After the death of Warden Jackson, during a riot between Franky's faction, and Jacs', Bea Smith is the prime suspect, as her grief-filled husband drives himself to find her murderer, breaking rules and using his position of authority to threaten the inmates, leading to a tense situation with Doreen. Meanwhile, with Jackson gone, Vera has trouble taking over her job, whilst Erica Davidson manipulates events to ensure she gets her old job. All the while, Bea struggles with her situation, and her husband's controlling, all the time protesting her own innocence, and trying to survive
After the bold, theatrically clean-cut nature of the previous episode, in which we are introduced to Bea, and larger than life icons like Nicole Da Silva's brilliant Franky Doyle, and the menacing "Jacs" Holt, "Fly Me Away" is a far more realistic take on things. Events are less operatic, and less conventional in the way in which they happen.. The emotional stakes are deepened considerably, whilst the characters we met in passing in the first episode lose their ambiguity, and begin to show their true colours, and are gradually separated into the more distinctly good, or evil boundaries. Manipulative, cut-throat politician Erica; drug-addled, absentee mother Tony; the driven, authoritarian Jackson; and, of course, Bea's abusive, cold-hearted husband, who becomes far scarier in this episode. All show their evils, in diverse, and disturbing manners, in a far less electrifying fashion, than the Franky/Jacs tension in episode 1, but it is all the more realistic, especially given the nature of the suffering which they inflict on the tragically flawed, yet still good at heart characters. Vera is far too nice underneath, for the job of Warder, leaving herself easily open an easy target for Erica's head games. Affection-starved Doreen, the surrogate mother of Tony's daughter, after her own child died stillborn is saddening to watch, and Bea herself, makes the important journey from cypher to idealist. Rather than simply being the generic protagonist with a terrible back-story, this episode introduces us to Bea Smith as a strong, capable and likable human being, trapped in an awful situation after being driven up against a wall by her husband. In other words, the roots of Bea, the survivor, the icon, and the heroine, are beginning to grow.
Whereas episode 1 was undeniably Bea's story, episode 2 focuses mainly on Doreen, a deeply tragic character, brilliantly acted by Shareena Clanton. Clanton conveys the role's guilt, her sorrow, and her desire to love again, after her terrible accident. She delivers a heart-rending monologue, and the triangle between herself, Tony, and Tony's young daughter forms the heart of this episode.
The other major new character we meet is Leeanna Walsman's Erica Davidson. Davidson plays on Vera, and uses her passivity as a stepping stone, to attain her position of power as Governess of Wentworth. There is far more prison politics in this episode, as we spend more time with the prison staff themselves. After a blink-and-you'll miss her appearance in the previous episode, Walsman's performance is sharp and clever, as we're introduced to one of the show's most dangerous antagonists yet; the ruthless politician-predatory, unscrupulous and opportunistic. One of the interesting moral points to note, though, is that of the four of the named villains I've previously referred to as coming to their fore in this episode, only one of them is actually an inmate.
In terms of the iconic characters, though, there is very little of Franky, and virtually no Jacs at all. Yet, both have a massive presence as soon as they appear, teasing us with their comparative restraint. All this, in spite of the fact that neither have any relevance to an episode which isn't about either of their characters. Nicole Da Silva shines through nonetheless in her scenes, displaying a bantering sexual chemistry with the totally in-control Erica adeptly, and she even shows her skills with a bit of ad-libbing. ("What do you think?" she adds, slapping a surprised actress beside her at the end of one of her few scenes.)
But, most importantly of all, the character of Wentworth Prison itself is beginning to shape up, with a strong sense of this environment. The stark pale blues reduce everything to a lifelessly drab colourlessness, as well as muting the blues of the uniforms themselves. We're really beginning to feel the horror of these characters trapped in here, both the inexplicably likable characters, and the irredeemably scummy, who adapt to the world of Wentworth. Yet, all are trapped in a locale where the boundaries are constantly being expanded and crossed, tensions are building to boiling point, and where the polite rules of normal society have been totally left behind, in their place, a drab survivalist instinct among some, and repressed anger in the others. Jackson uses his power to threaten Doreen, and to cause emotional havoc with one of Wentworth's most troubled inmates; Jacs Holt hovers over everything, totally at home, able to mould the truth, and – maybe literally – get away with murder, as the one person you don't dare cross. And, all the while, Bea is trying to keep her head down, and hold onto the one thing she loves; her daughter. Erica uses the chaos of Megs' death, and the heady internal conflict of egos, as part of a grand power play for her own glory, and only poor, lovely Vera seems to want the best for everyone, and she is hopelessly trampled underfoot by Erica's machinations. She's also becoming one of the most likable characters, with a cute, understated performance from Kate Atkinson.
In all, the lines are rapidly being drawn, as alliances are made, and so are enemies. With this episode, "Wentworth" evolves beyond being simply a prison drama, or a lesbian drama, or even a soap opera. It's finally found its' place as itself, and its' own sense of identity, as everything shifts into high gear. The best, one hopes, is yet to come
After the bold, theatrically clean-cut nature of the previous episode, in which we are introduced to Bea, and larger than life icons like Nicole Da Silva's brilliant Franky Doyle, and the menacing "Jacs" Holt, "Fly Me Away" is a far more realistic take on things. Events are less operatic, and less conventional in the way in which they happen.. The emotional stakes are deepened considerably, whilst the characters we met in passing in the first episode lose their ambiguity, and begin to show their true colours, and are gradually separated into the more distinctly good, or evil boundaries. Manipulative, cut-throat politician Erica; drug-addled, absentee mother Tony; the driven, authoritarian Jackson; and, of course, Bea's abusive, cold-hearted husband, who becomes far scarier in this episode. All show their evils, in diverse, and disturbing manners, in a far less electrifying fashion, than the Franky/Jacs tension in episode 1, but it is all the more realistic, especially given the nature of the suffering which they inflict on the tragically flawed, yet still good at heart characters. Vera is far too nice underneath, for the job of Warder, leaving herself easily open an easy target for Erica's head games. Affection-starved Doreen, the surrogate mother of Tony's daughter, after her own child died stillborn is saddening to watch, and Bea herself, makes the important journey from cypher to idealist. Rather than simply being the generic protagonist with a terrible back-story, this episode introduces us to Bea Smith as a strong, capable and likable human being, trapped in an awful situation after being driven up against a wall by her husband. In other words, the roots of Bea, the survivor, the icon, and the heroine, are beginning to grow.
Whereas episode 1 was undeniably Bea's story, episode 2 focuses mainly on Doreen, a deeply tragic character, brilliantly acted by Shareena Clanton. Clanton conveys the role's guilt, her sorrow, and her desire to love again, after her terrible accident. She delivers a heart-rending monologue, and the triangle between herself, Tony, and Tony's young daughter forms the heart of this episode.
The other major new character we meet is Leeanna Walsman's Erica Davidson. Davidson plays on Vera, and uses her passivity as a stepping stone, to attain her position of power as Governess of Wentworth. There is far more prison politics in this episode, as we spend more time with the prison staff themselves. After a blink-and-you'll miss her appearance in the previous episode, Walsman's performance is sharp and clever, as we're introduced to one of the show's most dangerous antagonists yet; the ruthless politician-predatory, unscrupulous and opportunistic. One of the interesting moral points to note, though, is that of the four of the named villains I've previously referred to as coming to their fore in this episode, only one of them is actually an inmate.
In terms of the iconic characters, though, there is very little of Franky, and virtually no Jacs at all. Yet, both have a massive presence as soon as they appear, teasing us with their comparative restraint. All this, in spite of the fact that neither have any relevance to an episode which isn't about either of their characters. Nicole Da Silva shines through nonetheless in her scenes, displaying a bantering sexual chemistry with the totally in-control Erica adeptly, and she even shows her skills with a bit of ad-libbing. ("What do you think?" she adds, slapping a surprised actress beside her at the end of one of her few scenes.)
But, most importantly of all, the character of Wentworth Prison itself is beginning to shape up, with a strong sense of this environment. The stark pale blues reduce everything to a lifelessly drab colourlessness, as well as muting the blues of the uniforms themselves. We're really beginning to feel the horror of these characters trapped in here, both the inexplicably likable characters, and the irredeemably scummy, who adapt to the world of Wentworth. Yet, all are trapped in a locale where the boundaries are constantly being expanded and crossed, tensions are building to boiling point, and where the polite rules of normal society have been totally left behind, in their place, a drab survivalist instinct among some, and repressed anger in the others. Jackson uses his power to threaten Doreen, and to cause emotional havoc with one of Wentworth's most troubled inmates; Jacs Holt hovers over everything, totally at home, able to mould the truth, and – maybe literally – get away with murder, as the one person you don't dare cross. And, all the while, Bea is trying to keep her head down, and hold onto the one thing she loves; her daughter. Erica uses the chaos of Megs' death, and the heady internal conflict of egos, as part of a grand power play for her own glory, and only poor, lovely Vera seems to want the best for everyone, and she is hopelessly trampled underfoot by Erica's machinations. She's also becoming one of the most likable characters, with a cute, understated performance from Kate Atkinson.
In all, the lines are rapidly being drawn, as alliances are made, and so are enemies. With this episode, "Wentworth" evolves beyond being simply a prison drama, or a lesbian drama, or even a soap opera. It's finally found its' place as itself, and its' own sense of identity, as everything shifts into high gear. The best, one hopes, is yet to come
