Don't Look Away

To Beatrice,

When I was a kid, I loved Lemony Snicket’s novels A Series of Unfortunate Events. I loved them so much, in fact, that I have a tattoo of an eye on my left ankle (sorry mum and dad) just like Count Olaf. The whimsical nature of the books, the child-friendly take on the gothic genre, the steampunk fun, the blend of sinister and silly, even the names of the characters – Bertrand Baudelaire and Quigley Quagmire being my personal favourites – made for enjoyable, intriguing reading. I enjoyed trying to solve the mysteries of each book, and being blown away when I usually came to the wrong conclusion (I was seven, ok, leave me alone) even though the plot had been planned so intricately. I very much enjoyed the 2004 film adaptation, A Series of Unfortunate Events, but I longed to see more; the latter ten books of the franchise never made it to the big screen. So, as you can imagine, I was practically frothing at the mouth when Netflix announced they were making a television show based on the novels – all thirteen of them.

The first series, which was released last year, was brilliant. But that’s old news (even though you should watch it immediately). I’m going to review the series that came out at the end of March, which chronicled books five to nine; The Austere Academy, The Ersatz Elevator, The Vile Village, The Hostile Hospital, and the Carnivorous Carnival. Which, fortunately for me, were my favourite books as a child. In fact, The Austere Academy is one of my favourite books of all time, and THANK GOD the TV show, partially written and produced by Daniel Handler (the real Lemony Snicket) did it justice. The show in general is faithful to the books – with a couple of welcome embellishments and subplots, like Jacques Snicket and Olivia Caliban falling in love – to make it less of a children’s show and more suitable for teens and older, and any die-hard fan can find plenty to enjoy about the macabre series.

For me, one of the highlights of the TV adaptation is the sets. Seeing Prufrock Prepatory School come to life is probably the most excited I’ve ever been whilst watching television. I loved it; I loved how the uniform looked like my ugly maroon and grey uniform at Scarborough College, I loved how the buildings looked like gravestones, and I loved the school's mascot: a dead horse. Because what can't you beat? A dead horse! GENIUS. I thought it was a nice touch how everything was grey thanks to the dreary camera filter, the ultimate way of delivering the school's motto of Memento Mori – or, to those not familiar with Latin, 'remember you will die'.

Esmé and Jerome Squalor’s apartment was marvellously ostentatious; the vile village looked, well, vile; and Caligari Carnival had plenty of creepy clowns and decrepit, garish tents all over the place. My favourite set after Prufrock Prep has to be the hospital, which looked straight out of a horror film; the creepy abandoned hospital with unexplainable stains on the wall and faulty electrics. Everything in the show looks perfect, and I felt like JK Rowling must have when she saw the set of Hogwarts for the first time; like I was stepping into my imagination.

But, if you ask me, it’s the characters that make this TV show so great, and luckily each character is played by the perfect actor for the role. Kitana Turnbull was perfect as Carmelita Spats, the cake-sniffing orphan-hater who was just so adorable that you wanted to punch her in the face every time she burst into an unrhyming song and helped Count Olaf – I mean Coach Genghis – in his dastardly schemes. 

And the casting director who found Lucy Punch to play Esmé Squalor, the city’s sixth most powerful financial advisor, needs a raise, because she’s just excellent; her quiet anger towards anyone that threatens her relationship with Olaf – which was the biggest plot twist to my seven-year-old self – is the perfect blend of sinister and silly. I personally wouldn't leave the suit-wearing Jerome Squalor and a swanky apartment for a bad guy with a monobrow, but each to their own.

Admittedly I was a bit wary of Neil Patrick Harris being cast as Count Olaf. I thought no one could ever live up to Jim Carey’s movie performance, as all I can ever associate him with is Barney from How I Met Your Mother. But he’s pleasantly surprised me. He’s over-the-top, yes, but in a Count Olaf way, not a Neil Patrick Harris way, even if Olaf’s various musical numbers are clearly inserted to show off Harris’ singing talents. Harris does a great job being a pantomime villain – this is intended for children, after all – with enough of a menacing motive, to kill whoever gets in the way of seizing the Baudelaire fortune, to be just about scary. I guess money really does corrupt.

Plus, Olaf’s acting troupe is just perfect. They look so awful and ugly and hilarious; perfect embodiments of the characters from the book. My personal favourite is the henchmen with an indeterminable gender, who’s said my favourite thing of the series: “I feel morally queasy...or maybe it’s the hotdog I ate off the floor.” We’ve all been there, ma’am...I mean ‘sir’...I mean...I don’t know. It’s indeterminable: a word which here means, not able to be definitely ascertained.

K. Todd Freeman is a fabulous addition as the bumbling, coughing Mr Poe, who will literally stare Count Olaf in the face and fail to recognise him in some of the show’s funniest (or tragic, depending on how you look at it) moments. Another cast member I was wary of was Patrick Warburton as Lemony Snicket. I don’t know if it’s because the character’s name is Lemony, but I just always imagined him with a limey voice, a tragic attempt at a posh British accent from a north-American, not Warburton’s deep tones that have voiced Kronk from The Emperor’s New Groove or Joe from Family Guy. He is, however, great at sounding morose as he tells the rarely-happy tale of the Baudelaires, and I just think it’s such a wonderful touch to have Snicket wondering around in the background of the show.

And what would the show be without our heroic orphans, Violet, Klaus and Sunny? Louis Hynes and Malina Weissman need their praises sung about them as they bring out all of Klaus and Violet’s childhood genius as the reader and the inventor. They have excellent manners and strong moral compasses, which is what makes the reader root for them, and Hynes and Weissman give such strong performances as the sensible children in a world of ridiculous adults. I have high hopes for these kids’ futures as actors. 

I can't really judge the acting talents of a toddler, but Presley Smith is very well-behaved and just so cute. Look at her. Little receptionist. Aaaw.

The show has some brilliant unexpected, subtle moments of comedy. Olaf snatching the newspaper containing his obituary, titled ‘Surprisingly Low Turn-Out to Actor’s Funeral’, had me howling with laughter. The absurdity is so funny, like how one of the ‘freaks’ at the carnival qualifies for such a role just because he is ambidextrous, or the salmon sabayon served at Cafe Salmonella (which in term is a ridiculously funny name), poured through a pitcher ‘that looks like a salmon throwing up’. I’ve also always loved the mysteries to solve. I’ve been fond of anagrams ever since the list of names that could have been Violet at the hospital, and Isadora’s poetic couplets clue was just as impressive to me as an adult as it was as a child.

My prediction was one more series would be made, adapting the last four books; The Slippery Slope, The Grim Grotto, The Penultimate Peril and The End. Neil Patrick Harris has basically confirmed this for me, saying in an interview that he’s glad the series is ending with Season 3. I have to say I agree with him. If it was drawn out too long, the Baudelaire children would no longer be, well, children, and I’d rather see fewer episodes of something done well than more episodes of a great show declining – yes, I’m looking at you, Waterloo Road. I can’t wait to see how the mountaineering scenes will be shot, or the underwater adventures in The Grim Grotto. All I can ask for now is that other people come to love the show, and especially the books, as much as I do. And if you haven’t seen it, PLEASE WATCH IT. Or the vile village will come for you with pitchforks.

And remember: “The world is quiet here”

All images belong to Netflix