Martin Carr reviews the fourth episode of Carnival Row…
Political intrigue, class clashes and post mortem debates form the backbone of episode four. Murderous intent, slaughterhouse visuals in isolated orphanages and soft focus Pagan rituals pepper fifty minutes of dubious double dealing. Using Shakespearean tragedy with refined brutality against the backdrop of street level justice is the counterpoint this show needs. Monsters in the dark, monsters in public and those with more devious plans afoot share screen time with underestimated individuals of distinction.
Chief amongst the latter is Agreus Astrayon as portrayed by David Gyasi who sports a steely gaze, tactician’s deportment and measured eye for human weakness. His encounters with Imogen Spurnrose are short yet devastating in Gyasi’s ability to scene steal. This is real Jane Austen stuff where the barbs are thrown in silences and driven home through gesture. Good manners, ulterior motives and status sit at the centre of their initial meetings while decorum dictates appearances supersede any other concern.
Elsewhere public office and personal interests clash as kidnappings, torture and familial betrayal go hand in hand. People of power are encouraged to go against their better instincts, abuses are committed and The Burgue continues being undermined. Sub-plots involving informants, reanimation of dead tissue and some soft focus sexual congress are all thrown into a heady mix which touches on female emancipation. From every corner forces are rising in direct response to this male dominated arena.
Following on from the subtle reveal of Philo’s ancestry almost everything he does now should be questioned. His attachment to Vignette is best viewed through those actions rather than anything he might say, as their exchanges are the stuff of cliché. Carnival Row now has a living breathing beating heart of pitch black, which is threatening to come up through the ground and engulf everyone. Not even death it seems has dominion here as human self-interest, Fae magic and political machinations coalesce bringing things to a head.
You suspect that even with the best of intentions Philo will be dragged back down into the row before he has the opportunity to forge a normal life. Scarred, guilt ridden and prone to making bad decisions Rycroft is fast becoming the anti-hero middle man which keeps this carnival running.
Martin Carr
