watch ALL the shows
I've now seen the whole Raffles series. Christopher Strauli's performance as Bunny either got better or grew on me (a combination of both, I think) and of course Anthony Valentine was always and entirely marvellous as Raffles. Probably my favorite moment in the entire series was his delight as he plays with the new electric lights and telephone he's had installed in his flat--his pleasure is both sophisticated (the wonders of modern technology!) and very childlike, and it explains a lot about Raffles's attitude towards other people's shiny diamonds.
But my favorite thing overall is that Raffles and Bunny are so. very. married.
The sense that the slashiness was there on purpose (it's obvious in the books, but could've been toned down for the series and sometimes was, except when it was heightened) continued throughout. There are too many examples to mention, but I must include this exchange between Bunny and a young woman as they, well, squee about Raffles:Woman: Oh, I adore him.
Bunny [rapturously]: Yes! [pause] Yes, well . . . well, I'm pretty fond of him myself.
Later, when Raffles has met and flirted with the young woman in question and she sends him a note, Bunny (learning who it's from) jealously responds with "Oh. Her."
Less cutely, there's also the very effective scene in which another society burglar threatens to ruin Raffles's name with unspecified gossip (which can't be about his burglaristic tendencies, because that gossip's already going around) until no one will receive him anymore. To me, at least, the implication seems clear.
There is a lot of nominal het, very little of which was in the books, but it never lasts or convinces. Meanwhile, Bunny and Raffles seem to spend every waking moment together (which they don't in the books) and treat their finances as shared, constantly referring to what "we" can or cannot afford (which, as I recall, they also don't in the books). It's especially obvious in the last episode, in which Raffles (cold-heartedly, in Bunny's opinion) proposes accepting an allowance from the husband of his old flame, on condition of staying away from her.Raffles: Oh, you mean the money is not decent?
Bunny: No, no, I don't.
Raffles: Or we don't need it, because we do. Or that it's wrong to accept money for what you were going to do anyway, or what?
Bunny: All right, I give in.
Raffles: Five hundred a year, Bunny. It will provide a solid basis for our lives. Buy the whisky and Sullivans and the dinners at the Cafe Royal.
Bunny: All right, all right, there's no arguing with you.
Raffles: Such as the dinner we are going to have tonight to celebrate our great good fortune.
Later in the episode, the (very rich) old flame decides to leave her husband and take Raffles away to the continent with her. He immediately runs to Bunny and starts working on a plan to avert this terrible fate.Raffles: I fear her more than any other person on God's earth.
Bunny: And you're going to run away with her?
Raffles: With her? From her, if I can run fast enough.
Bunny: Would you really run away from a woman who is beautiful and rich and -
Raffles: Yes.
Bunny: And who loves you?
Raffles: She would drag me round the courts of Europe as her consort. As her common-law husband. As her irregular, bar-sinister, slightly shameful second-in-command. No thank you.
Bunny: Do you mean you'd rather stay here?
Raffles: I love it here. I love my life here, with the burglings and the flirtations and the sticky wickets at Lord's and the dinners at the Cafe Royal. I wouldn't give them up for any woman, and certainly not for the Countess of Porton.
Bunny [smiling]: I'm glad, because I love it too.
Raffles [puts his hand on Bunny's shoulder]: So, the question is: How do we get the Countess of Porton to decide to give me up?
There's some sexism mixed in with Raffles' desire for autonomy, but to me the important thing is that the conclusion is as close to a declaration of love between Raffles and Bunny as the show could reasonably get.
Raffles ultimately decides to get out of the situation by faking his own death, a panicked overreaction that's not at all typical of him. There's a lovely moment between Bunny (who also believes Raffles dead) and the Countess of Porton at the graveside, where it's clear that Bunny is every bit as bereaved as she is. "He slipped through our fingers," Bunny says. And his incoherent joy when Raffles reveals he's still alive is beautifully acted, half smiles and half tears.
In conclusion: married. Unspokenly gay married in late-Victorian England, oh yes.
There are things from the books that I wish the show had taken on (especially the darker things, such as Raffles' disappearance and Bunny's two years in prison, and then, more cheerfully, them subsequently setting up house together after Raffles' return to England). But the show's light-hearted slashiness is a lot of fun, and I like to imagine this Bunny and Raffles being happy together forever. And not in any way going off to fight in the Boer War so that poor Raffles can be heroically killed (curse your Victorian values, E. W. Hornung!).
Crossposted at Dreamwidth (
comments); you can comment here or there.
But my favorite thing overall is that Raffles and Bunny are so. very. married.
The sense that the slashiness was there on purpose (it's obvious in the books, but could've been toned down for the series and sometimes was, except when it was heightened) continued throughout. There are too many examples to mention, but I must include this exchange between Bunny and a young woman as they, well, squee about Raffles:Woman: Oh, I adore him.
Bunny [rapturously]: Yes! [pause] Yes, well . . . well, I'm pretty fond of him myself.
Later, when Raffles has met and flirted with the young woman in question and she sends him a note, Bunny (learning who it's from) jealously responds with "Oh. Her."
Less cutely, there's also the very effective scene in which another society burglar threatens to ruin Raffles's name with unspecified gossip (which can't be about his burglaristic tendencies, because that gossip's already going around) until no one will receive him anymore. To me, at least, the implication seems clear.
There is a lot of nominal het, very little of which was in the books, but it never lasts or convinces. Meanwhile, Bunny and Raffles seem to spend every waking moment together (which they don't in the books) and treat their finances as shared, constantly referring to what "we" can or cannot afford (which, as I recall, they also don't in the books). It's especially obvious in the last episode, in which Raffles (cold-heartedly, in Bunny's opinion) proposes accepting an allowance from the husband of his old flame, on condition of staying away from her.Raffles: Oh, you mean the money is not decent?
Bunny: No, no, I don't.
Raffles: Or we don't need it, because we do. Or that it's wrong to accept money for what you were going to do anyway, or what?
Bunny: All right, I give in.
Raffles: Five hundred a year, Bunny. It will provide a solid basis for our lives. Buy the whisky and Sullivans and the dinners at the Cafe Royal.
Bunny: All right, all right, there's no arguing with you.
Raffles: Such as the dinner we are going to have tonight to celebrate our great good fortune.
Later in the episode, the (very rich) old flame decides to leave her husband and take Raffles away to the continent with her. He immediately runs to Bunny and starts working on a plan to avert this terrible fate.Raffles: I fear her more than any other person on God's earth.
Bunny: And you're going to run away with her?
Raffles: With her? From her, if I can run fast enough.
Bunny: Would you really run away from a woman who is beautiful and rich and -
Raffles: Yes.
Bunny: And who loves you?
Raffles: She would drag me round the courts of Europe as her consort. As her common-law husband. As her irregular, bar-sinister, slightly shameful second-in-command. No thank you.
Bunny: Do you mean you'd rather stay here?
Raffles: I love it here. I love my life here, with the burglings and the flirtations and the sticky wickets at Lord's and the dinners at the Cafe Royal. I wouldn't give them up for any woman, and certainly not for the Countess of Porton.
Bunny [smiling]: I'm glad, because I love it too.
Raffles [puts his hand on Bunny's shoulder]: So, the question is: How do we get the Countess of Porton to decide to give me up?
There's some sexism mixed in with Raffles' desire for autonomy, but to me the important thing is that the conclusion is as close to a declaration of love between Raffles and Bunny as the show could reasonably get.
Raffles ultimately decides to get out of the situation by faking his own death, a panicked overreaction that's not at all typical of him. There's a lovely moment between Bunny (who also believes Raffles dead) and the Countess of Porton at the graveside, where it's clear that Bunny is every bit as bereaved as she is. "He slipped through our fingers," Bunny says. And his incoherent joy when Raffles reveals he's still alive is beautifully acted, half smiles and half tears.
In conclusion: married. Unspokenly gay married in late-Victorian England, oh yes.
There are things from the books that I wish the show had taken on (especially the darker things, such as Raffles' disappearance and Bunny's two years in prison, and then, more cheerfully, them subsequently setting up house together after Raffles' return to England). But the show's light-hearted slashiness is a lot of fun, and I like to imagine this Bunny and Raffles being happy together forever. And not in any way going off to fight in the Boer War so that poor Raffles can be heroically killed (curse your Victorian values, E. W. Hornung!).
Crossposted at Dreamwidth (
comments); you can comment here or there.