My Lady Jane is now streaming on Prime Video.
Much of British history is deeply depressing. The Black Death, Henry VIII’s many dead wives (by his decree), the Wars of Religion, yadda, yadda, yadda. Who hasn’t dozed off trying to read a history textbook filled with such doom and gloom? All that doom and gloom inspired authors Cynthia Hand, Brodi Ashton, and Jodi Meadows to take history into their own hands with their revisionist YA novel, My Lady Jane. The New York Times 2017 The bestseller reimagines Lady Jane Grey’s tragic nine-day reign as a pawn of the Queen of England in a swooning fantasy romance that makes Jane an actor in her own story. Under the direction of writer/showrunner Gemma Burgess (author of the Brooklyn Girls novels), My Lady Jane translates well into an eight-episode Prime Video series that confirms, yes, that the story is a lot more fun and watchable when you take an unrepentant, tongue-in-cheek approach to its narrative.
Although the series is set in 1553, My Lady Jane wastes no time in establishing its anachronistic, irreverent tone and voice through a hand-drawn animated prologue that immediately elicits big laughs. Through some comically outrageous violence and a delightfully wicked commentary from an omniscient narrator (who will continue to appear throughout the season), we are given a brief synopsis of the real story and context for why 17-year-old Lady Jane Grey (Emily Bader) meant something to the Tudor dynasty. From there, the series takes off and establishes Grey’s plight as the powerless eldest daughter in a patriarchal society.
Feeling the financial strain of widowhood, Lady Frances Grey (Anna Chancellor) must marry off one of her three daughters so they won’t be left at the mercy of the lecherous old Duke of Leicester (Jim Broadbent). A shrewd player of social and political influence, she falls in with the equally transactional Lord Dudley, Duke of Northumberland (Rob Brydon), who seeks to marry off his eldest son for political and financial gain (among other hidden agendas that emerge throughout the series). Neither child is interested in the union, and Jane, in particular, spends the entire first episode trying to wriggle out of it. Bader quickly establishes herself as a feisty heroine who handles her role with genuine empathy, intelligence, and quick comic timing. When Jane accidentally meets her suitor, the libertine Lord Guildford Dudley (Edward Bluemel), the pair exude an instant and palpable chemistry, recalling the combustible protagonists of The Taming of the Shrew.
It must be recognized that co-showrunners Burgess and Meredith Glynn (The Boys) have the merit of emphasizing that the dynamic between Jane and Guildford is not the only driving force behind My Lady Jane. There are many layers of political machinations that arise from King Edward VI (Jordan Peters) fending off the ambitions of his half-sister Mary Tudor (Kate O’Flynn) and his chancellor, Lord Seymour (Dominic Cooper). But the story’s biggest driving force is supernatural in origin: a conflict between the Truths (normal humans) and the E∂ians (humans who transform into a specific animal). The monarchy, especially Mary, considers the E∂ians to be abominations, so a price is placed on their heads, often resulting in their death. Because of this, the E∂ians are hidden in plain sight, living as servants or paupers, and even the occasional noble are too terrified to reveal their true nature… as Jane comes to find out about Guildford.
Adding such a high-concept twist to a period drama might seem like a bridge too far, but it really cements the show’s “outside the story” approach. The Verities/E∂ians split makes the stakes much easier to follow, with the added benefit of surprising character reveals. The device also creates a plausible goal through which Jane and Guildford can bond emotionally. Initially, they agree that she will use her education to find a cure for her despised “affliction” so that she can divorce him. But as they trust each other, it becomes a reason for them to deepen their connection beyond simple attraction. Bader and Bluemel succeed perfectly in making us believe in their gradual attraction, whether they look at each other longingly or exchange verbal barbs. They are easy to root for and provide a strong, beating heart for the show.
Bader and Bluemel are supported by a fantastic cast who, as a company, never miss a beat in finding the right balance between heightened drama and smart comedy. Brydon steals the show in almost every scene he appears in, while Anna Chancellor’s unexpected May-December duet with Henry Ashton as her lovestruck lover, Lord Stan Dudley, is a masterful lesson in thirst comedy . The series clearly benefits from its predominantly female writers room, who do not hesitate to adopt a more ribald and adult presentation of the story. They perfectly capture the book’s light-hearted approach to history, while adding a bite and intelligence to their dialogue that seems deeply inspired by Rowan Atkinson’s wickedly funny Blackadder, or William Goldman’s novel The Princess Bride.
There are some pacing issues; The eight episodes of My Lady Jane are overloaded with plot and too many secondary characters. The lighthearted performances and plot-swapping bog down mid-season due to the burden of too much maintenance. For example, King Edward’s story languishes until the final episodes, making it difficult to invest in his arc. And there’s not enough cultivation of the E∂ians’ wild characters, aside from Jane’s friend Susannah (Máiréad Tyers). Overall, the “pack” of E∂ians rebelling against the crown are treated more as plot devices than well-developed characters.
The show’s other weakness is its overreliance on distracting needle drops. A My Lady Jane soundtrack composed entirely of female singers is clever on paper, and certainly in keeping with the show’s point of view – but the decision-making about when and where to use the songs is poor. There are usually too many of them. So much so that they often distract from the real emotions being expressed on screen. And there’s no cohesion in the selections, a weird mishmash of not-great punky covers with gems like Portishead’s “Glory Box” or Lez Zeppelin’s version of “Kashmir.” It’s so random that the songs often took me out of the moment and made me wonder if some of the songs were chosen for budgetary reasons – and that’s the opposite of what you want your show’s music to do.
My Lady Jane doesn’t bring much new to the increasingly crowded field of cheeky, anachronistic period pieces like Bridgerton, Dickinson and The Great. But it works very well where it is. The strong chemistry between Bader and Bluemel means the rom-com elements are firing on all cylinders – and they have a warmth that’s worth keeping an eye on. While the excellent supporting cast bring spice and humour in spades for a very fun summer watch.