Black Narcissus, episode 2 review: hammier than a Boxing Day lunch, but excellent fun nonetheless
We’re an hour into the adaptation of Black Narcissus (BBC One) and already everyone’s gone mad. Sister Ruth is roaming the convent like a character out of a Hammer Horror. Sister Clodagh is doing a spot of self-flagellating. Sister Philippa has strayed so far from the path of righteousness that she’s planting flowers in the vegetable patch.
Gemma Arterton has a hard act to follow in Deborah Kerr – Arterton is great in this, but we’ve had 70 years or more to appreciate the divine Miss Kerr’s performance. Alessandro Nivola has it easier as the dissolute Mr Dean. His is a much better incarnation than the one played by David Farrar in the 1947 film. Farrar faced the double indignity of wearing very short shorts and riding a pony the size of a sheep.
For dramatic purposes, Sister Clodagh turned up at Mr Dean’s house just in time to catch him putting his pants on following an afternoon of passion with a local. The Law of Poldark states that every leading man in a period adaptation must now appear shirtless in at least one shot. Mr Dean is also that rare thing: a man who gives good Christmas presents. He bought the nuns some snow boots, which was a relief because the weather in Mopu is an odd thing. Even in the depths of winter, the sisters are padding about in the same cotton habits they wear in summer, which makes it very obvious that the snow on the ground is fake.
Still, this drama isn’t going for verisimilitude, is it? It’s aiming for the same histrionic tone as the film. Of the few aspects that are new, some work well – however gorgeous Jean Simmons may have looked as Kanchi the village girl, blacking-up isn’t a very 2020 sort of thing so they have cast a British-Nepalese actress (Dipika Kunwar) – and others we could do without, such as the sun-dappled flashbacks to Sister Clodagh’s past relationship.
The episode ended on a weak cliffhanger – Mad Ruth taking off on horseback, even though she’s not terribly good on a horse. But if you know the story, you’ll know there’s a hell of a third act to come.
