Hmm. But so the script is bad, then?
Again, no. I’d say it has its weak points, but that the show is overall a strong adaptation of a difficult work. Threaded with both clever points and clunky symbolism, the narrative culminates in a deeply satisfying finale. I thought I had figured Grace out, but the mystery of her innocence is solved so fantastically that the answer is impossible to guess. By episode six’s conclusion, I was ready to forgive the series its few blunders and give Sarah Polley my first-born. Plus, I think period-apropos language always sounds odd to my modern ears.
Gotcha. You mentioned this show was sexy…?
As in any Atwood work, discussions and depictions of sexual assault are balanced by sparing eroticism. Most notably, Dr. Jordan is so hung up on Grace that when they make out later on in the season (don’t worry, it’s not what you think) it’s as compelling as any well-cultivated sex scene. But maybe that’s just because I have an enormous crush on Sarah Gadon. Basically every other sex scene is actually rape – the show is hardly overrun by rape/sexual assault scenes, but they do make up most of the show’s “sex.”
Sounds like a bummer.
Yeah, well, “Alias Grace” isn’t exactly vying for the NBC Thursday night comedy lineup. It is, first and foremost, a show about how one girl’s traumas culminate into an irreparable wound. Grace is 15 or 16 for most of the flashbacks, and she is repeatedly sexually assaulted or threatened with rape. Attendants at the insane asylum and guards at the prison carelessly “take liberties” with her. She sees the other women in her life fall prey to Victorian patriarchal paradoxes. Episode 2 highlights how difficult it was for women to procure abortions, a revolutionary concept in that it asserts that Victorian women got abortions at all. A red petticoat motif puts the “period” in period piece. There’s even a salient critique of society’s salacious interest in women’s suffering.
Ah. So this is where the F-word comes in.
This show honestly discusses women’s oppression. That shouldn’t be a radical feminist notion on TV or in society writ large, but it is. If that automatically gives you a negative opinion of this show, you might want to reconsider your overall stance on women.
All right, all right, stop making me question my own warped perception of an entire gender. Final impressions of this show?
All in all, “Alias Grace” is a show that, despite occasionally delving into corniness, merits as much praise and attention as its Hulu counterpart. It is perhaps better, as the dystopian patriarchy at odds with the protagonist of “Alias Grace” is borne of documented reality. Much like Patty Jenkins’ brilliant “Monster,” “Alias Grace” is more concerned with the inner lives of troubled women than it is with condemning them. This produces an altogether more intriguing, empathetic series than most other true crime fodder.
Even if you’re not a period piece person or a woman starving for nuanced female representation in television, this show will entertain you. From ghosts and murder to a comical glut of Victorian fainting, “Alias Grace” is compelling – and it uniquely manages to be so sans sensationalism. It’s a fantastic fall watch, and an asset to the Atwood legacy. You should definitely check it out when it hits Netflix.
Wait, before you go – did she do it?
I’m not telling. And the show kind of isn’t, either. [A-]
