The much-anticipated Crimson Petal and the White is the latest BBC period drama to hit our screens - surprisingly not on a Sunday night, which is the usual slot for these Victorian affairs. Presumably this is testament to the content, which, instead of focusing on the cosy upper classes, has the grim life of a prostitute take centre stage. Its weeknight slot suggests the audience appeal is slightly different to that of your typical period drama.
The Crimson Petal and the White was adapted from Michel Faber’s 2002 bestseller. Upon researching the unbelievably vast scale of prostitution in Victorian England, Faber set out to reflect its true realism using “the riches of Victorian prose without any of the usual artificiality costume drama.” This same vision is clearly what writer Lucinda Coxon and director Marc Munden have attempted to re-create on screen.
Set in the desolate streets of St Giles, London, where poverty and starvation is ripe, Mrs Castaway’s whorehouse is the prime-place for business. Played by Gillian Anderson, Mrs Castaway is a dishevelled character akin to the likes found in the pages of Dickens. Her star attraction is Sugar, Romola Garai, who has a reputation as a girl who “never disappoints”. Self taught to read and write, she is an intelligent and driven individual, who finds solace in writing a sadistic novel in which she seeks revenge on “every pompous trembling worm who taps at Mrs Castaway’s door”.
In pursuit of Sugar is William Rackham, Chris O'Dowd, a failing writer and businessman. Fragile and disturbed, his wife Agnes, played superbly by Amanda Hale, is bedridden. Although all is not as it seems as you quickly discover that she is a victim of the abusive Dr Curlew, Richard E Grant.
If Sugar is the crimson petal then Agnes is the white. Both suffer at the hands of men in a misogynistic world. Agnes has money, is devoutly religious, and is sexually prudent, Sugar is poor, sells her body for money, and is sexually adept. However, it is clear that female submission to men transcends across the classes and in Victorian England men remain powerful and have the free reign to exploit it.
Thankfully The Crimson Petal and the White firmly portrays the grim reality of prostitution without unnecessarily sensationalising it for those who tuned in to see a good romp. The audience is forced to watch it from Sugar’s perspective, often through an extreme close-up on her hollow face. She takes no pleasure from the indignity she has to endure: her body is being used and she has no choice but to let it be.
Like with the majority of BBC period dramas The Crimson Petal and the White is of a high standard. And, as with most great dramas, I was gripped enough that when the episode ended I just wanted it to continue.
To catch up on this episode please click here.
