"Some obligations can't be passed on": Watching A Place To Call Home

[Mel O'Drama]

Episode Eight... continued​

As predicted, Elizabeth did comment on the fuss being made and tried - unsuccessfully - to remain at home. It’s interesting to see her in such a weakened state, but the fire has returned as she’s clashed with Jack over whether she should be moved to the city hospital to keep her blood pressure down - due to her fractious relationships with Jack and Sarah.

Elizabeth’s sedated mumblings about hurting… someone apparently close to Jack, who overhears, has created a subtle intrigue.

I would never hurt you. Never. Not like your… So like him.

And while he hasn’t tackled that one, there’s been more reference to their history:

I remember lying in the gutter - literally. And you reaching your hand down and saying “trust me”. I did, and you saved me. Let me return the favour.

It helps greatly that we’ve seen the flip side of this relationship. We may not have seen Jack in the gutter, and at this moment can only guess at why he was there based on empirical evidence. But we did see Elizabeth “save” Jack from himself after the death of Bill Gregory. This adds a meaning to this moment that we can feel.

Meanwhile, Olivia is refusing to visit Elizabeth, and has made her reasons for this very clear to James:

I refuse to stand there pretending I care… I’m pregnant. Say that I don’t need the stress of seeing my darling grandmother-in-law suffer.

What has got into you?

I’m simply prepared to admit what you must’ve thought. We’d all be better off if she died.

There’s an interesting moment where she takes a family photo and covers Elizabeth with her hand, happily trying to picture the family without Elizabeth. This echoes her previously working out the truth about James by covering up herself in a wedding photo to reveal that James and William (either side of her) are actually gazing lovingly at one another rather than her. Facts through photos have emerged as a theme for Olivia, and it’s fascinating.

The projection involved in this particular case - looking ahead to her improved status if the worst should happen to the ailing head of the house - also reminds me of that scene in which tipsy Sue Ellen played lady of the manor by sashaying down the Southfork stairs and talking down to Pam. Olivia takes the scenario further by telling James about her vision:

With her, it’s a family dominated by an iron will. Without her. Just look. Your father: so full of warmth. Anna: able to marry for love, and not as some trade negotiation. You and I…

Go on. What would we be if she died?

It’s a question that no doubt resonates more with the person asking it than it does the person being asked. Harry Polson’s arrival has created more inner conflict for James. He represents temptation. And, to James, enormous risk that his secret has come home to roost. Despite Harry showing no apparent wish to harm James:

I’m not here to cause trouble.

Unlike William, Harry isn't a male version of his wife. He's a rugged, relaxed, outdoorsy blokey-bloke that puts me in mind of Rob Keegan. And he seems genuinely interested in James.

Harry represents something James has lost. Freedom. He also symbolises something James may never have had: he seems comfortable in his skin. There’s no sense of regret or guilt over their sexual history. It’s something Harry looks on with fondness:

I’ve never told anyone about us. Never will… I won’t lie. Sometimes I wondered what it’d be like to come back.

Are you married, Harry?

No.

Step away from the car.

James’s “stay the hell away from me” attitude in their already frequent meetings are very fear based. He's afraid of his own feelings. And Harry has responded to James's uptightness with a relaxed vibe that suggests he knows exactly what it's all about.

There's a scene towards the end of the episode where James delivers yet another defensive "I'm married and we're having a baby" type spiel to Harry. Harry is atop a ladder, picking fruit from a tree and the entire conversation is held with Harry looking back over his shoulder from the ladder, while subtly presenting to James his not unattractive, eye-level posterior, which is set off by the tightest of trousers. James immediately goes home and has sex with Olivia. Not on Elizabeth’s orders this time, but to prove something. He seems to succeed in proving something to Olivia. And perhaps something else entirely to himself

continued...​

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Episode Eight... continued​

The Bligh family photo was a reminder to me of how small the family unit really is: Elizabeth; George; Anna; James and Olivia. It hadn’t really occurred to me up until this moment. Perhaps because I’ve been getting to know everyone. It’s of a similar size to - and even a little bigger than - the initial Carrington or Hamilton families in their respective soaps, but somehow the Bligh family has felt larger. And indeed, it feels as though it should be larger, with this series having just one central family rather than two or three (albeit Place has a lot more lone wolf characters among its main cast).

But this series is extremely clever when it comes to introducing characters who seem tertiary and allowing them to emerge in their own good time as more significant than first appeared. There’s the Swansons. And the Polsons who seemed to explode onto the scene in the space of three episodes after several weeks of one of them being in the background as a maid.

Then there are the Polettis. Gino, of course, has been a fairly key (if secondary) character since the first episode, but now the entire family is starting to show more presence. And - as with the Polsons - the way they’re cleverly interconnected to the Blighs in more ways than one.

When we first met Gino’s family back in the third episode, they were a very welcome, if unassuming presence. A gregarious, loving, colourful family with an attractive (some might say stereotypical) sense of joy. Their al fresco bonding with Anna and Olivia over table wine and music was a lovely shot of happiness into the series. Back then I noted that they came with their own backstory - that Amo had been a POW and Gino’s brother had gone to fight for Mussolini. But at that point we saw them very much through the eyes of Anna and especially Olivia, who was meeting them for the first time. Their presence was welcome, and fleshed out Gino a little. But their function seemed to be to add some background colour by dancing to El Negro Zumbón. Something they did very well. Truth to tell, I was a little surprised - pleasantly so - when the family were given a couple of return visits.

But it’s with the eighth instalment that the Polettis - and in particular Carla, whom I don’t remember even being named in her first appearance - have emerged as characters that function in their own right.

Before Elizabeth had her heart attack, she was speaking to a maid. That same maid found Anna’s shiny new diaphragm while tidying her bedroom drawers and seemed very concerned about it, asking James questions about Anna’s love life, and eventually dropping a big hint to Anna herself that she’d seen it. It was only later in the episode that I realised that Carla the maid was actually Gino’s mother. So, like the Polsons, there’s a delicate dance going on of correct upstairs/downstairs etiquette versus personal relationships. It fleshes out the series in the best way possible, and means that even the smallest role in this series is worth keeping an eye on. Because you never know what role that walk-on character is actually going to serve.

Carla finding out has taken the Anna and Gino story to a new level. Carla has tackled Gino herself and her determination to keep her discovery from Amo becomes more resonant when remembering Amo was interned during the war and has “lost one son”. So he carries more scars than his smiling exterior may suggest. This in turn puts pressure on Carla herself, who feels forced to manage the situation through the prism she understands best:

You are Catholic. The family won’t allow it. The Church won’t allow it. Someone like her is not for you.

She thinks she is. It’s my mother who thinks I’m worthless.

We’ve been made aware of the Catholicism in the family which informs responses at times - particularly regarding guilt around instinctive behaviour. Carla refers to the diaphragm not by name but only as “a vile thing the Holy Father forbids”.

But beneath it all is also respect for the Blighs. She points out to Gino how much they owe the family. This conflict is amplified by Anna wanting to discuss it with her, where it becomes clear that she fears her son and Anna being hurt:

You must marry a rich man and live in a grand house. Gino would never be enough for you. Would you change your whole life for him. Would you change your home? Your religion?

I would do anything to be with him. I’ve always loved Gino. Always. Even when we were little and playing together. What else is there to understand?

It would be an honour for any mother to have such a daughter-in-law - even knowing of your sins. But it will never happen. Anna, it cannot.

Anna removes the necklace with her engagement ring and hands it to Carla

I’m putting Gino’s and my happiness in your hands. And you can give this back when you an give us your blessing. And I know you will. One day.

Conversations between the two women are wonderful because of the layers. Technically, Anna is Carla’s employer. But Carla is Gino’s mother. And a committed Catholic.

There’s a warm mutual respect between the two. They like each other. And this comes across in Anna’s gesture. Dina Panozzo proves to be a terrific addition to the cast and gives a very strong performance.

In character, Anna has now become determined to win her father over. If he approves, Carla might agree. And it’s all very clear in her mind that he has to approve, or be a hypocrite:

If he’s in love with Sarah, how can he say no to us? Well, he’s rich. She’s poor. He’s Christian. She’s Jewish. It’s all about class and religion. Just like us… If he fights for her, he’ll be fighting for us without knowing it.

There’s an implicit agreement between not to use the diaphragm - and so not to have sexual contact with Gino. But could it be too late? They’ve already had sex a number of times - including right before the discussion, in the barn. While Anna’s diaphragm was presumably still in her drawer, unused.

 

[Willie Oleson]

If I have to be perfectly honest, there are quite a few characters and situations in Place that look very familiar to me, but then again I've read most (if not all) Barbara Taylor Bradford novels.

Spoiler: quasi-spoiler, not actually based on watching the series

Elizabeth saved Jack, but I bet she had inadvertently (via via via) caused him to be in that gutter in the first place.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

If I have to be perfectly honest, there are quite a few characters and situations in Place that look very familiar to me, but then again I've read most (if not all) Barbara Taylor Bradford novels.

Interesting. Now I'm starting to wonder if I should consider reading some BTB. And that's a first for me.

Elizabeth saved Jack, but I bet she had inadvertently (via via via) caused him to be in that gutter in the first place.

Oh yes. I'm sure you're right. But it's the vias that will really sell it. I need to know why she needed to rescue him.

 

[Willie Oleson]

I need to know why she needed to rescue him

Maybe she also rescued herself that day.

I sense a lot of tragedy that still needs to unfold (gosh, how very clairvoyant of me)

 

[Mel O'Drama]

I sense a lot of tragedy that still needs to unfold

I hope so. Or seasons 2-6 are going to be a bit of a trial.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Season One
Episodes Nine and Ten


Well - that didn’t take long. Anna has had morning sickness and excused herself to go off to the city. Ostensibly she’s gone to see Andrew Swanson, but she’s really gone to see cool Aunt Carolyn to help arrange a pregnancy test.

Already there are rich layers to this character. In her first episode, after learning about Gino, Carolyn was playful and worldly, but once Anna had left the room, she looked deeply reflective. It was a moment where the image spoke a thousand words. Discussion around Anna’s pregnancy has enriched Carolyn’s character further. She’s said she’ll support Anna - which she’s doing - but she won’t help with an abortion. As with the best of Bevan Lee’s writing, it’s what’s not said that’s important here. She tells Anna what her reasons aren’t, which leaves Anna - and us - to guess at what her reason is. And in turn to feel compassion with a touch of intrigue:

It’s not the morals. Or the ethics. God forbid, it’s not even the danger.

What then? Tell me.

If you are pregnant, perhaps. It’s very complicated.

Making things more difficult for Anna, Andrew’s father has a turn while having sex with his “double bay mistress” (“The old hypocrite. Serves him right. Mother too for turning too blind an eye”, is Andew’s perspective ). This means Andrew would be going to Inverness in his father’s place, which puts Anna’s alibi at risk. So Anna is forced to have lunch with Andrew to persuade him to say that she was with him:

Let me get this right. You lied at home to get away. Now you’re lying to me about why you lied to them and I’m s’posed to go along with it… All right. I will keep your secret. You’re somehow more attractive being so devious. I will weave the most marvellous tales of us having fabulous times together. And one day I will call in the debt. You owe me.

I do like Andrew and his cheek. And I’m looking forward to him calling in Anna’s debt, which I’m confident will be in the worst possible taste.

In the meantime, he’s done what Anna asked and has been bragging about their (non-existent) shared happy times. Within earshot of Gino. And the pregnancy test - quelle surprise - is positive. So the teen angst aspect of the series has been cranked up a notch or two. Anna’s current reading material, by the way, is Forever Amber. She likes her banned publications.

The Swansons were attending Inverness for the Remembrance Day Japanese trade delegation, held at Ash Park. This has understandably been a source of controversy for many Inverness locals. Not least Jack. To say he doesn’t welcome George’s initial approach is something of an understatement:

They killed your wife. And you’re gonna shake their hands?! …Shove it up your arse, George… If you wanna lick their boots for a few bales of wool, you do it on your own.

He gets out the whisky and tumblers provided by Elizabeth, but is stopped from taking the drink by Elizabeth herself, who confiscates the bottle at his behest. Now this is a twisted situation. All signs now suggest Jack is an alcoholic whom Elizabeth had helped. So why would she stop him from drinking at Bill Gregory’s place only to show up at Jack’s office with a full bottle and tumblers. It was with the proviso that he should call her to share the bottle with him if he wanted to do his drinking ritual. So there was apparently some attempt at reverse psychology. But still, it’s pretty twisted.

Anyway, Jack reflects on the idea and eventually agrees to attend the trade delegation, on the condition that Sarah accompanies him, which she does.

The main continuing opposition to the delegation is from Bert, whose surname I’ve now realised is “Ford” and not “Banks”. I’ll have to double check, but I could swear he was first mentioned as Albert Banks. George called him “Ford” during his confrontation in the bar, but I thought it was an error. Anyway, Bert Ford-not-Banks’s reason for stirring up trouble isn’t due to his political views, but his personal ones. He’s still sore at Sarah and George for warning him to stop bashing Eve. Jack, too, has little time for Bert and barred him to an outside hospital visit for using bad language inside the building. So it’s Jack and Sarah, arriving by car who are greeted by Bert’s mob. And Jack isn’t shy about facing up to them:

Look at ya… All lining up to help [Bert] do his dirty work. ‘Cause this isn’t about the Japs. It’s about him and his grudges. Now if there’s anyone here with more reason to hate today, step forward… I don’t see one man here who served. So who has the right to tell me I can’t go in there?

You’re not serious.

Shut your filthy, wife-beating mouth, Ford.

Jack is nervous. The delegates will be the first Japanese people he’s seen since his internment, where he was treated brutally. Sarah had asked Jack his favourite song, and Jack remembered his mother singing Danny Boy (“except she sang Jackie Boy”), which Sarah said to hum when he saw the delegates to help his nerves. And while we don’t see him humming, Michael Yezerski’s incorporates snippets of Danny Boy as a motif in his score at key sections, which adds to the power.

There’s an electric moment where Jack loses it when he sees the delegates smiling and laughing with George, and starts walking towards them as the music builds and there are subjective flashbacks of Jack being tortured as a POW. At one point he says something, or makes a gutteral sound. And Sarah is standing in front of him, walking backwards and trying to calm him down. Jack reaches George and one of the delegates and, after the longest time, extends his hand to the delegate, who shakes his hand. Then he turns and leaves.

After this we next see him outside his parked car, screaming and thumping the bonnet, bloodying his hand in the process. And then he takes that drink.

Sarah finds him, and sits with him until he sobers up. But not before drunkenly confessing his love for her. Information she chooses to keep to herself when he can’t remember what he’s said.

continued...​

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Episodes Nine and Ten... continued​

Supporting Jack has meant Sarah has missed a liaison with George. With Elizabeth ensconced in hospital, he and Sarah have been meeting at the cottage, where their relationship has become physical.

The first time they had sex, it happened at the beginning of the episode. Being cynical about soapy tricks, I assumed it was going to be a dream or daydream sequence. But nope. To quote Carolyn’s observation about Anna and Gino, they’re at it like knives.

Even tucked away in hospital, word has reached Elizabeth that George and Sarah have been spending more time together, which has spurred her to call in reinforcements from overseas. There’s a little build up to this, and includes a lovely, funny scene preceding the new arrival where Sarah is working on a hospital ward, looks through partition doors and sees Elizabeth… smiling sweetly at her.

The ace up Elizabeth’s sleeve is an absolute winner: her former daughter-in-law, Regina Standish. Who just happens to bear an uncanny resemblance to her sister, Elena. “Poor Charles. So sudden”, the recent widow sighs during her introductory scene walking along the hospital corridor (shown only from the back until the big reveal).

Elizabeth wastes no time in asking Regina to help:

If your sister was a rose, this one is a bramble taking root. A nurse here. Sarah Adams… Her background is unclear. And her attitude’s disruptive. A Jew. It would be such a weight off my mind if you were to stay at Ash Park until I’ve recovered.

I’m terribly like Elaine. No-one likes a reminder of their dead wife hovering around.

Regina, it’s your similarity to Elaine that may well save him. A reminder of the gold he lost may, I hope, make him see the dross he’s contemplating… Do whatever you can to break this woman’s hold.

Oh. Elaine, is it? Not Elena. Nor Ella. It sounds different every time I hear it.

And Regina’s nervous reticence suggests she is thoughtful and has the family’s best interests at heart. Jack sees this and tries to gently warn Regina about deceptive women:

She has a way of roping people into her schemes.

I am not easily lassoed. I was an Ambassador’s wife, doctor. Berlin, 1938. A dreadful little man with a laughable moustache tried to win me over at dinner. If I can resist Herr Hitler’s wiles I am quite capable of handling a sweetheart like Elizabeth.

Aunt Reggie is close to the family, and makes fast friends with Olivia, despite a little hiccup:

Don’t shoot the messenger, but she did ask me to find a private moment to say she’d like to see you… She’s not an easy woman. I understand.

This prompts Olivia to visit Elizabeth in order to speak the truth:

I couldn’t come before now. I was wishing you dead. I don’t like what you’ve made me.

If that’s where you apportion the blame. As I said to James, if seeing me as the villain helps you to love him, then hate me.

The baby moved yesterday. It helped me do this.

My dear, I can’t think of a more wonderful reason.

I won’t come again. I just had to say that time apart will be good for all of us.

Then that’s what you must have… Go home and love James. Love your husband. You and I can wait.

There’s a great, very authentic-feeling moment as Olivia walks off where Elizabeth does one of her trademark trademark pursed lip twitches and looks thoughtful as she tries to process or shake off the conversation. It's hard to say if she's pleased, but she is pleased with what Regina has achieved in getting Olivia to visit and in persuading Anna to visit Andrew (which both believe to be the case). And she expresses her hope that she’ll have the same luck with George and Sarah.

But it’s at the end of her first busy episode, when Sarah smilingly introduces herself at the hospital that we meet Regina properly.

Ah yes. I’ve heard about you. The Jew.

Her smile drops. She stares coldly into Sarah’s eyes for a few moments. And then off she glides.

Now, there has been plenty of ugly dialogue in Place already. On the surface, Regina’s comment, while certainly offensive, is no more offensive than many other comments around faith and race. But Jenni Baird’s delivery makes this a moment that gave me a physical effect (stomach turning. Blood running cold. Arm hairs moving) because of how unexpectedly calculated it was. There was no passion at all. It wasn’t something said in the heat of the moment. And it was said with a great deal of thought and intent. Delivered to make the most impact. It’s so far from the warm, thoughtful woman we’d seen up to that point, it’s shocking. And I love that my expectations have been played with once again.

continued...​

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Episodes Nine and Ten... continued​

Regina’s deviousness can be seen in the way she wastes no time in getting to George first, undermining anything Sarah might potentially tell him about their conversation:

Sarah Adams. Who is she? …Might she be holding a torch for you? Everyone at the hospital has been so pleasant. But she was rather brusque. I know the evil eye when I see it. And I’m not prone to paranoia.

After hearing Sarah’s side, and quietly suggesting she might have misinterpreted the situation, George approaches Regina, who convinces him there’s been a misunderstanding and she’ll apologise for any “imagined slight” Sarah may have felt.

Regina’s deep-seated anti-Semitism is also given a background:

Her husband was part of the British protectorate in ’46. And they were in the Hotel David when it was bombed.

In Jerusalem?

A number of her friends were killed.

Incidentally, the fact that Elizabeth knows about this shows that she was pretty cold herself to make a point of mentioning Sarah’s faith because she knew it would stir Regina up.

At the trade delegation, Regina keeps her distance from Sarah. Prudence Swanson proves to be no shrinking violet herself when it comes to casual anti-Semitism when she enquires about the woman with whom George is speaking:

The local nurse. A Jew.

Dear me.

She converted.

Oh, to be born one is unfortunate. But to become one? My dear. Positively perverse.

The stiff upper lipped bitchery, the full garden party dress and the string quartet playing combine to make the exchange positively Wildean.

In the last act, there’s a scene where Sarah is alone, washing her hands in the WC. A red flag to soap viewers. And while the inevitable bathroom confrontation doesn’t happen, sure enough she meets Regina on the first floor landing.

Sister.

Ah. The Gentile

You ran crying to George, I hear. A wise friend once said “they should call it The Whining Wall, the amount they whine.”

That answers one question. You’ve done a good job at keeping that side of yourself from George.

I always choose my audience. [she leans in] Feel free to scurry to him again. I’ll make sure you end up seeming paranoid.

That smile takes me right back to Germany.

And yours me to Jerusalem.

Israel’s still there. Nazi Germany isn’t.

Now, the setting is perfect for this set-to. The stairs add a touch of drama, and the light through the stained glass window is used with a positively inspired theatrical touch. Regina has a blue light cast on her, making her already piercing eyes look more threatening. But… when she leans closer to Sarah in a more threatening posture, the light from the stained glass window bathes her in a purely red glow which makes Regina look positively satanic.

It’s perfection. Cinematic, atmospheric. Almost Disneyesque. It’s the closest this series has got to camp. But it’s good camp. The references to real-life events could be tacky, but with the groundwork done to create character, a moment like this is completely believable. Whether it’s a hint of the new tone with Regina’s presence (à la Dynasty with Alexis) is still to be seen. I really hope there’s not too much of this stuff, but the balance in these two first Regina episodes has been great. I have no idea of the structures and characters of this series, and already she feels important. I’m looking forward to booing and hissing and feeling frustrated by Regina’s tricks.

A couple of other people have or are beginning to get Regina’s number, by the way:

She is a bitch in sheep’s clothing.

Yeah, well father seems to like her.

Yes. He’s blinded by her similarity to your mother.

and

I don’t want you to be cross, but there’s something about her I don’t like. Whenever she talks to me I feel as if I’m the mouse and she’s the cat. It’s… as if she’s playing being herself.

Years as a diplomat’s wife. Being a chameleon in her surroundings. That’s all it is.

James may not see through Regina, but he’s relaxed his position on Harry. Knowing that Harry is working on building a shed, he collected some unused timber from the grounds and took them to Harry, offering to help construct it. Yep - in a not-so-subtle act of symbolism, James got wood for Harry.

Their partnership is solidified when they both help Amy fend off Albert who is intent on moving in while Eve is still in hospital. And the subject of Harry's freedom comes up:

It doesn’t worry you? Being as you are?

Never occurred to you, has it, that someone could accept his lot in being like this? Even if I hide it from the world, I’m being honest with myself.

 

[Willie Oleson]

I have cast Andrew "Terry" Clarke as Harry, Hugo Weaving as Jack and Cherie Lunghi as Regina.

 

[Willie Oleson]

While Sarah's religion provides a juicy "handicap" (she's the unsuitable partner), I'm not sure if could actually buy into it, I mean from Sarah's point of view.
Religion in soap is hard to sell as it is, and a religion related to a husband who's no longer there…
I feel it's more about what she isn't than what she is. In other words, a plot device.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

I have cast Andrew "Terry" Clarke as Harry, Hugo Weaving as Jack and Cherie Lunghi as Regina.

Oh - good choices. All would work really well, assuming it's their younger selves, rather than how they would look in 2013 or even 2020.

I did consider posting images of the actual characters so you can see how close you were, but since my hosting site is having server issues you get to keep your recasts. Though for the time being, the non-Cheri version of Regina can be seen in my avatar.

While Sarah's religion provides a juicy "handicap" (she's the unsuitable partner), I'm not sure if could actually buy into it, I mean from Sarah's point of view.
Religion in soap is hard to sell as it is, and a religion related to a husband who's no longer there…
I feel it's more about what she isn't than what she is. In other words, a plot device.

I'd agree that in many ways it's about who she isn't. It's to do with her lost identity. She previously said about losing all proof of her Jewish identity during the war, as well as her husband. So her faith's important to her in large part because it affirms that part of her life existed. I suppose when you lose something you learn its value. It's really well done.

There's a lot of exploration of faith in the series, which I'm always fascinated by. As well as Sarah's Judaism there's the Catholic/non-Catholic pairing which is proving controversial.

 

[Willie Oleson]

She previously said about losing all proof of her Jewish identity during the war, as well as her husband. So her faith's important to her in large part because it affirms that part of her life existed

That makes sense.

Though for the time being, the non-Cheri version of Regina can be seen in my avatar.

It's the same hair colour, so I don't have to recast her with a blondine (phew!)

 

[Mel O'Drama]

It's the same hair colour, so I don't have to recast her with a blondine (phew!)

Yes indeed. She's not a million miles from Cherie Lunghi at all. You could cast these things, Willie.

 

[Willie Oleson]

James may not see through Regina

They never do, do they? But the male lead's gullibility allows the minx to stick around and torment the beloved heroine - which is good for us.
I wonder what she's plotting for the next episodes.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Season One
Episodes Eleven to Thirteen


The Eleventh Episode was the soapiest episode yet. Conversations and situations that are almost cliches to the genre have been thrown increasingly into the mix. But this being such a well-crafted series they’ve satisfied, reminding me exactly why they are cliches. When they work, it’s damed exciting. And Place has joined a modestly sized band of series that have done just that.

In light of her pregnancy, Anna’s relationship with her Aunt Carolyn has been wonderful. And, piece by piece, Carolyn’s guilty secret has been revealed.

It was evident that the situation was invoking some kind of event in Carolyn’s own past, and I’d thought her reasons for not wanting to help Anna explore the option of a termination had to do with a similar experience herself. Perhaps a forced abortion, or a botched one. Something that made her fear for Anna’s emotional welfare outside of the obvious ethical stuff which she’d clearly said weren’t her reason.

Anna’s plan to go overseas with Carolyn long enough to have the baby and find it a home sounded headily exciting. I can’t think of this playing out in “real time” on a series before (the closest I remember getting to this are the flashbacks to “B” enlisting Martha Stewart’s help to cover for her secret pregnancy in Home and Away). Logistics have meant that soaps have frequently used this plot as the backstory for a character. Something from the series’ pre-history which comes home to roost once the show is underway.

And it’s here that we start to uncover Carolyn’s Big Secret:

You sat there and told me my story. That’s exactly what happened to me at your age. I fell pregnant. Mother sent me away to avoid a scandal and give birth overseas. You asked me to do for you what had been done for me.

Who’s the father?

I’m the only one who knows that. And it will go with me to the grave. Even he doesn’t know.

Naturally, that’s not all. Carolyn takes Anna to the bench in a park where she made her fateful decision:

Oh, I’ve thought so many times about this moment. If I don’t do it here - now - I suspect I never will. The child I had, my darling. The child that I gave away to be raised by others. It was you.

A vociferous rejection from the shocked Anna might have been the expected thing. Instead we get a very lovely bonding between the two. It’s entirely truthful. Who better than Anna, in that moment, would understand how Carolyn felt when she made her decision. And it prompts Anna to make her own: to keep the baby and marry Gino, whatever it takes.

There have been a few welcome unglossy touches to this storyline. From Anna’s violation while being fitted for her diaphragm to her visibly vomiting during her morning sickness. There’s another in these episodes that shocked me because it simply came from nowhere. Anna walked into the room and held up a hand that was bloody from touching her equally bloody nightdress. And there no longer is a baby.

Gino knew that Anna had wanted an abortion, but had made her promise she wouldn’t pursue it - his Catholic faith making the idea revulsive to him. Even before Anna gave voice to her fears, my mind was asking the same question: how could he possibly believe this convenient miscarriage wasn’t her doing.

Here’s where the series goes against expectations. Again. Gino simply believes her. His acceptance and the stillness that follows are almost unsettling. And their little moment at the waterhole with the leaf boat Gino made was very poignant.

The (partial) truth coming out to their families has been everything I could have hoped for, albeit it almost got lost in the mix with so much going on in the finale. I’m not sure how entertaining Anna living together with Gino’s family is going to be, but I’m up for giving it a shot. It’s certainly causing some welcome conflict:

Ash Park to you will never be closed. But if you do this, my heart will be.

Is that what you said to… To Aunt Carolyn? When you turned your back on her?

Very similar. If I could do it to her, I can certainly do it to you.

And to Gino:

I love Anna.

You think you do. You think you know her. You don’t. She will break your heart. I wish I could say you don’t deserve it.

Now Carolyn has returned to Inverness. And her first stop was to see Anna’s father: Jack! Again, this was something foreshadowed with Carolyn looking at a picture of him at the top of the episode. And I love this unconventional way of being given new information, if we’re observant enough to spot it.

continued...​

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Episodes Eleven to Thirteen... continued​

The series has pulled few punches in giving an honest account of what it means to be gay in a small rural town in 1950s Australia. Being open means certain stigma, potential blackmail and probable rejection: all three outcomes which have played out onscreen in these final episodes. Both James and Harry have had a particularly unpleasant time of it in these final few Season One episodes. Despite them being in vastly different places in terms of acceptance of their own sexuality, their brief parting kiss - as with Steven and Ted in the latter part of Dynasty’s first season - has resulted in explosive consequences for numerous characters.

Bert Ford witnessing the kiss played out perfectly. It’s almost expected that someone would see, and the writing acknowledge this by giving the audience the subtlest of signals. At some point during the discussion in the barn, the gentle creak of the door could be heard, even though the door barely moved. It could have been the wind, and neither James nor Harry registered it. But we, as the drama watching audience knew what it meant, even before the reveal. It was a nice way of saying to the audience that it was understood it was something of a cliche, but we’re all in it together so let’s have no cheating.

The repercussions for Harry were a violent beating from Bert, and being thrown out of the family home into which Bert has forced his way back. But it wasn’t Bert’s predictable response that resonated. It was Harry’s sister, Eve, acknowledging that Harry had to go:

Why didn’t you ever tell me? Well, it’s disgusting

It’s how I was born.

Please. Just go. You have to understand, I can’t have you around Colin.

It’s the archetypal misconception about LGBT people. In the culture of the time, when LGBT people were invisible and treated like witches, it’s easy to understand why Eve might have these concerns. This is where the period setting really pays off. Had comments like Eve’s been made by a person in a present day setting, they would represent the views of a firm minority, and she would have been the pariah - or at the very least been enlightened. But there’s no question of that here, nor should there be. This is an honest representation of 1950s attitudes, and I praise it being made visible.

At least Amy’s more supportive when Harry says his goodbyes:

What did you do that was so terrible?

Don’t hate me when they tell you.

I’m not blind. Or stupid.

You’re not disgusted?

Bert disgusts me. Hate disgusts me. Not you. It puzzles me, and saddens me… I’m just worried you’ll end up sad and lonely with no-one.

Reckon the world stitched up my kind on that one.

Likewise, George’s response to Bert’s approach is the fieriest we’ve seen him. When Bert risked the life of Eve and their baby, practically breaking her back with a beating, George - who had seen the consequences first hand - grabbed Bert’s collar and gave him a talking to. But when he informed George that James was “a queer”, Bert got a punch in the face.

The reasonably shallow depth of George’s denial at this point is interesting. Immediately after his conversation with Bert, George confronts Elizabeth because he knows that what Bert has said adds clarity to other pieces of the puzzle. It fits. Once again, this is a stronger, confident George.

The irony is that the truth only came out after James had chosen to leave town to avoid the temptation of his attraction to Harry, spoke to the turmoil he felt over the situation. There’s a new level of honesty in his relationship with Olivia. He may not have told her about Harry or the reasons behind his sudden agreement that leaving Ash Park was for the best. But his homosexuality is no longer a secret, and his addressing it by seeking psychiatric support is something his wife will support him in doing.

At a time when homosexuality was considered a deviance caused by a mental disorder, James getting help is both brave and inevitable. We hear about the treatments, and it’s agonising to watch from a 21st century vantage point, because of how damaging these treatments are widely known to be.

I want you to cure me.

It won’t be pleasant. I will need your total commitment.

Then, here’s George at his door. And - despite what I commented when he was so supportive after learning of his son’s suicide attempt - suddenly George is Martin Healy. The man with blind fury towards his son:

You were seen in the Walkers’ barn. Grandmother has confirmed what you are. And Bert Ford is blackmailing us. Well?! What have you got to say for yourself? James? Is this why you tried to kill yourself? Might be best if you had. You disgust me.

It's a condemnation that pushes the newly hopeful James over the edge and into an immediate and catatonic nervous breakdown.

Twice in the final episode, we watch James undergoing electroconvulsive therapy in as graphic a way as is possible in a series of this kind (the only other prime-time drama I can think of to show ECT onscreen is Melrose Place). And it’s ugly. More so because of how futile an exercise it will surely prove to be.

continued...​

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Episodes Eleven to Thirteen... continued​

Regina’s spent much time skulking round the passages at Ash Park, eavesdropping and poking her head through doors at random moments prompting Elizabeth to chastise her:

Must you sneak around like a character in a penny dreadful?

She’s also skulked round the hospital, long enough to lift Sarah’s personnel file. And with Sarah spending more time at Ash Park, Regina keeps appearing whenever Sarah’s briefly alone to drop in another bitchy comment. The anti-Semitism has been elevated with each of these meetings.

First:

George might take a Yid as his whore but he’s never going to marry one.

Which yielded the series' first proper bitch slap when Sarah reacted.

And then:

I will see you gone. Whatever it takes.

I’ve faced far worse than you. And here I am.

You know what Hitler got wrong? He ran out of steam before he’d finished you all off. Sorry. Gas.

This got her a well-deserved throttling from Sarah, who drove Regina from one end of the balcony to another. Literally single-handedly.

As strong as these one-to-ones are, I think they’re happening a bit too frequently, and hope Season Two takes a less is more approach with them. Truthfully, Regina’s getting on my wick now. I think that’s because she’s meant to get under my skin. But it’s probably because she’s so frustrating and I want someone other than Sarah to see the nastier side to her nature. But I also kind of like that they haven’t, because then the character will become declawed. It’s the fact that people trust her that makes her so dangerous an enemy. I’ve met people who operate similarly to Regina, and they truly are frightening.



From Episode One Elizabeth was one to watch. The dominant matriarch who rules with a rod of iron and will go to any lengths to protect the family name is almost a cliche in itself. Noni Hazlehurst and the writers have worked hard to ensure the character is defined not by her formidable strength, but by what drives the need to be strong. Her inner conflict over her actions have been evident from the beginning. And they’ve allowed me to feel empathy for her in her most unlikeable moments (of which there have been many). With the arrival of Regina, Elizabeth’s dimensions have been yet more apparent. Now there’s someone who is calculating and bitchy (and, it has to be said, less three dimensional and not so well acted) it’s more evident that Elizabeth is none of these. Overly dominant and controlling, certainly. But I could never say she’s malicious since it’s so clear what motivates Elizabeth.

She has been going all-out to scupper Sarah’s relationship with George. This arc has Elizabeth at her most determined, forceful and creative. All being good things.

With every snippet about George and Sarah’s relationship reaching her, I can feel her determination growing. Particularly in light of Regina telling her about the couple’s trysts:

I saw them at the guest cottage. Him and the Jew. They’re rutting at Ash Park. How long before she’s living here.

The threats and responses to them were great:

If you even think of marrying this woman, Ash Park will go to James. I’ve changed my will… You can have Ash Park or you can have her. You cannot have both.

This is followed by a full minute of George stomping out of the house, getting in his car and driving to the hospital, with a thrumming underlying electronic soundtrack almost representing his pounding heart. Even though I had a good idea what was going to come from it (and turns out I was right for once), it was staged perfectly:

I love you with all my heart. Marry me.

Elizabeth receiving the news of her son’s engagement (oh - can her heart take much more?!) and then changing tack was quite thrilling. Inviting Sarah to dinner was a nice move. Like entering the lion’s den. And she holds back until they’re all relaxed during post-dinner drinks:

So, the manipulative matriarch and the scheming Jewess have managed a civilised dinner. And, dare I say it, even enjoyed each other’s company. I hope this demonstrates that we’re not natural enemies, Miss Adams.

And all the while she has Regina investigating Sarah’s past:

I don’t care what it costs. Find something that will rid us of her forever.

The cost is for Elizabeth to stand out of Regina’s way in her pursuit of George, a prospect that enthuses Elizabeth little more than him marrying Sarah.

And now the gauntlet has been thrown with an offer/dare/threat to Sarah to live under her roof for three months.

continued...​

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Episodes Eleven to Thirteen... continued​

Elizabeth’s fire is balanced by her softer, warmer side. And that’s still present.

A nice example is her comment to poor Amy Polsen, who was thrown out of Eve’s home when Bert returned and threw his weight around:

As awful as it is thinking of your sister and nephew living with that brute, I am very glad to have you back home.

One of Elizabeth’s most surprising reactions came when James told her he and Olivia were moving out. He - and I - expected fireworks, but got:

Good. Well, don’t looked so shocked. James, I’m your grandmother, not your gaoler… Well, go and pack. A decision like this, once taken, is best acted upon.

The relationship between Olivia and Elizabeth has proved one of this season’s most compelling. It’s not something I would have imagined myself saying in those early episodes, and I’m happy to have misjudged that one. It’s one of many ways this series has played with and confounded any expectations I may have. Olivia’s become far more than the unwilling beard, trapped in a relationship with a man she doesn’t know is gay. Her growing assertiveness has been fun. And the emergence of her recognition that she’s more like Elizabeth than is comfortable, leading to her fear that she is doomed to become Elizabeth has been an interesting journey. Here came the most heartwarming scene yet where the two women talked openly about that and came to terms while saying goodbyes:

You understand why we’re leaving?

Because you find living with me so intolerable. I would like my great grandchild to be born here.

Then we will return for that. Whether we stay…

I hope one day things are different. I see so much of myself in you.

(grimly) So do I.

Elizabeth laughs, and Olivia smiles.

Let me help you outside.

I thought I married James to someone too weak to be a threat. But I married him to someone with a strength that may yet save him.

There are beautiful smiles between them.

Though I’ve tried not to, I keep seeing Olivia as a combination of Dallas’s Sue Ellen (trapped in a marriage of status with a man who doesn’t want to make love to her; concerned with maintaining a dignified appearance) and Pam (the new bride who adores her husband and finds it difficult to live with the toxicity under his family’s roof). There’s probably a bit of Betty Anderson in there as well.

With George’s discovery of James’s sexuality, Olivia has played against expectations. While she overheard George talk about the kiss with Harry Polson, she hasn’t mentioned it once since. Her focus - her anger - was immediately on George’s ugly comments as she rallied to defend and support James.

I love James. If you can’t, get out. You just wished him dead. You should be ashamed. Not him

What if Dr Stewart can’t cure him? …I’ll still love him. Will you? If you can’t find the answer “yes” in your heart, don’t come back.

It’s equal parts beauty and dysfunction.

continued...​

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Episodes Eleven to Thirteen... continued​

Then comes that final, surprising shot, and with it the seeds are sown for Place’s first murder-mystery. I love how this was revealed. The final montage had played off, then we see Gino and Anna’s leaf boat, still gliding serenely across the water. Then… something…. comes bouncing over the weir next it. With little scale or perspective at first, I thought it was a dead whale. Then I realised it was a body. And then that close up of the face, those pale blue eyes staring at the camera.

There’s no shortage of potential murderers. Throughout the season, Bert has made many enemies: Even his first appearance was making racist comments to Gino before beating him. Then there are his run-ins with Sarah and Jack. He's beaten Amy and Harry. He's terrified Colin. Blackmailed George... and then come back for more.


But... whodunnit?! Well, I have a prime suspect and a shortlist of three further possibles. And all of them

Spoiler

are members of the same family.

That killer may take the best part of Season Two to be revealed. We might know in the next episode. Or we may never find out. The rules are still being written.


As for the method of death… there was another example of foreshadowing there. During Bert’s barn blackmail scene with George, there was a prominently-(albeit subtly)-placed item in the background. An item associated with an iconic prime-time death.


Another question: did the episode need the whodunnit? It was compelling enough already. So, no. It could be viewed as an unnecessary little trick to lure back viewers who simply expect Something Big to happen in a season finale. But, I can’t lie: I enjoyed it, and it felt enjoyably unexpectedly simple. I’m used to the series going against expectations and cliches. When it doesn’t, it’s thrilling.


Even by the standards of a season that’s felt planned down to the finest detail, there’s a confidence to these final three episodes that’s almost surprising. Most of the season has been trotting along with a little canter here and there. As the season closes, it’s evident that even when the pace bursts into a gallop the sense of direction remains as surefooted as ever.


Season One has been successful on every level. Taking the time to build character - allowing us to get to know each of them without giving too much away - has allowed me to invest.

All the threads have come together to give us season finale essentials: Shock revelations. Discoveries. Fallouts. Violence. Endings. Beginnings. And just when it seemed to be over, there was one more last-minute watercooler moment. Bevan Lee knows soap. He knows when to speak to the heart and when to go for the throat. And this is how both are done. It’s the cherry on the icing that is the season finale on the cake that is Season One of A Place To Call Home.