Every season, the Drama After Dark team gathers ‘round the (virtual) conference room table to watch the latest and greatest in British dramas. This month, we’re covering North and South: a killer period drama that will air on GBX 44 in May (and is currently available to stream on Brit Box).
Now look, I’ve watched (and recapped!) a LOT of dramas at GBH. A lot. But it’s not every day that I get to cover a show like North and South, which seems to be almost universally adored and which I, somehow, have never seen outside of a few excellent gifs. So when the GBH Drama team found out that this program would air on GBX 44 later this year, it was on.
Our show starts where many others would end: a wedding. And lest you think that Pinterest is to blame for the current situation vis-à-vis nuptial insanity, we find out that the reception we’re witnessing would make even a Kardashian blush.
City Mom: Oof, what a day. Look, am I glad my kid married in style? Sure. But at what cost? Seriously, it’s enough to make me wish I lived out in the country like you, sis. But we can’t all be happily poor and married for love, now can we??
In the corner, our heroine Margaret looks on with the kind of restrained exhaustion that anyone between the ages of 30 and 40 (plague year notwithstanding) will recognize on their own face in the middle of the fourth (or is it fifth?) wedding of the season. But alas: Mags’ attempt to hide is not to be, because a dour fella with what I’m sorry to say is a markedly receding hairline is here for a lil’ chat.
Mr. Rogaine: LOL you look bored.
Mags: Not bored, just sick of this nonsense. Look at this goofy-ass hair thing they put me in. I tell ya, this wedding seals the deal on my “courthouse wedding or bust” plan.
Mr. Rogaine: Well I think you look nice. You always look nice.
Mags, missing the giant neon “I <3 u” sign over Mr. Rogaine’s head: Aw, sweet. I love my cousin but I reallllllly can’t wait to go back to my house in the countryside.
Mr. Rogaine: You really are obsessed with the country lifestyle huh?
Mags: Uh, yeah buddy.
Folks, I can’t disagree, because the next thing we know we’re transported out to a setting that can only be described as pastoral AF. Mags is really leaning into the splendor in the grass vibes when once again her quiet meditations are interrupted by Mr. Rogaine.
Mags: Woah, where did you come from? And why are you here, is something wrong with my cousin?
Mr. Rogaine: Nooooo, I just wanted to come get a slice of country perfection. Both in the literal and figurative sense, I’m not being subtle about it!
Mags: Cool, cool, well I guess have a seat then? For the nature, not me, just to be clear.
Later, Mags shows Mr. Rogaine to her house, and let me tell ya, he’s got pretty good era-appropriate game. Unfortunately for him, his feelings are super duper unrequited.
Mr. Rogaine: Hey, so, remember when your cousin married my brother and we got stuck at the singles table together and you told me all about your dream wedding?
Mags: Uh oh
Mr. Rogaine: Well, I was wondering…
Mags: Oh no
Mr. Rogaine: Would you maybe want to have that wedding with —
Mags: Stop right there. I’m so sorry, please don’t ask me what you’re about to ask me.
Mr. Rogaine: What the hell? You made it seem like you’d be into all this! In the city, no one talks about their wedding unless it’s with someone they’re gonna, well, wed!
Mags: Well I’m not from London, pal. Sorry you thought I was into you, but just not interested in marriage right now.
Mr. Rogaine: Well that sucks! Guess I’m storming out then!
Don’t let the door hit you on the way out, Rogaine: it’s not fair to assume everyone has the same understanding of social cues as you do, and regardless of the niceties, Mags is very clearly just not that into you. Get over it!
Alas, that somewhat awkward interaction seems to have set the scene for worse things to come. Two months later, we’re transported to a train car bearing Mags and her family to the city.
You read that right: for some reason, this country-loving family is relocating, and no one is happy about it. Something’s gone pear shaped with Country Dad’s job, it seems, and the ladies of the household are frankly pretty down on even his optimistic plan to find students he can tutor. Mags tries to soothe everyone’s nerves: yes, they’re moving to a city, but surely it won’t be THAT bad.
The Country Squad disembarks in Milton, a city that has exactly the dark grimy vibe you might expect from early industrialism. It’s so horrible that Country Mom starts crying on their maid Dixon immediately. Lucky for them, Mags and her dad are a little more adventurous, and they split up to head into the city to check out potential housing options. Unfortunately for us, this isn’t an episode of Property Brothers, so Mags gets to look at a series of squalid hellholes that will DEFINITELY find some flimsy excuse to keep her security deposit like the rest of us. At least during the house hunt we get to hear some hot goss re: Country Dad. See, one of his pals sent a servant to come check out the place, and this servant? He’s here to spill some tea.
Random Servant: Oh, yeah, I’m not gonna live here, it’s for a former priest. He’s not fancy so I’m sure he’ll be fine with this dump. Apparently he quit his job over some weird ethics thing?
Landlord: Wow, it must’ve been something mighty embarrassing, otherwise why would he make his family move all the way up here?
Random Servant: LOL, probably! Anyway, we can make some minor repairs but don’t worry about these ugly ass decorations, they’ll be fine. Hold up, who are you, strange eavesdropper?
Mags: Fun fact: I’m the daughter of that guy you were just gossiping about! Who are you?
Random Servant: I work for Mr. Thornton, your dad’s work friend. My boss sent me to help!
Mags: Whatever man. You, landlord, how much is the rent?
Random Servant: Uh, well, Mr. Thornton can talk about that with your dad; no reason for you to get worried about it.
Mags: Yeah, except I don’t know who the hell you or Mr. Thornton ARE. I’ve spent the last two days house hunting so I know the market. Actually, you know what, if he’s so keen to insert himself in my family’s business, let’s go meet with him right now. What is it with strange men out here trying to manage my family, good gravy!
Random Servant, bowing to Mags’ Strong Female Character energy, does what she says and takes her off to see Mr. Thornton at his factory. I’m sure they’ll get along just great and we’re not at all in for an enemies-to-lovers narrative for the ages!
Anyway, apparently Mags is a wee bit impatient, because instead of waiting in the office like she was supposed to, she wanders through Thornton’s mill like a nightmarish walking OSHA violation. And speaking of OSHA violations, just as soon as she finds the room with all the looms, an eagle-eyed gentleman catches one of the workers smoking a pipe, and all hell breaks loose. There’s a chase. There’s a confrontation. There’s an ass-kicking. It’s not pretty. However, it’s probably a lot prettier than the kind of massive fire that could be caused by smoking in a room that’s just full to the brim with LOOMS, so TBH I’m on the angry boss’ side. Mags, in a shock to no one, isn’t, and tries to intervene. It doesn’t go well! Thornton (for, yes, obviously that’s who the angry boss is) yells at her to go wait in the office like she was supposed to, and kicks his erstwhile employee one more time for good measure.
Outside, Mags completely freaks out. What a mean man! What horrible conditions! Yikes! Before we can dwell too much, though, it’s time for an interlude with recently-married Cousin Edith, who’s written a nice note to Mags.
The Letter:
Mags! I just got back from my honeymoon in Corfu, and while I didn’t see a single Durrell, it was still swell. Look, I’m going to level with you: what the hell is your dad DOING? You guys were already country mice, and now you’re in a freakin’ mill town? Where they make cotton, a fabric which is NEVER going to catch on? Ridiculous!
That deserves an answer from Mags, and we get it.
The Reply:
Dear Edith: Guess what, I completely redecorated this ugly-ass house we’re staying in! Dixon is either loving city life or found uppers, because she’s on a tear trying to find us another maid (so far, no luck — it’s almost as if people here in the city expect a living wage and have opinions lol).
The rest of the letter paints what we could either charitably call “rosy” or accurately call “fake as hell” picture of The Country Squad's life in the city, starting with Mags and Country Mom finally deciding it just might be time to confront Country Dad about the whole “mysteriously moving across the country in disgrace” thing.
Country Dad: Whaaaat? Why do you ask?
Mags: Well I overheard a few conversations, and I have questions.
Country Mom: Me too. Why’d you quit your job? It’s weird, man! It’s like we’re running away from something. Just because we’re ride or die for you doesn’t mean everyone else gets it.
Country Dad: Ok, here’s why I left: check out this letter from the new Bishop.
Country Mom: This literally just asks you to confirm you believe in all the stuff in the book of common prayer??
Country Dad: Uh, yeah, exactly!! First of all, it’s rude of this guy to even ASK, and second of all, I’m not sure I actually do believe in all that stuff anymore. I couldn’t just lie! This is a classic Jiminy Cricket scenario! And I’m not alone in this!
Country Mom: No, this is a classic Pissing Off Your Wife scenario!! Did all the other guys ALSO make their families move to this crummy city? I assumed you must have lost your faith, or felt like you had to minister up here: something MAJOR that made this move make sense. But instead you gave up everything for a formality???
Country Dad: Noo, it’s not like that, and I found work, we’re gonna be fine! Maybe teaching really is my vocation!
Country Mom: Listen pal, the people here don’t want to learn from you: their only god is capitalism. Truly, I’m so mad at you I could SPIT.
Also not super happy? Mags, who deffinitely lied to her cousin about liking their new city. After the fun confrontation with Dad, she gets lost on a walk and beset by a group of factory workers who rough her up and seem on the verge of stealing her purse when one of them finally intervenes. I’m sure he’s got an actual name, but it’s the same actor who plays Bates on Downton Abbey, so he’ll always be Bates’ Earthy Granddad to me.
Bates’ Earthy Granddad: Look, I need to give you some street smarts. Be careful where you’re walking when you hear the factory whistle, and don’t mind those kids — they just like to taunt you ‘cause you’re pretty and street harassers gonna harass, if you know what I’m saying. Get in this cab and get outta here.
Mags: Can I at least pay you for your trouble?
Bates’ Earthy Granddad: LOL, no, just be careful next time. Bye!
Back at the house, Mags happens to wander past Country Dad’s lesson with a private client. Before she can sneak upstairs and avoid a conversation, Country Dad calls her in to introduce her to his new friend, Mr. Thornton, who I’m personally delighted to see again. Mags does NOT agree with me.
Thornton: Oh, we’ve met.
Country Dad: Cool. I for some reason have no followup questions! Anyway, Mags, Thorny here can’t pick between Aristotle and Plato… here’s what I’m thinking:
Thorny: Well, look, I should probably explain that your daughter and I met when I had to fire a guy for smoking around the looms.
Mags: If by “fire” you mean beat the shit out of him, then yeah.
Country Dad: Mags, slow your roll!
Thorny: Oh, no, I totally beat the shit out of that guy! But you have to understand, fire is catastrophically dangerous in my line of work.
Mags: That guy was a pathetic poor; way to punch down. LITERALLY. And then you yelled at KIDS.
Thorny: Well maybe if you’d seen a whole factory full of dead bodies, including kids, after an accidental fire, you’d get it. Anyway, I should leave. You’re coming to dinner next week, right Country Dad?
Country Dad: Yeah, sure. And we can do Plato next week. You’ll like him: he, too, had a mean right hook.
Mags, feeling maybe slightly bad about the whole thing, goes for a walk. You see, our gal is in desperate need of not-furious-at-Country Dad female companionship, and having spotted one of the ladies from Thorny’s factory, she’s shooting her shot.
New Friend: Hey, weirdo: are you following me?
Mags: No? Ok, yes. I just recognized you and thought I’d say hi?
New Friend: Oh yeah, I recognize you too — you’re the one who stood up to ol’ Thorny. I remember because I immediately wrote a slash fic about you two in my diary when I got home. Enemies to lovers? Yes please!
Mags: Uh. Well I don’t want to tie you up.
New Friend:
But for real, I’m not that busy, I’m just walking across town to see my dad. Oh hey, that’s him now!
Look, this is a work of fiction, so it’s not a weird coincidence that New Friend’s dad is none other than Bates’ Earthy Granddad from before (which I guess makes New Friend Bates’ Mum? This family tree is getting weird). Anyway, it turns out that the Family Bates has been gossiping about our out-of-towner friend.
Mags: See, I’m probably making it weird, but I was wondering if I could come stop by and bring you a basket?
New Friend: For what, our potpourri? Get serious, pal; we aren’t fancy enough for that.
Bates’ Earthy Granddad: Yeah, and we don’t like strangers in our house. See up here there’s a different set of social norms — we only go to visit people if we’re invited.
Mags: Ugh I’m sorry I stepped in it — didn’t mean to be rude!
Bates’ Earthy Granddad: It’s fine. But don’t act like you’re going to actually be our friends; we know you think you’re fancier than that. Bye!
Look, he was blunt, but he wasn’t wrong. It certainly feels like Mags is a real “my way or the highway” kinda gal. There’s nothing WRONG with that, but she probably shouldn’t expect everyone to want to be friends with her just because WE know she’s the protagonist! And speaking of people who might not like each other: later on, Thorny’s mom arrives at the house for a visit. How do we know it’s Thorny’s mom, you ask? Because she’s got the same stern forehead, of course. Also in attendance is his very fancy sister, Wannabe Caroline Bingley, her giant skirts, and her horrible personality.
Wannabe Caroline Bingley: Here’s the deal: you’re poor, your house is tiny, and this whole place is bumming me out. You don’t even have a piano!
Mags: Yikes! Well there are concerts in town, right?
Wannabe Caroline Bingley: Yeah, duh, but they’re crowded with riffraff. But don’t worry: this town has everything they have in London. You’ve heard of London, right?
Mags: Uh, yes. I lived there for a while with my cousin.
Wannabe Caroline Bingley:
Mags: Not to be weird, but why not just… take a day trip to London?
Wannabe Caroline Bingley: Ugh, well, mom won’t let me — can you believe it, she LIKES this smoggy monstrosity we call a town!
Thorny’s Mom: Why are you here, anyway?
Country Mom, internally probably: Well, my husband decided to prioritize his stupid values over our happiness?
Country Mom, out loud: *some vague platitude about Dad’s Jiminy Cricket moment* Anyway, my husband’s really been enjoying tutoring your son!
Thorny’s Mom: Then he’s a nerd, and like all nerds, should get stuffed in a locker. In this town, sweetie, we prioritize focusing on bettering ourselves through work. That’s why everyone thinks my son is a badass and all the girls want to lock him down.
Mags: Well not ALL the girls.
Thorny’s Mom: My son is amazing, and tbh if you were so lucky to have a kid like mine you would also never shut up about him. Anyway, if you can handle visiting our smoggy monstrosity of a house, we’ll see you next week.
Is she a little snooty? Sure. But in a world where being the best capitalist is the only way to challenge inherited wealth and status as an oppressive system, can we really blame her? Anyway, Dad heads over to visit Thorny and the boys for dinner, and Thorny’s Mom really hammers home her POV: she lives next to the mill even though it’s noisy because it reminds her of the work that they’ve done to get to where they are; her son is fancy, but didn’t start out that way; and they could all become unfancy again if they don’t continue to strive. At dinner, this sort of plodding consistency is revealed to be a family trait. One of the other guests helpfully points out that Thorny doesn’t speculate: he’d rather have a reliable product stream than gamble on a cheaper option which may not work out long term.
Country Dad: Well that makes sense to me: he’s got a lot of employees depending on him; it’s not just his risk to take!
The rest of the guests, as one: LOL who cares about workers' rights or job safety when profits are on the line?
Thorny: Look, let me put this in a way even you can understand, fellow businessmen: if I make my factories safer, and my workers happier, they’ll work for me longer.
Country Dad: Yeah, and it’s the right thing to do!
Thorny: Don’t go thinking I’m a good person: I only care about good business sense.
Back at home, Country Mom is mad that Country Dad has deigned to go out and find some friends, and Dixon is pissed at Country Dad for uprooting everyone to the smoggy end of nowhere. Mags isn’t about to put up with anyone talking smack about Country Dad (even if it’s true) so she gives Dixon a talking to, and then offers to help out around the house. But first, she decides to bite the bullet and go visit New Friend.
Mags: Hey so look, sorry it took so long for me to stop by, but I thought if I brought food over I’d offend you, and if I didn’t bring anything that would be worse, and I got into a politeness spiral.
New Friend: Dude, we can get offended about anything here, you’re fine.
Mags: I feel like I’ve been here for a while and I still keep screwing up — how long will it take for me to sort myself out?
New Friend: Oh, at least a few years for you.
After a wee chuckle at Mags’ expense, New Friend starts coughing. She claims it’s just a cold, but let’s be real: I’ve seen my share of period dramas, and I know where this is heading:
Before Mags can get too worried about THAT, Bates’ Earthy Granddad comes home.
Bates’ Earthy Granddad: Oh, it’s you. My daughter said you’d probably ignore my snarky attitude and come visit.
New Friend: How was the meeting?
Bates’ Earthy Granddad, silently to his kid: Really? You expect me to say anything in front of her?
Mags: Oh, you can say whatever you want, I don’t have any friends to tell your secrets to anyway.
Bates’ Earthy Granddad: Ok, fine, but only because that was so pathetic it’s bumming me out. But you can see why I’m worried — your dad keeps going over the ol’ Thorny’s house for dinner.
Mags: Ugh, only because he’s Thorny’s teacher: I disavow that creep.
New Friend: How’s our sick neighbor?
Bates’ Earthy Granddad: Healthy enough to get involved in our collective action when the time comes. Separately, your dad teaches classes at the local lecture hall on Sundays, right?
Mags: Yup!
Me: Wait, hang on, is this a UNION SERIES?
Later, Thorny tells his stern mama that he’s leaving for dinner at Country Family’s house. She’s about as excited as you’d expect.
Thorny’s Mom:
Thorny: Anyway, I’ll be back for a few minutes this afternoon to get dressed up, but will be home late.
Thorny’s Mom: Uh, dressing up? For whomst?
Thorny: Look, Country Dad is a gentleman, and Mags is pretty smart and cool.
Thorny’s Mom:
Thorny: Don’t be like that; she doesn’t like me anyway!
Thorny’s Mom: Well that makes me like her even less; anyone who’s not into my baby boy has criminally bad taste!
Later, at the house, one wonders if young Thorny is perhaps regretting his choice to get all dolled up for tea, because Mags has legit fallen asleep in the middle of his conversation with Country Dad. And since Thorny doesn’t know it’s because she’s spent the day doing chores for the first time in her life, he’s rightly a little peeved. Country Mom doesn’t make the situation better when she finds out that Thorny complemented their redecorated drawing room.
Country Mom: Oh, thanks: it’s the best we could do up here; it almost looks like our place back home.
Thorny, eyes a-twinkle: Well I’m glad to hear we’re almost as good here.
Country Mom: I know you love this city, and yes, it’s super exciting and people work very hard.
Thorny: Well, yeah: I’d much rather be working hard up here than lounging around like you southerners.
Mags: Ok, first of all, we work. And TBH, it might be better to “lounge” than to work yourself into the grave like your employees do! And all to make cotton, which no one wants to wear anyway!
Thorny: Woah, hold your fire! You don’t know anything about this area, and you’re assuming I’m just like all the rest of the bosses. I’m not!
Mags: Well you sure seem like you are! And anyway, you wouldn’t know what it’s like for the workers because you’ve been blessed with privilege they don’t have!
Thorny:
My dad died horrifically when I was 19. I’ve been running my family ever since. My only blessing is to have a badass mom who taught me to be careful with my money so I could slowly save up to get to where we are today. All my fanciness is built on hard work and scrimping. Anyway, I should leave since obviously I just annoy you; but maybe if we could learn a bit more about each other we’d be able to get along? Shake on it?
Mags:
Thorny, perturbed, leaves. What’s the big deal? Well apparently, everyone shakes hands up here, so while Mags with her southern sensibility thought the offer was unseemly, she basically just snatched the olive branch out of his hand, broke it in half, and lit it on fire.
Mags: I’m so sorry Dad — I wish I could pick this stuff up easier, but I’m so exhausted! I spent all day washing curtains specifically for Thorny’s visit, and I didn’t know about this handshake business! A gentleman in London would never try to shake a woman’s hand!
Country Mom: AND he told us that horrible story about his dad, which would never happen at home!
Country Dad: It’s worse than you think: his father died by suicide after he lost money speculating. Thorny had to work for years to pay off the debts.
Mags: Welp. I really stepped in it. I’m so sorry, I’m just gonna go to bed.
Did you think that was awkward? Because it’s about to get worse: the next day, Mags attends a meeting of all the mill workers attempting to organize, and on the way in, makes HEAVY eye contact with Thorny, who’s watching the proceedings from afar with the rest of the local mill owners. And lest you think being on opposite sides of a picket line was enough star-crossing for these two future lovebirds, Thorny doubles down, yelling at one of his fellow owners for the man’s intention to give in to the workers' demands (apparently, despite not being part of the strike, Thorny has a keen understanding of the value of collective bargaining). It seems unlikely that he’s gonna budge, and TBH I doubt the workers will either after hearing a rousing speech from Bates’ Earthy Granddad.
Bates’ Earthy Granddad: Here’s the thing: we’re working a lot. But I think we all know that the bosses are going to try and argue that they can’t afford to keep paying us a living wage due to rising costs. All the bosses have different rules, and if we quit, scabs will just take our jobs. So we need to work together. We need to share information. If we decided on a fair wage and none of us will work for less, we will win!
The Opposition: Look, I get it, I do. But you only have three mouths to feed: I have a sick wife and a ton of young kids, none of whom are old enough to work yet. I can’t live on the amount we’d get as strike pay from the union. My kids will literally starve.
Bates’ Earthy Granddad: I’m not saying we’re going to strike today. I’m just saying that when the time comes we need to be ready, and we need to stick together.
Everyone applauds, but I’m not sure The Opposition is convinced (and frankly, I’m not sure he should be: Bates’ Earthy Granddad didn’t really put forth any solutions to the starving children issue). After the meeting, Country Dad drops some real talk on Mags on the way home.
Country Dad: I know you and Country Mom feel like I messed up by moving us here. I know it, and I get it. But I hope you’ll understand that the folks up here are just like the people back home — they just have a different vibe.
Just to prove it, they run into Thorny at the worst possible moment. See, The Opposition has just stopped by to try and get his job at Thorny’s mill back in exchange for info on the strike (because yes, The Opposition is the very same guy who got his ass kicked by Thorny for smoking earlier in the episode). Thorny, sticking to his principles, kicks The Opposition to the curb just in time for Mags and Dad to walk by.
Country Dad: Dude, couldn’t you be a little more chill?
Thorny: Seriously? Don’t try to tell me what to do!
Mags: LOL weren’t you just saying they have a different vibe? There’s your proof! Let’s go home, I hate it here!
Thorny, internally:
Well, not off to a classically good start there, are we? Is Thorny ever going to be able to articulate his thoughts and feelings in a way that Mags will be able to understand? Forget about Mags, will Thorny be able to convince US that he’s one of the good guys? Will anyone ever cut Mags a break for being bad at reading social cues? Only one way to find out: by watching episode 2!
