Channel hop
Any production that has Kate Winslet in the lead role shouldn't be hard to sell. From Titanic to The Reader, the actress has proven captivating and versatile in any role she goes takes on, which is why many of us will be tuning in to the two-hour premiere of Mildred Pierce (HBO; Thursdays at 9pm).
The five-part miniseries, adapted from a 1941 James M. Cain novel, tells the story of a destitute, divorced single mother who becomes a successful restaurateur in Depression-era California. Central to the drama is Pierce's struggle to win the respect and love of her snobby, self-serving daughter, Veda.
By all accounts, director Todd Haynes has remained faithful to Cain's original story and went to great lengths to recreate the middle-class America of the 1930s. The period clothes, cars, food, music and mannerisms, amply featured in a lush and lingering style of cinematography, are indeed immersive - one can almost smell and taste the home-made key lime and apple pies that Pierce builds her business upon.
What doesn't ring true is the relationship between Pierce and her horrible daughter (played by Morgan Turner and, when older, by Evan Rachel Wood), and that's a big problem when there's seven hours of viewing. We just couldn't ignore this core disconnect despite compelling performances by Winslet and the rest of the stellar cast, which includes Guy Pearce, Melissa Leo, Brian F. O'Byrne and Mare Winningham.
The problem isn't just with Veda being inexplicably heartless from the get go (the 11-year-old's disdain-soaked reaction to her mother's cottage industry baking: 'One might think peasants had taken over the house'); it's also the mind-boggling way Pierce continues to take the abuse while bending over backwards to support her daughter's extravagance and pursuit of musical fame. Maternal love, unrequited at that, can only go so far in explaining the lack of judgment or self-control Pierce has when it comes to the increasingly evil Veda.
In our fantasy revision of the source material, Pierce would have cut Veda off somewhere between the second and third episode, and we would all have gone home early with a sense of justice served. As it is, the implausible dynamic persists and becomes an oppressive hotbox that we are only too glad to escape when the final chapter ends.
By contrast, British screenwriters Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat (both contributors to Doctor Who) helm a refreshing revision of Arthur Conan Doyle's most famous character in Sherlock (AXN Beyond; Mondays at 9.50pm). This 21st-century sleuth (above left; Benedict Cumberbatch, Atonement) is arrogant, a techie and a self-described 'high-functioning sociopath'. He texts, uses GPS and doesn't smoke a pipe - instead he is addicted to nicotine patches ('They help me think,' he says). But despite the chronological changes, Sherlock remains loyal to the spirit of the original tales - most successfully in the wonderful dynamic between Holmes and straight-man sidekick Dr John Watson (above right; Martin Freeman, The Office). Their dry, whimsical interaction makes for great comic relief during the well-paced, three-part series of murder and suspense.
The first episode, A Study in Pink, takes its plot from Conan Doyle's initial Holmes yarn, A Study in Scarlet. Those who cherish the book will relish the clever twists to the original plot details, as well as the dizzying deduction sequences. The game, as the latest Holmes is fond of saying, is on.
