The Cutprice Guignol

At one point, I was planning to review this second season of Wolf Hall as a single piece when it was done. Now? Now, I’m glad I chose to do it episode-by-episode, because I don’t think I would have been able to sensibly capture the enormity of what this show is pulling off in a single article without getting into dissertation territory.

After sparring with Mary last week about the recognition of her father as the head of the church, Cromwell faces accusations that he is trying to find a way into marriage with the King’s daughter. Dissolution of monasteries across the country leads to a visit to Shaftesbury Abbey, where he shares a charged conversation with a nun -the illegitimate daughter of Cardinal Wolsey, Dorothea – shakes him to the core.

First off, let’s talk about the man of the hour here, and that’s Mark Rylance. Because this performance might just be the best he’s put in as part of the series (so far, at least). We’ve seen Cromwell construct such an intensely-controlled image and reputation over the course of the last decade or so, and this episode even goes to great lengths to remind us of it. The first chunk of the story is dedicated to Cromwell’s swift and efficient management of an unauthorized tryst between Margaret, the King’s niece, and a member of the irradiated post-apocalyptic cockroaches of the contemporary English bourgeoisie, the Norfolk family. Watching him navigate this scandal is familiar, almost satisfying, in its way – to see Cromwell so efficiently unpick this would-be romance is so comfortable it even has elements of comedy, as he ruthlessly tears into the poetry of Margaret’s suitor. We know this Cromwell, everyone knows this Cromwell; in charge, intractable, impenetrable.

But a leak from inside his house leads to the rumour that he’s planning to pursue Mary, with whom he does share a fond relationship – though it’s not this that really serves to shake him. No, it’s a trip to Shaftesbury Abbey, to visit Cardinal Wolsey’s illegitimate daughter turned nun Dorothea (Hannah Khalique-Brown), that really sends the cards tumbling, and, as a viewer, it’s pretty extraordinary to watch.

Cromwell proposes marriage to Dorothea at first – not out of lust, but rather out of love for her father, or so he claims. But Dorothea soon reveals that she believes Cromwell is the reason for her father’s disgrace and demise – that he betrayed Wolsey, by diverting letters meant for France and putting them in the hands of the King. For Cromwell, it’s a shattering revelation – his closest relationship in the show has been with Wolsey (in this episode, he describes loving him “next to God”), and, even in death, the Cardinal has served as his internal confidante and compass. It’s clear that his attempt to marry Dorothea was, in some way, an attempt to preserve the familial connection he had with the Cardinal – only to find out that his closest friend’s remaining family believe him to be a traitor, the cause of his death, even.

The way Rylance plays this is just sensational – it feels almost intrusive to see him weeping in the corridors of the abbey in the aftermath of the confrontation, seeking reassurance from the people around him, practically begging them to assure him he did not betray his friend. He is no longer in control of his reputation, both past and present, and that’s a bad portent for what is to come.

And, speaking of bad portents, let’s talk about King Henry (Damien Lewis). I think one of the things Wolf Hall does so well with his character is to balance the absurdity of the King – prancing about, in this episode, in Turkish garb – with the enormous and terrifying weight of his power. He’s a ridiculous person, in many ways, a hypocrite seemingly blind to his own obvious contradictions, but he still holds the entire country in his thrall. Damien Lewis finds this place where Henry is both absurd and intimidating, characteristics that are only going to grow more prominent as this season continues.

Finally, I thought this episode title was an interesting choice, after the central conversation of last week’s episode – that obedience is a form of strength, not a form of submission. And the way this episode picked up on this thread with Mary really jumped out at me. When Cromwell visits her, she remarks on the marriage that her father is apparently planning for her, though she clearly doesn’t want it; obedience, for Mary and for women in general at this time, means something very different than it does for men like Cromwell. It’s a sentiment that’s echoed in the conversation he has with Dorothea later, when she describes his proposal as a purchase, a very compelling reminder of the fact that there are experiences Cromwell cannot account for or fully understand.

Overall, this is just an outrageously brilliant episode – and one that sets up some seriously interesting plots in the weeks to come. Mark Rylance’s downright astonishing central performance might never have been better, but I get the feeling we’re going to see things get even heavier for our pal Tommy Crommy before the season is out.

How’s this second season shaping up for you so far, now that we’re (ugh) already a third of the way through the season? Let me know in the comments!

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(header image via BBC)