it involves aspects of the British class-system that are unclear on this side of the pond.  However, the series is so expertly and vigorously directed by Stephen Frears, so robustly and pungently acted by its principals, that the rather exotic subject matter is, at once, fascinating and gripping.  In fact, the show develops a sizeable emotional charge in the viewer -- the whole thing is so childish, unfair, and, ultimately, unreasonable that the audience feels a tangible sense of grief at the outcome.  

The series begins with a couple of MP's, apparently members of the House of Lords, dining on beef tartar and discussing their sexual conquests with Trump-style "grab 'em by the pussy" bonhomie.  The two upper crust gents claim to be bisexual and boast about experiences with both genders; the show's protagonist, a politician named Jeremy Thorpe is, however, homosexual.  Thorpe is played by Hugh Grant who is endlessly resourceful is dramatizing the MP's sense of entitlement, the impunity with which he exploits lower-caste young men, as well as the character's noblesse oblige and his virtues as a politician.  It seems that Thorpe has embarked on a torrid affair with a sweet young thing, Norman, played by Ben Whishaw.  Norman seems to be a bird with a broken wing, a melancholy victim whose demeanor suggests a damsel in distress, someone much in need of rescue.  Thorpe smitten with Norman's haplessness takes him home to his mother's house where he nonchalantly gets out a jar of vaseline, sets it on the nightstand and tells Norman to keep quiet (so as not to affright his mother) and "assume the position."  Unfortunately for Thorpe, he falls in love with Norman, sets him up in a London apartment, and nicknames him "Bunny" is letters that his sends to his boyfriend.  Of course, an unequal relationship of this kind can't persist and so Thorpe discards Bunny.  To his amazement and to the shock of the show's audience, the effeminate and timorous Bunny turns out to have a spine of steel -- he has hidden resources and, when spurned by Thorpe, aggressively seeks revenge, ultimately blackmailing him.  Thorpe brazenly tells his political cronies to have Bunny killed -- it's not clear whether he's serious or just joking but several shady demi-monde figures take the MP at his word and plot to murder Norman.  These co-conspirators are complete morons and comically inept -- they fail at their half-assed attempt to kill Norman.  The police are called upon to investigate and they easily discover evidence implicating Thorpe in the murder plot.  The bulk of the third and last episode is devoted to a spectacular trial in the Old Bailey.  Thorpe has hired a barrister named Carmen as his defense lawyer and there are plenty of fireworks in the best style of the old Rumpole shows -- witty asides, a curmudgeonly and prejudiced Judge, and scathing cross-examination.  Everyone betrays everyone else.  The MP to whom Thorpe confessed  his sexual exploits, Thorpe's best friend, is summoned to court where he give testimony against his former pal.  Norman gives an impressive speech about the travails of being homosexual in England during the era of the laws forbidding sodomy.  Further, people always underestimate the effete Norman -- he massacres Barrister Carmen during cross-examination.  Of course, a conviction of a former MP is unthinkable.  Thorpe is acquitted but his political career lies in ruins.  Throughout the film, Norman has said that he actually loved Thorpe and that his only motive in bringing the affair to light is to force the government to provide him with a National Health card expropriated by an offended former employer.  At the end of the show, we are provided glimpses of the real protagonists involved in these scandalous transactions -- Norman is the only one of the principal protagonists still alive -- and he still hasn't received a viable National Health card.  

The show is extremely witty, well-written, with lots of biting repartee in the manner of G. B. Shaw or Oscar Wilde.  The acting is beyond reproach and the complex plot moves along at a gallop.  Frears doesn't linger on scenes and cuts from place to place with aplomb, keeping the audience at his elbow with titles that tell us where the scene is playing out.  It's all exceedingly lucid, very funny, and, yet, ultimately tragic.  Curiously, in a film that is about male homosexuals, there are many excellent female parts.  Most notably, Thorpe has a plain matronly wife who absolutely refuses to be shocked or, even, judgmental about her husband's sexual exploits -- she notes that she "was raised with Benjamin Britten" and worked as an opera singer:  "I've seen things you can't even imagine," she tells her straitlaced and formal husband.  Her loyalty in the face of the awful scandal enveloping her husband is one of the most touching things in the program.  Norman also has a wife who supports him through thick and thin and the show wends its way to its courtroom climax.  Stephen Frears has always been an excellent director -- I recall his early films including My Beautiful Laundrette (1985) and Sammy and Rosie get laid (1987), both very fine pictures involving themes.  This program, available on Amazon, is exquisitely directed and memorably acted.  I recommend it highly.  

No comments:

Post a Comment