Love in the classroom
TV’s achingly charming new drama
He was a popular member of the school’s Gaelic football team. She was the quickwitted, smart and cynical loner, unafraid to battle the teachers. ‘‘I wasn’t aware my eyeline fell under the jurisdiction school rules,’’ she retorts after one dares to admonish for daydreaming during third period.
Outside the classroom and school campus, Marianne (Daisy Edgar-Jones) and Connell (Paul Mescal) regularly see each other at her home – but only when he comes to collect his mother after she’s completed her cleaning duties.
Conversation is usually limited to perfunctory greetings and a brief comparison of current grades. ‘‘You could try being a bit nicer to her,’’ his Mum chides after witnessing one such exchange.
But right from the furtive glance across a crowded corridor that opens Normal People (now screening on TVNZ OnDemand), it’s clear that Connell is fascinated and infatuated with Marianne. ‘‘You’re probably the one person that talks to me,’’ she confides, as she too finds herself drawn to Connell.
To her delight, even in the aftermath of Cup final heroics, it’s Marianne he chooses to sit beside on the bus home – even if they don’t pass a word between them. However, just as the intimacy between the pair starts to bubble – ‘‘do your friends know you read so much?’’ she teases after he reveals some of the classics he’s tackled – Connell seemingly tries to cool things off.
‘‘It would be awkward in school if something happened with us,’’ he reasons. ‘‘No-one would have to know,’’ is her instant reply.
Adapted by Sally Rooney from her own much loved and critically acclaimed 2018 novel, Normal People magnificently and tenderly captures the complexity of teenage friendship and relationships. Cut into 12 bite-size, half-hour instalments (suitable for either a quick hit, or a luxurious binge), this is a beautifully understated and achingly romantic tale. To me, it’s what the 2011 adaptation of David Nicholls’ similar themed One Day should have been like, instead of an inert, emotionless mess starring a bored-looking Anne Hathaway.
Director Lenny Abrahamson (Room) does a magnificent job of bringing to life the awkwardness and crackling sexual tension of young love through the brilliant deployment of hand-held camerawork, natural lighting and intimate close-ups. You can really feel the connection between them, which makes any conflict all the more difficult to bear.
Thanks to Abrahamson’s skill, we feel as invested in their relationship, sometimes more so, than they do. Of course, credit must also go to actors Edgar-Jones (Cold Feet, Gentleman Jack) and newcomer Mescal. Their chemistry and vulnerability truly helps transform this tale into a compelling story.
From the other side of the Atlantic ‘‘pond’’ comes a far more bold and brassy period drama.
American Horror Story and Pose creator Ryan Murphy’s latest series Hollywood (now screening on Netflix) follows a group of aspiring actors and film-makers in post-World War II Hollywood as they try to make it in Tinseltown, no matter the price.
Our initial guide is Jack Castello (David Corenswet), a former army man who, as his dreams of stardom fade (‘‘a pretty face, but no experience’’ is one withering assessment of his acting potential) and economic realities hit home, somewhat reluctantly agrees to work at the Golden Tip Gas Station, where the wealthy clients expect ‘‘personal service’’. As owner Ernie (Dylan McDermott) spins it in his sales pitch to Jack, ‘‘this is the vision of a new America – the one you fought for’’.
Lavishly produced and costumed, Hollywood packs a lot into each episode and viewers expecting any kind of subtlety will be sorely disappointed.
However, those used to Murphy’s style will appreciate the blending of fact and fiction, the glittering ensemble cast (that includes Samara Weaving, Jim Parsons, Rob Reiner and Queen Latifah) and the depiction of the sometimes sordid sensorial overload of the second-half of the Golden Age of Hollywood.