Briefly, for newcomers: Catherine Cookson wrote some hysterically funny romance-y novels back in the day. For some reason, from about 1994 through 1998, the BBC went CRAZY for them and adapted about a hundred and eighty of them into miniseries. From time to time, I like to recap them, because they’re hilarious. You can find a primer here, or catch up with them here.

This week, I run you through The Gambling Man, starring Robson Green.

Here’s the thing, for those of you not familiar with British TV: of COURSE this is starring Robson Green. EVERYTHING stars Robson Green. British TV is purposely scheduled so that something with Robson Green in it is airing 24/7, in case aliens are monitoring broadcasts for someone who looks very serious and capable with whom they can make first contact. He got his own show about extreme fishing. If you investigate the history of England, there are cave paintings of Robson Green. Next year they’re putting him on the five-pound note. There’s no rhyme or reason to it; there’s only love and casting.

In case you think I’m joking, he’s playing a nineteen-year-old in this movie. Does that make any logical sense? No, it doesn’t. But it aired on British TV, so they were contractually obligated to cast Robson Green and by God, they did.

Vital Stats:

Era: I dunno; late 1870s/early 1880s?
Heroine: Robson Green.
Siblings that require looking-after: His brother, who is much nicer than Robson.
Illegitimate (Self or sibling): Nope.
Asshole Father?: Yup.
Romantic interest(s): Janey, his wife; Charlotte, his wife. Ruh-roh!
Bairnsketballs: Yup! Legitimate, shockingly.
Fistfights: Oh, for fucks’ sake, every two minutes there’s a fight.
Assaults: One iffy moment, but mostly fine.

“Robson Green in ROBSON: The Robson Green Story.”
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Wow, it’s been a long time since I visited a Catherine Cookson!

Ladies and gents, welcome to The Round Tower. It’s a sweet little romance about an upper-class girl, a middle-class boy, and the bairnsketball that comes between them!

The Round Tower probably Cookson’s most in-depth look at class differences in mid-century England and the turmoil caused by the idea of someone wanting to change their socio-economic strata through hard work. However, since most of those parts were filmed with the light from a single desk lamp, you can’t really tell.

It also has some of the skeeviest lines of any Cookson. Just…wow. This poor, poor young lady.

Vital Stats:

Era: 1950s. And 1960s. And maybe 1970s. Also maybe 2150. They’re in some time warp where they never age and yet five hundred years of the viewer’s lifetime pass before their eyes as they watch!
Heroine: Vanessa Ratcliffe.
Siblings that require looking-after: Nope!
Illegitimate (Self or sibling): She gets a bairnsketball thanks to her father’s skeevy friend. Does that count?
Asshole Father?: Oooh yeah.
Romantic interest(s): Angus Cotton, an employee of her dad’s who marries her to save her reputation.
Bairnsketballs: Check. Thanks, creepy neighbor!
Fistfights: I started counting, but gave up. I think this entire movie is one huge slapfight.
Assaults: On our characters, no. On our patience, yes.

“That was back when she was pure. Untouched.”

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[Previous episodes of The Catherine Cookson Experience here.]

This week, the CCE delivers my biggest letdown so far: Ciaran Hinds and Amanda Root, stars of the Persuasion (best Austen adaptation ever), team up again!

And man, they suck.

Welcome to The Man Who Cried, which is about a good-looking dude (Ciaran Hinds: well cast, casting person) who keeps tripping and falling into ladies, which disgusts him, just disgusts him. Why won’t these women stop getting with him, damn? He spends four hours being emo about how he just wants to be Left Alone with some other woman than the one he’s with at the moment. (Doesn’t matter which woman he’s with; he wants a new one.)

Vital Stats:

Era: 1930s, just before WWII
Heroine: Ciaran Hinds.
Siblings that require looking-after: His ten-year-old kiddo.
Illegitimate (Self or sibling): He begets one! Nice job, Ciaran.
Asshole Father?: Yeah, Ciaran.
Romantic interest(s): Every woman on the planet.
Bairnsketballs: Yup…CIARAN.
Fistfights: Largely nonviolent, except for ladies lunging at Ciaran and attempting to climb him like a tree.
Assaults: See above. SIT DOWN, LADIES.

“Even the CREDITS are crying, you guys.”
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So, after last week’s happy-go-lucky tale of nice girls with the memory capacity of a goldfish, we get into the gritty reality of what life was like for the ladies of the 1850s. (Answer: sucky.) Behold, The Girl!

Note: There are Cooksons worse than this, but few Cooksons duller. We will be skipping over large portions of repetitive, depressing malarkey. The point Cookson is trying to make: sucks to be a lady in the 1850s who had to make a good marriage Or Else. Point we take away from it: sucks double to be a lady whose only options are your rapey husband or that dude down the street who gets drunk and insults you. (Also, you fall in love with the second guy, which means in this scenario you probably have a concussion. I’m sorry to hear that.)

Era: 1850
Heroine: Hannah Boyle, the young illegitimate daughter of gentleman Mr. Thornton. OR IS SHE?
Siblings that require looking-after: She has three half-siblings who mostly suck, but in case she’s the one that requires looking after, because oh my lord, girl gets beat on.
Illegitimate (Self or sibling): Hannah. Sort of. Whatever.
Asshole Father?: Uh, not to Hannah, but uh, wow.
Romantic interest(s): Ned. Fred, who marries Hannah, is not a romantic interest. It gets gross. *shudders*
Bairnsketballs: Hannah gets one, though technically it’s legitimate since she’s married. Even though it’s not her husband’s. It’s all very Jerry Springer.
Fistfights: Yep. And caning. And bear traps! And they burn someone’s finger off.
Assaults: Innumerable; we see one, and one other that’s interrupted by one of the best conversations the world has ever known.

“You’re trouble!”
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Gillian Kearney was in The Tide of Life, and I liked her because:

1) She is a sweetie, and
2) She has leftover goodwill from being in The Forsyte Saga, where she was repeatedly whacked with the short end of the stick.

But she should just be lucky that she made very few bad decisions in that miniseries, which made her the only one.

When I saw The Forsyte Saga back in 2004, I wrote it up for Defenestration, because I was amazed that you could yell, “What a terrible plan!” at EVERY character you saw EVERY time ANYONE did something and it would ALWAYS be right. I saw it again last year, and seriously, it’s like a How Not To Do This of bad decision-making.

(Disclaimer: At the end of Forsyte Saga: To Let, I cried so hard I basically bruised a lung. So don’t think that just because I’m snarking means the miniseries isn’t good. It’s good; Damian Lewis and Amanda Root carry even the dull parts of the original series, and Damian Lewis pulls the entire second series basically by himself, and his performance is good. It’s really good. It’s so good it bruises your lungs when you sob like a nerd through the end credits.)