RECIPE FOR A HIT PERIOD DRAMA
The seven vital ingredients we fall for every time
Gather your petticoats, make haste with the smoothing irons and rejoice with a tiny glass of sherry and a sweetmeat prepared by cook. For we are amidst a golden age of costume drama, an embarrassment of riches and britches on screens both small and large.
From Downton abbey to the throbbing new Poldark and the BBC’s recent adaptations of Lady Chatterley’s Lover and the Go-Between, fans of old-fashioned romance have never had it so good. today, the worlds of television and film are heaving with regency bosoms, hooped skirts and the restrained passions of a more discreet age.
every Sunday night, at about half past nine, it starts raining men. Men smouldering away like half-baked coals in frockcoats, velvets, top hats and tails. at their side are scheming womenfolk; girls who are either thwarted in love or exulting in some forbidden grand passion, but with all emotions packed under a hat speared with an ostrich feather or hidden behind a fluttering fan.
It’s just all too delicious for words, as they might say themselves. But as the relentless public appetite for period drama continues unabated, it is becoming clear there are rules that must be obeyed to ensure success.
the very best costume dramas have a special alchemy that follows a tried-and-trusted formula, full of set-piece scenes and instantly recognisable character types that viewers adore.
From the very first triumphs such as the Upstairs, Downstairs series in the Seventies through to the best adaptations of Jane austen, including Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility and the hollywood film of emma — starring Gwyneth Paltrow — the vital components have not changed.
First — and most importantly — there must be a Brooding hunk. It goes without saying his lips must hover by the trembling neck of his beloved, like humming birds fluttering before an orchid. he must also be troubled, noble and have a shirt- divesting phwoaar moment, whether or not it fits the script. Just do it.
everyone says the British are best at costume drama, but what we actually excel at is depicting silent resentment simmering inside a starched uniform. So every one must feature a relationship between master (or mistress) and servant that reveals prickly class tensions. above all, there must be a Frightful Snob who presides over the action, being beastly while acting as a cipher for Changing Society.
For unknown reasons, the phrase costume drama tends to imply something concerned with Britain between the Georgian era until the end of the 1930s, but that might be because in the modern age of sexting and instant gratifications, the charms of a more discreet bygone age grow ever more profound.
every crunch of a shoe on a gravel drive heralds sexual portent, every tilt of a bonnet — and there must be lots of bonnets — suggests close encounters of the clandestine kind.
there must, absolutely must, be some sort of horse ride that serves as a metaphor for lovemaking or unslaked lust, a passionate gallop to or from the arms of a lover.
there must also be a Caddish Villain whose job it is to curb ambition and kill innocent dreams. at some point, sooner rather than later, the entire cast must gather for a Grand Ball, whereupon they will be required to produce looks that suggest aching sexual craving as they quadrille and curtsey to a lute trio. It is after this, perhaps, that the mandatory Long-awaited Kiss will take place as romance between the leads is sealed or rent asunder.
of course, much of this will take part in the Grand Country house which is the real and enduring star of the show. (the National trust is always a winner when there’s a new period drama, isn’t it?)
once they’ve got these ingredients under wraps, who does it best? We pull on our spats and tiptoe through costume drama history to pinpoint how the magic formula works . . .