GRANTCHESTER PIMPAGE POST No. 2
Heyyyy Americans - guess what's airing on PBS tonight at 10pm EST, after Downton Abbey? Yep, it's that new detective show I've already gushed about some months ago, but now I need to do a bit more because IT'S JUST THAT GOOD.
Btw, below are only the most vague spoilers for background characterization and types of cases covered; nothing too specific or pertaining to individual episode plots, or - heaven forbid - the solution of the mystery-of-the-week. :)
Some thoughts on Grantchester's take on masculinity in post-WWII Britain, failures of perception, investigation from a socially liminal POV, and al-co-hollllll...
One thing I'm loving about this show is its take on crime: in detective narratives, criminals are portrayed somewhere along the spectrum between deviants within a good, moral, healthy world, OR rebels against an oppressive, unjust, fucked up world. Rarely does a detective story focus on criminals as members of their society, look at their actions within the context of crime as a moral choice, and treat them with compassion (of the understanding-though-not-justifying kind) while still calling for accountability. It's... humane and refreshing, you know?
This empathetic perspective from which the stories are told belongs to Sidney Chambers, who is interestingly situated in the titular community. In the very first scene of the pilot, he's introduced as the example of peak-shape, bright-young-thing-ish, 1950s masculinity: tall, handsome, healthy, flirting with a beautiful young woman in the countryside... and then the rest of the show deconstructs that notion pretty thoroughly. As tanndell pointed out on twitter some weeks ago, he is impoverished gentry (therefore displaced by class), a WWII veteran (and suffering from PTSD due to certain events in battle), a vicar (therefore emasculated by his profession - more on this later), and rather open to interpretation of morality in certain contexts (not what you'd expect from clergy, to say the least). In addition, Sidney loves jazz; is in love with a woman he doesn't dare pursue (because she's the super wealthy gentry); doesn't seem to hold the 1950s-typical racist, sexist, and homophobic views; and starts off the plot of the first episode with a controversial decision to hold a funeral for an apparent suicide (because god forgives all etc). So he is positioned as a liminal figure in a number of ways, by fate and/or choice.
Tanndell also mentioned the magic phrase "failures of perception" which got me thinking how social ideals create perception frameworks, which in turn inform thought processes, which can lead to failures of identifying crime/the criminal due to, basically, partial social vision. I think that life outside certain ideals (of masculinity, for example) is the source behind Sidney's detective skills. Sure, he's smart, observant, has great eye for detail, and often figures out what's happening in the lives of his parishioners thanks to being a part of those lives, but there is another two-step advantage: 1) as Keating, his partner in crime-solving, points out, people tell him things; and the ever-so-important follow-up: 2) Sidney actually listens. In other words, his profession (and complicated identity) is an advantage because Sidney is taken into confidence by the members of society whose voices and/or perspectives are ALSO outside the realm of authoritative convention - female, non-white, gay etc. He sees what the police force, which is traditionally masculine, & hierarchical in attributing weight/truthfulness to people's statements based on their social status, usually do not. AND, because he looks like the social ideal but occupies the space outside of it, the person who speaks to him in the pilot believes that he can do something about her confidential statement - take her suspicions to the police, and help the un-perceived evidence transcend its outsider placement so the killer can be found.
(It's significant that the pilot sets up the confessional nature of such confidences as outside the purview of investigation: Sidney insists that the details beyond the "anonymous tip" remain secret, because he respects the sanctity of the confidence placed in him. This respect goes beyond religious calling and serves as a confirmation that the narrative, and the two investigative leads, respect and acknowledge the inhabitants of these social spaces. And this is IMPORTANT. ♥)
Anyway, I'm really curious about Sidney's background (and hope to get even more insight in the future episodes): I think his status as impoverished gentry has set him up as a sort of an outsider to begin with - so before the war, presumably before he picks a profession, he's already in a social position in which he has to think about the structures around him. (Also, it's doubtful he developed empathy and insight overnight the moment he became a vicar.) During the war, he pursues the self-identity of a warrior - pretty successfully, it seems, since he became the leader of his troops - until the events that leave him with PTSD. He still has the body of the warrior as lauded in the 40s, strength and masculinity etc. plus scars as a sort of venerated badge of honor/physical testament to the past identity... but it's also an identity which kind of broke him. :(
So he returns home and turns to a religious occupation, which puts him into an unconventional masculine identity, while placing him both inside the society AND outside of it. It's where he eventually starts to use his position and insights granted therein to start helping the police, because let's face it: crime solving is much more exciting than daily work at the vicarage, and Sidney is not into being a typical vicar either. In this role, he is often able to help Keating because he looks beyond the expected wireframes of social conformity: he sees what's out of place, and it's usually not the sort of thing the "ideal" 1950s man is supposed to notice. For example, he figures out a certain location is a hookup spot for gay men, identifies adultery where the cops don't see it, and refuses to go after the usual suspect of a violent crime just because he's black. Basically, he is not exactly comfortable in his own life, and his identity/masculinity are questioned all the time, but he is good at crime solving precisely because of that social discomfort.
Speaking of masculinity: it's a recurring bit that (usually male and successfully masculine-coded) characters keep offering Sidney a glass of sherry "because that's what vicars drink" - whereas he repeatedly opts for whiskey (because although he's not a warrior anymore, he clings to the fact that he WAS - and he also isn't a ~regular vicar). The one male character who fits the ideal of post-WWII masculinity of a husband, father, hard worker, social drinker, person who upholds the law, is Keating; and it's really interesting to me that he clicks with Sidney EXCEPTIONALLY WELL and almost immediately recognizes his skills. In addition, the way he teases Sidney about booze and women is the way one manly guy teases another, whereas many others try to undermine Sidney's masculinity - possibly because his social status unsettles or even threatens them, because it is largely liminal BY CHOICE (and identity often seeks the illusion of a "natural" foundation). Keating even wistfully says that, in another life, Sidney would've made a great D.I. on his team, but I believe even he realizes that part of Sidney's success at detective work is contingent upon his feeling of displacement.
Which brings us to BOOZE! A mandatory element of social life and respectable masculinity through the 1940s, by mid-century it was examined as part of post-WWII social anxiety. The word "alcoholism" emerged in the medical and psychological analyses of the post-war gender identity crisis - and, rather importantly in the context of Grantchester, changed the "drinking problem" definition from sin to disease. Sidney, who practices certain traditionally masculine behaviors as a vicar (smoking and drinking in a pub, enjoying whiskey at home) begins to think about his own drinking, not on a random morning after he wakes up with a hangover, but when a friend who studies psychology hands him a published article on how war trauma may cause alcohol abuse. He is not the only male character who displays the destructive connection between stress/loss and drinking on the show, so the narrative definitely - and repeatedly - touches upon this subject of significance in the time period. Again, it's unexpected and quite refreshing to see such an examination in a "pleasant" historical mystery narrative; amazing how controversial issues can come across as "tame" when presented in truly compassionate, insightful, and smart storytelling, you know? ;)
AAAAAAANYWAY. That... got out of hand, didn't it. (Ugh, I was so much better at this in school.) Salient points for the TL;DR crowd:
1) Check out Grantchester at 10pm EST tonight on PBS! Six eps per season = minimum commitment. (you know you wanna.)
2) The show is smart and sharp and GORGEOUS and very, very insightful.
3) The head writer is the brilliant Daisy Coulam (check out her twitter here), and I can't wait to see what she does for season 2 - but let's watch season 1 first, shall we? :p
Btw, below are only the most vague spoilers for background characterization and types of cases covered; nothing too specific or pertaining to individual episode plots, or - heaven forbid - the solution of the mystery-of-the-week. :)
Some thoughts on Grantchester's take on masculinity in post-WWII Britain, failures of perception, investigation from a socially liminal POV, and al-co-hollllll...
One thing I'm loving about this show is its take on crime: in detective narratives, criminals are portrayed somewhere along the spectrum between deviants within a good, moral, healthy world, OR rebels against an oppressive, unjust, fucked up world. Rarely does a detective story focus on criminals as members of their society, look at their actions within the context of crime as a moral choice, and treat them with compassion (of the understanding-though-not-justifying kind) while still calling for accountability. It's... humane and refreshing, you know?
This empathetic perspective from which the stories are told belongs to Sidney Chambers, who is interestingly situated in the titular community. In the very first scene of the pilot, he's introduced as the example of peak-shape, bright-young-thing-ish, 1950s masculinity: tall, handsome, healthy, flirting with a beautiful young woman in the countryside... and then the rest of the show deconstructs that notion pretty thoroughly. As tanndell pointed out on twitter some weeks ago, he is impoverished gentry (therefore displaced by class), a WWII veteran (and suffering from PTSD due to certain events in battle), a vicar (therefore emasculated by his profession - more on this later), and rather open to interpretation of morality in certain contexts (not what you'd expect from clergy, to say the least). In addition, Sidney loves jazz; is in love with a woman he doesn't dare pursue (because she's the super wealthy gentry); doesn't seem to hold the 1950s-typical racist, sexist, and homophobic views; and starts off the plot of the first episode with a controversial decision to hold a funeral for an apparent suicide (because god forgives all etc). So he is positioned as a liminal figure in a number of ways, by fate and/or choice.
Tanndell also mentioned the magic phrase "failures of perception" which got me thinking how social ideals create perception frameworks, which in turn inform thought processes, which can lead to failures of identifying crime/the criminal due to, basically, partial social vision. I think that life outside certain ideals (of masculinity, for example) is the source behind Sidney's detective skills. Sure, he's smart, observant, has great eye for detail, and often figures out what's happening in the lives of his parishioners thanks to being a part of those lives, but there is another two-step advantage: 1) as Keating, his partner in crime-solving, points out, people tell him things; and the ever-so-important follow-up: 2) Sidney actually listens. In other words, his profession (and complicated identity) is an advantage because Sidney is taken into confidence by the members of society whose voices and/or perspectives are ALSO outside the realm of authoritative convention - female, non-white, gay etc. He sees what the police force, which is traditionally masculine, & hierarchical in attributing weight/truthfulness to people's statements based on their social status, usually do not. AND, because he looks like the social ideal but occupies the space outside of it, the person who speaks to him in the pilot believes that he can do something about her confidential statement - take her suspicions to the police, and help the un-perceived evidence transcend its outsider placement so the killer can be found.
(It's significant that the pilot sets up the confessional nature of such confidences as outside the purview of investigation: Sidney insists that the details beyond the "anonymous tip" remain secret, because he respects the sanctity of the confidence placed in him. This respect goes beyond religious calling and serves as a confirmation that the narrative, and the two investigative leads, respect and acknowledge the inhabitants of these social spaces. And this is IMPORTANT. ♥)
Anyway, I'm really curious about Sidney's background (and hope to get even more insight in the future episodes): I think his status as impoverished gentry has set him up as a sort of an outsider to begin with - so before the war, presumably before he picks a profession, he's already in a social position in which he has to think about the structures around him. (Also, it's doubtful he developed empathy and insight overnight the moment he became a vicar.) During the war, he pursues the self-identity of a warrior - pretty successfully, it seems, since he became the leader of his troops - until the events that leave him with PTSD. He still has the body of the warrior as lauded in the 40s, strength and masculinity etc. plus scars as a sort of venerated badge of honor/physical testament to the past identity... but it's also an identity which kind of broke him. :(
So he returns home and turns to a religious occupation, which puts him into an unconventional masculine identity, while placing him both inside the society AND outside of it. It's where he eventually starts to use his position and insights granted therein to start helping the police, because let's face it: crime solving is much more exciting than daily work at the vicarage, and Sidney is not into being a typical vicar either. In this role, he is often able to help Keating because he looks beyond the expected wireframes of social conformity: he sees what's out of place, and it's usually not the sort of thing the "ideal" 1950s man is supposed to notice. For example, he figures out a certain location is a hookup spot for gay men, identifies adultery where the cops don't see it, and refuses to go after the usual suspect of a violent crime just because he's black. Basically, he is not exactly comfortable in his own life, and his identity/masculinity are questioned all the time, but he is good at crime solving precisely because of that social discomfort.
Speaking of masculinity: it's a recurring bit that (usually male and successfully masculine-coded) characters keep offering Sidney a glass of sherry "because that's what vicars drink" - whereas he repeatedly opts for whiskey (because although he's not a warrior anymore, he clings to the fact that he WAS - and he also isn't a ~regular vicar). The one male character who fits the ideal of post-WWII masculinity of a husband, father, hard worker, social drinker, person who upholds the law, is Keating; and it's really interesting to me that he clicks with Sidney EXCEPTIONALLY WELL and almost immediately recognizes his skills. In addition, the way he teases Sidney about booze and women is the way one manly guy teases another, whereas many others try to undermine Sidney's masculinity - possibly because his social status unsettles or even threatens them, because it is largely liminal BY CHOICE (and identity often seeks the illusion of a "natural" foundation). Keating even wistfully says that, in another life, Sidney would've made a great D.I. on his team, but I believe even he realizes that part of Sidney's success at detective work is contingent upon his feeling of displacement.
Which brings us to BOOZE! A mandatory element of social life and respectable masculinity through the 1940s, by mid-century it was examined as part of post-WWII social anxiety. The word "alcoholism" emerged in the medical and psychological analyses of the post-war gender identity crisis - and, rather importantly in the context of Grantchester, changed the "drinking problem" definition from sin to disease. Sidney, who practices certain traditionally masculine behaviors as a vicar (smoking and drinking in a pub, enjoying whiskey at home) begins to think about his own drinking, not on a random morning after he wakes up with a hangover, but when a friend who studies psychology hands him a published article on how war trauma may cause alcohol abuse. He is not the only male character who displays the destructive connection between stress/loss and drinking on the show, so the narrative definitely - and repeatedly - touches upon this subject of significance in the time period. Again, it's unexpected and quite refreshing to see such an examination in a "pleasant" historical mystery narrative; amazing how controversial issues can come across as "tame" when presented in truly compassionate, insightful, and smart storytelling, you know? ;)
AAAAAAANYWAY. That... got out of hand, didn't it. (Ugh, I was so much better at this in school.) Salient points for the TL;DR crowd:
1) Check out Grantchester at 10pm EST tonight on PBS! Six eps per season = minimum commitment. (you know you wanna.)
2) The show is smart and sharp and GORGEOUS and very, very insightful.
3) The head writer is the brilliant Daisy Coulam (check out her twitter here), and I can't wait to see what she does for season 2 - but let's watch season 1 first, shall we? :p