By a significant margin, the saddest thing in this episode (strange in an episode ostensibly in the wake of mourning) is the out-of-nowhere reboot of Lola’s character post-marriage. She used to be the cleverest and, quietly, the least conventional of the handmaidens, and is now reduced to the bleatingly unhappy wife. Narcisse has to suggest they “broaden our erotic horizons” because she’s hesitant in bed? Wasn’t this the woman who had a boyfriend in the pilot, then had a no-strings fling with Francis? She outsmarted Catherine once. She killed a man! She’s been circumspect about Narcisse, but this prudish, oblivious Lola is coming out of nowhere
it becomes hard to get invested in these story lines when their speed is matched by a sense of the careening arbitrary in the characters. The fit Don Carlos pitches at the wedding means nothing. He was never even a two-dimensional character; that would have required another dimension. He was a dutiful prince, then a romantic who showed up at the wrong time, then he was a naughty punchline, then a living reminder of Mary’s mistake, then a moustache-twirling villain lusting for a throne, then a thwarted megalomaniac straight out of a Jem cartoon. He’s been in France for three episodes.
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