Wolf Hall: Three card trick

We haven’t had a good British costume drama in a long time. And no, I’m not talking about Downton Abbey or Lark Rise to Candleford, I’m talking about hardcore, War of the Roses-set political drama, with kings and queens and pervy cardinals and the like. Surely the bloodiest period of English history would continue to yield good stuff? But no, The White Queen was too dull, The Tudors too camp. Perhaps the last good one was The Hollow Crown trilogy, and I feel adapting Shakespeare is cheating.

This is what the BBC does best. A sparsely-told yet engaging drama

Thank God, then, for Wolf Hall, which feels like a real return to form for the BBC. Set during the reign of Henry VIII, but focused on the rise to power of a certain Thomas Cromwell, it’s elaborate without being lavish, it pays attention to period detail but doesn’t bog down the viewer with irrelevancies. The opening scene in particular is a magnificent exercise in tone-setting. A group of burly men ride up to a castle on horseback, accompanied by stormy cello music. They’re frowning, they’ve got bushy beards, they mean business. A fragile-looking cardinal (Jonathan Pryce) sits behind his desk, awaiting their arrival. They march up to him and state, succinctly, “You’re out!” Yet throughout the scene we’ve been continuously cutting to a shadowy figure, skulking behind the scenes, who shows up in the nick of time to inform the cardinal of his legal rights. It’s his lawyer, Thomas Cromwell (Mark Rylance), who speaks seldom but exerts a surprising amount of power. When the cardinal tells the men to leave, they do just that; it’s not Game of Thrones, they don’t behead him on the spot, there’s still some sense of civilization among these people – albeit barely.

This is what the BBC does best. A sparsely-told yet engaging drama, grounded in excellent writing and good production values. It’s hardly a surprise, really, considering the huge success of Hilary Mantel’s novels (the first managed that rare feat of winning the Booker prize and going on to be a commercial hit). But even so, this is an adaptation which gives its all, and chief to its success is the performances. When I last heard the name Mark Rylance it was when I saw a dreadful production of Much Ado About Nothing he directed (it starred James Earl Jones, who kept forgetting his lines).

There’s still some sense of civilization among these people – albeit barely.

Fortunately, his talents are put to much better use in front of the camera – his Thomas Cromwell is a master of understatement, who communicates much of his immeasurable sadness simply through his eyes. Of equal mention are much of the star-studded supporting cast. Jonathan Pryce is particularly affecting as the doomed Cardinal Wolsey, but there are some fantastic character actors hovering in the background, such as Charity Wakefield and Bernard Hill (what’s he been up to since Lord of the Rings?) And Damian Lewis only shows up in the final scene of the episode, but his cocksure Henry VIII threatens to steal the entire show.

The previous mention of Game of Thrones is certainly relevant – while it would be patronising to suggest that most students’ primary exposure to costume drama is through the HBO behemoth, it’s definitely made the genre “cool” again, although it should be remembered that Wolf Hall is a very different breed. There are no dragons here. Claire Foy doesn’t get her tits out. But it still has the same basic appeal of political intrigue and complex characters, that stretch throughout most good dramas of the type over the years, and if that interests you then Wolf Hall will be a treat.