Looking at this cast you might think you're in for a treat. You're not. There's no plot, no character development, no action -- pretty much nothing except pretentious allegory spread over almost six hours. Worst of all is what the director, who seems to have lost total control over the show, must have said to the two lead actors: "whatever you do, in every scene, forget everything you did in the last scene." The two weave in and out of character like spinning tops, never coalescing into coherent people. Worse, poor Tom Hiddleston's role is basically just that of a clothes horse: somehow this impoverished country vicar has a wardrobe that would make any modern man envious, including what seems to be a $5K Tom Ford tuxedo. (There are quite a number of "huh?" moments in this mess, ranging from secondary actors seemingly wandering on and off the sets to the little details that ruin a period piece, such as doctors wearing wristwatches (a 1894 doctor would have had a doctor's pocket watch) and women in medical school (didn't happen til much later), and of course, the fact that the vicar's bedraggled, plain wife is played by one of France's most beautiful fashion models (who actually is an excellent actress but not here, where all she is allowed to do is look dour and smile wanly whenever her name is mentioned).
Just a mess of a mess of a mess. You wind up hoping the serpent comes and eats everyone up and puts an end to all this misery.
Just a mess of a mess of a mess. You wind up hoping the serpent comes and eats everyone up and puts an end to all this misery.