Booksology MY VIEWING this week was all about love: the yearning for it, the denial of it, and the heartbeating, giddy joy of it. More on that aspect later. First: Falling (Channel 4, Tuesdays), the new six-part series written by Jack Thorne, acclaimed creator of Adolescence (Media, 28 March 2025) and the recent BBC adaptation of Lord of the Flies (Media, 20 February). The story is one of faith and temptation, duty and doubt, starring Keeley Hawes as a nun who finds herself powerfully and shockingly attracted to a Roman Catholic priest, played by Paapa Essiedu.
It is unclear why a devout, mature nun, who appears to be content growing cabbages, suddenly loses her mind over a man in the very first episode, with zero encouragement, but it’s Keeley Hawes, and she’s always excellent; so I firmly suspended my disbelief.
Thorne was baptised in the Church of England, and was a choirboy in his youth, but no longer attends; so this is very much an outsider perspective of a faith that he doesn’t have. The writing still contains both truth and insight, beautifully expressed by the two leads, who are both compelling. Sticking with the tradition of Fleabag and ’90s melodrama Ballykissangel, the fascination with celibacy overrides all. It is, after all, the crux of the entire drama.
It is possible to enjoy Thorne’s work without lionising him as a socially conscious prophet. Adolescence was brilliant television, but I don’t think it had anything uniquely insightful or astute to say about teenage boys, beyond crude stereotyping. Falling is a good example of the same kind of surface-level observation: it’s beautifully shot, mostly through arches and stone doorways, and will provoke thoughts on human weakness, but probably not on the actual reality of Holy Orders.
The recent Guardian poll ranking the 100 best novels of all time may have snubbed Dame Jilly Cooper (an outrage), but at least Rivals (now streaming on Disney+) has returned for a second series. The rivals in question are two production companies, competing for a franchise during the height of the glory days of television.
We ended the last series on a cliffhanger, after the malevolently unhinged TV executive Tony, Lord Baddingham (David Tennant), had copped an unfortunate one about the head. He returns, scarred and dangerous, and so does the big hair and loud ’80s outfits.
It’s saucy, vibrant fun, played with a knowing nudge and a wink, but it’s also immensely astute about human nature. Here is vanity, ambition, jealousy, unrequited love, a requisite number of cads and bounders, plus a sweet, naïve heroine (Taggie O’Hara), who is more than equivalent to a Dorothea Brooke. Is Rutshire really all that different to Middlemarch? I think not. Dame Jilly sadly died last year, but her legacy lives on. Long live Jilly!
