Fackham Hall Review – This Brisk, Funny Takeoff on Downton That's Pleasantly Ephemeral.
Maybe the feeling of uncertain days in the air: subsequent to a lengthy span of inactivity, the comedic send-up is enjoying a comeback. This summer observed the re-emergence of this unserious film style, which, in its finest form, skewers the grandiosity of pompously earnest genre with a flood of pitched clichés, sight gags, and ridiculously smart wordplay.
Playful eras, apparently, beget knowingly unserious, gag-packed, refreshingly shallow amusement.
A Recent Entry in This Silly Resurgence
The newest of these silly send-ups arrives as Fackham Hall, a takeoff on the British period drama that pokes fun at the highly satirizable pretensions of wealthy English costume epics. The screenplay comes from British-Irish comedian Jimmy Carr and helmed by Jim O'Hanlon, the feature has a wealth of material to work with and wastes none of it.
Opening on a ludicrous start and culminating in a preposterous conclusion, this amusing silver-spoon romp packs every one of its runtime with puns and routines running the gamut from the juvenile up to the genuinely funny.
A Pastiche of Aristocrats and Servants
In the vein of Downton, Fackham Hall presents a pastiche of very self-important rich people and overly fawning help. The narrative centers on the hapless Lord Davenport (brought to life by a wonderfully pretentious Damian Lewis) and his book-averse wife, Lady Davenport (Katherine Waterston). After losing their children in separate tragic accidents, their aspirations are pinned on finding matches for their daughters.
One daughter, Poppy (Emma Laird), has secured the aristocratic objective of a promise to marry the appropriate kinsman, Archibald (a wonderfully unctuous Tom Felton). But when she pulls out, the pressure shifts to the single elder sister, Rose (Thomasin McKenzie), described as a spinster of a woman" and who harbors dangerously modern notions regarding a woman's own mind.
Its Humor Works Best
The film achieves greater effect when sending up the suffocating social constraints placed on pre-war women – an area often mined for self-serious drama. The archetype of idealized womanhood offers the richest punching bags.
The storyline, as befitting a purposefully absurd send-up, takes a back seat to the gags. The writer keeps them arriving at a pleasantly funny rate. Included is a homicide, a bungled inquiry, and a star-crossed attraction involving the plucky pickpocket Eric Noone (Ben Radcliffe) and Rose.
Limitations and Frivolous Amusement
The entire affair is in lighthearted fun, but that very quality comes with constraints. The dialed-up absurdity characteristic of the genre may tire after a while, and the comic fuel in this instance diminishes somewhere between a skit and feature.
At a certain point, audiences could long to return to a realm of (at least a modicum of) coherence. Nevertheless, it's necessary to applaud a wholehearted devotion to the artform. If we're going to amuse ourselves to death, it's preferable to find the humor in it.
