ITV Renews ‘Foyle’s War’ For Season Nine
By Patrick Munn – November 20th, 2013 @ 12:53 pm UTC
Following the successful re-tooling of the series last season, ITV has order a ninth season of their period drama Foyle’s War. The commercial broadcaster has ordered three two-hour episodes, all of which will be written by series creator Anthony Horowitz. Production on season nine is slated to commence in January, with ITV eyeing a 2015 premiere.
Crated by Anthony Horowitz, Foyle’s War originally followed Detective Chief Superintendent Foyle, who investigated criminals taking advantage of the circumstances in the UK during World War Two. The show’s eights season saw a slight re-tooling with Foyle, now a senior intelligence officer, focusing his attention on the world of espionage as he gathers secret intelligence in support of Britain’s security, defence and the Government’s foreign and economic policies. In season nine, Foyle continues in his role as a Senior Intelligence Officer for MI5, finding himself immersed in the dangerous world of espionage at a time in our country’s history when political and foreign governmental relationships were delicately balanced. The drama series is produced for ITV and Acorn Productions by Eleventh Hour Films & stars Michael Kitchen and Honeysuckle Weeks. Stuart Orme and Andy Hay are on-board to direct season nine.
“We are delighted to see the return of Foyle’s War to ITV,” said ITV’s Head of Drama Series Jane Hudson, who recommissioned the series alongside Director of Drama Steve November. “Anthony Horowitz has written three outstanding episodes and the audience are in for a real treat. This series also gives us the chance to take the shoot to one of the jewels of the North West, Liverpool.”
Executive Producer Jill Green commented: “Anthony’s masterful storytelling and fascinating untold stories combined with a compelling performance from Michael Kitchen, will guarantee another gripping series.”
While Hilary Strong, Managing Director of Acorn Productions, added: “It is the combination of great writing, exceptional acting and an extraordinary eye for detail that makes Foyle’s War one of Acorn’s most respected properties. We are thrilled to be working again with Eleventh Hour Films and ITV following the success of the last series, which continues to sell successfully around the world.”
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TV News Desk
Starz announced today that the highly anticipated new pirate drama “Black Sails” will premiere on Starz on Saturday, January 25th at 9pm ET/PT. The eight-episode first season of the authentic pirate adventure centers on the tales of Captain Flint (Toby Stephens) and his men, and takes place twenty years prior to Robert Louis Stevenson’s classic “Treasure Island.”
“Black Sails” is executive produced by Michael Bay (Transformers, Armageddon, Pearl Harbor) and his Platinum Dunes partners Brad Fuller and Andrew Form (The Purge , Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles). The series was created by showrunner and executive producer Jonathan Steinberg (creator “Jericho,” “Human Target”) and season two executive producer Robert Levine (“Touch”). Production is set to begin on the 10-episode second season at Cape Town Studios in Cape Town, South Africa in November 2013.
Flint, the most brilliant and most feared pirate captain of his day, takes on a fast-talking young addition to his crew who goes by the name John Silver (Luke Arnold). Threatened with extinction on all sides, they fight for the survival of New Providence Island, the most notorious criminal Haven of its day – a debauched paradise teeming with pirates, prostitutes, thieves and fortune seekers, a place defined by both its Enlightened ideals and its stunning brutality.
Toby Stephens (Die Another Day) is joined by Zach McGowan (“Shameless”) as rival Captain Charles Vane; Hannah New (Maleficent) as Eleanor Guthrie, a determined young woman who runs the smuggling operation on New Providence and Jessica Parker Kennedy (“The Secret Circle,” 50/50, In Time) as Max, a tortured young prostitute who sees the dark side of New Providence.
Warning: Adult Content
A Passionate Treasure
“Yes, John. It’s me.”
John ran to the hall and saw Margaret closing the door behind her. He watched her come to the top of the steps and into the parlor. After removing her wrap, he pulled her hard against him and kissed every inch of her face, trying to wipe away his own fears for her.
“I’m sorry you had to see me in that state, Margaret. I don’t have the words to explain what that man has done to me. He has torn out my insides. I couldn’t get it out of my mind that he might find a way to get to you. We now believe his is responsible for another unspeakable horror. You can’t know how, in my mind, I saw you suffering that same despicable act, while I was away. I went mad with worry and returned home before my work was done. I knew before walking in there tonight that there was proof against him. Knowing him like I thought I did, I just had to see him for myself. I walked the room, which I usually do anyway, but I wanted to watch him watching you. He watched you constantly, never taking his eyes from you. His obsession was clear. Hate is not a strong enough word, for what I felt. I can hardly believe it’s all over, I had become obsessed, myself, I think.”
John continued as he handed Margaret a brandy and paced the floor not looking at her, sipping at his own glass.” With him being mentally disturbed, I don’t know if we’ll ever find out why.”
“John, not ever feeling the weight of this entire situation, as you did, I was never really afraid. I’m sorry you endured so much pain and anguish on my behalf.”
John could not countenance Margaret’s misplaced, well intentioned apology. She was so completely and utterly blameless. Yet, somehow, he knew she’d take some absurd responsibility for driving him to his own rebellious actions.
John put down his glass, swept Margaret into his arms, and carried her to his room. Waiting through the past few days for terror to strike his life, John had exposed a savage soul living within him. His most basic, fundamental nature was driving him to brand her as his own. The gentleman was struggling to survive and do the right thing, but something much deeper and more primordial needed to stake its territory, far stronger than his great love for her.
Moonlight was streaming in through the windows, softly lighting the room with its faint glow.
He let her stand and he put his hands to her face, holding her steady for a deep probing kiss. Margaret flung her arms around his neck, meeting the intensity of John’s tongue as he searched her with fierce passion. With every measure of restraint, he softened his approach, not wanting to dominate. He wanted glorious pleasure ahead for them tonight. He had to have her.
He pulled back and looked into her eyes saying, “Margaret, God, how I love you so. I don’t care if this is the right time or not for us, but I am going to make love to you. I am going to savor you with all of my senses. I cannot wait any longer. ”
“As I can’t, John.” Margaret crooned softly as she started to unknot his cravat. She could feel his heat searing her hands.
The sensual slow ritual of disrobing the other, began to unfold, but quickly escalated. John was too anxious and she was nervous. Margaret trembled remembering the size of him, which worried her their first night.
As the final pieces of clothing found the floor, John kissed her tenderly and carried her to his bed, placing her on her back.
“You’re trembling Margaret? What is it? Tell me.”
With tears in her eyes, Margaret reluctantly confessed, “I’m worried we won’t fit together. You are very . . . well . . . and I don’t think . . .”
John leaned in and stifled her words with his lips, savoring her. “Have no concerns there. I will take it very slowly. How I love your innocence.”
Lying beside her, he soothed her with soft whispers of love and kissed her deeply while she ran her fingers through his hair and down his back. He could feel her body was tight as a bow string. He became aware of how anxious he was, which might be scaring her, after her concern of their compatibility. Responding to her needs, he gently stroked her and kissed her until her muscles relaxed and her fears turned to longing. His hands found all of her body. He softly stroked her nipples already pebbled and waiting. The smooth moistness of his tongue found the hollow of her neck and John could feel her rapid pulse beating against his lips. As he moved down to her breasts, he regarded her heavy breathing, which was matching his own. He suckled at her, pressing her nipple hard against the roof of his mouth, while his tongue worked at it. She began to writhe under his touch. John knew her body was calling for his. His hand found the moistness that lie within her womanly folds. She was exquisitely wet, ready to take him into her. John knew this beginning would be far too fast for what he wanted her to experience.
“Margaret, I must tell you that this first time will be uncomfortable for you, unlike any other time after this. I will gently expand you to except me, and it will be fast because I am about to erupt now. I will take you. I will not be making love to you because my needs are beyond my control now and won’t be what I want for both of us. But that is only for this first moment. Our lives will be forever enriched with what we will share tonight.”
“John, I don’t care that it will hurt. I want you to fill me . . . please.” Margaret said while stroking his face. “You have to believe that.”
Hearing this from Margaret’s lips, John smothered her mouth, silencing any other words she might have said. Being as gentle and thoughtful as he could, he wiped saliva from his mouth to his hand and wet his penis wanting to ease this anyway he could for her. He proceeded to guide himself into her small opening. Exerting the first small thrust, he heard Margaret inhale slowly.
“Shall I stop? I won’t be able to much longer.”
“No, don’t stop no matter what I say. I want this.”
John thrust deeper and waited while her sheath adjusted to him. He could feel her womanhood responding with contractions around him, her body was embracing him from within. Taking these first steps in small intervals, for John, the pleasure was tortuous. He drove deeper, holding back some of his length and then started the slow strokes that brought him to shuddering completion, within seconds.
Margaret heard a soft low husky sigh. His life jetted into her, seemingly without end. She felt the flow of his seed and held him tightly while he panted for breath. She knew he withheld the all of him, denying his own ultimate sensation. He made it so gentle for her, relieving her of any fear, but his strained control had cost him, momentarily.
He buried his head in her neck and laid there for a few seconds, experiencing every movement of her inner passage. “Margaret. I’ve never felt like this.” He lingered over her, savoring the scent of her aroused body and feeling her moist skin against his. John withdrew from her and rolled to his side, pulling Margaret onto his shoulder and held her tightly. He kissed her.
“We have not fulfilled our passion as one yet, but we will. You are staying all night in my bed.”
He kissed her. “Are you alright?” John whispered.
“I’m more than alright, John. I want you again. You make me feel like a woman.”
“No, I haven’t, not completely. Soon, we will both go there together.”
John went to his basin of water, washed himself, and brought back the wet cloth to the bed. Margaret reached for it and John said, “No, let me bath you.”
Margaret started to protest.
John laid her back down on the bed saying, “I will bath you.”
At John’s urging, Margaret timidly opened her thighs to him, he nudged them a bit wider. With the utmost delicacy, he washed her folds before spreading her further open with his other hand. Using his lightest touch, he washed all of her sensitive parts.
“This is an incredible pleasure for me, “John whispered reverently. Finished, he returned the cloth to the basin.
Returning to the bed, he was already aroused again. As he laid back down by her, pulling her to him, she reached down to hold his erect penis. She caressed all of his maleness and enjoyed the sound of his accelerated heartbeats.
“God, how I love you touching me like this, but I’m not so sure you should be doing that Margaret, not now anyway. Are you not a bit tender? You are slightly swollen.”
“I just want to know you, John. You have torn down walls I had built around myself. I don’t want this night to end. Let me hold you.” Margaret caressed and stroked John.
John nestled her closer and allowed himself to be lost in her unhindered innocence, but that lasted a very short time.
Before she knew what happened, Margaret felt a delicate suckling at her breast. John’s musky scent filled the air.
“Ummm . . .” John hummed, not wanting to leave her nipple.
“The first time tonight . . . when you said you would take me and not make love to me . . .”
“That’s all the lovemaking that I’ve ever experienced except you were more gentle and caring and explained things to me. On the rare occasions when he wanted to have sex, and that’s the only way that I can think of it now, it was very brief. No real pleasure for me, but I thought that was how it was supposed to be, because that’s all I ever knew.”
In John’s quiet deep voice he said, “Margaret, he was not making love to you. That was just a physical release for him, like I just went through. I think a lot of married couples go through life that way, because they don’t love each other as passionately as we love each other. They don’t know how or are too modest to share their intimacy. They don’t communicate and share their needs and desires. We will never let that happen to us. I cannot be thankful enough to be the only man to make love to you, and bring you the full feeling of womanhood that you and I deserve. And it will be my first time for making love too, for I have loved no other. I have only experienced sex, like you. You and I are the same in that respect. We have waited for each other in our hearts across time and space, whether realizing it or not. I could feel you speaking out to me through your silence. It was almost like our souls were linked without our minds knowing of the connection. From the day we were parted, we have fought our way back to each other, somehow crushing the walls thrown between us. We have survived all the hardships, disappointments, the test of time, the detours, but our love held strong and pulled us through. You held me somewhere in your heart, and I loved you more than life. We’ve been waiting many years for our time and it is here . . . it is here, now.”
John lovingly returned to her breasts that were waiting him. Kissing all of her body from her neck to the back of her knees; his hand returning to her soft mound while he urged her thighs open. Margaret was circling his nipples with her finger tips, making him momentarily slow his own actions and emit a soft moan. He drew up to kiss her hard and deep and she welcomed him. While probing her mouth with his tongue, he was probing her sensitive cleft with his fingers. He started to fondle her small nub delicately but only for a few moments, heightening her sensation and expectations, loving the change in her body as she shook and the intake of her breath every time he touched her like that. Leaving her mouth, he once more looked into her eyes, before she closed them leaving unshed tears seeping out of the corners. Smooth soft caressing kisses and licks traveled her neck and collarbone and finally down to her breasts where John suckled from her, once more. Her heart was beating a soft tattoo that pulsated against his mouth as he suckled each sweet nipple. Being unexpectedly bold, Margaret slid his hand back down to her small opening. Loving her sensual impatience, John, smiling inwardly, found the dew of her entry. Heralding her readiness, he moved down and stroked her with his tongue, emboldening her response, as her hips wanted to lift off the bed, wanting more of him. Again he moistened himself and cradled within her soft trembling thighs.
Whimpering sounds were heard as Margaret anticipated his entry. Her movements became a live wire in his arms, reaching up for more of him. He smoothly thrust forward as she tried to draw him in further and deeper. “Are you sure you want all of me?” John asked barely above a whisper.
“Yes, all of you, John,” she squeaked out.
John easily lifted her buttocks, positioning her for her pleasure and his. Every thrust was going deeper and deeper. Margaret’s body was accepting the all of him. She was holding on tightly to John’s upper arms. He thrust further and faster, sheathing his erection to its hilt. He was lost in the sensation of burying himself deep within her, branding her as his own. He had wanted this. This. Not just the pleasure, but the joining with her, the intimate bonding of one to the other.
By some instinct she didn’t understand, she wrapped her legs around John’s waste, not wanting to let him go. She was lifting towards him. She wanted everything he had to give.
The wonder of it caught at his heart, and he held deep in her, savoring every one of her internal contractions. He slowed it down, withdrawing slowly and pressing inward again and again.
Margaret’s moaning mirrored her own arching rhythm. John was delirious with her craving for him. She was starting to spiral below him
“John . . . I love . . .”
“Shhh . . . Margaret, you’re almost there.
John began increasing his speed and powerful thrusts. She began to claw at his back. Their souls were connecting, through the torment of the rising pleasure. He plunged deep inside and held himself completely sheathed, for a moment, so he would not spill himself into her, yet. They would share their ecstasy of this moment as one. Feeling her body starting to shake violently, John moved higher on her so each thrust and withdrawal caused the base of his penis to rub against the top of her cleft, massaging her most sensitive area.
Margaret’s wet face gazed into John’s eyes, pleading. She tried to speak but John swallowed her sound. His hair was wet with sweat from the effort of his perfect control. Her breaths came fast and shallow. John was driving deep and fast now, there was no holding back anything. Margaret closed her eyes as she was being drawn higher and higher into a celestial world. She was moaning his name. Suddenly all of her nerve endings and muscles collided into a burst of release.
In a gush of air, John loudly whispered Margaret’s name as he writhed against her, milked dry by the rhythmic muscle contractions of her sweet sheath, bringing them both to dazzling bliss. Burying himself deep, John convulsed and then lay still within her. He embraced her shuddering descent and held her close through her sounds of pleasure; he wanted to be part of her continuing orgasm. His intentional movements against her womanhood sustained her spasms, which kept him aroused. Watching her discover what she was capable of experiencing, enraptured him. He knew they had found the euphoria he had sought for them, their oneness was beyond belief. Incredible bliss for him, as he thrilled to her continued descent for many moments until she was finally exhausted and lay breathless, but one stroke would continue her journey, he knew.
As he hesitatingly withdrew, John regarded her for several moments, marveling at Margaret on his bed in the moonlight. His woman . . . her eyes were closed, she was wet from his sweat, her nipples were pebbled, her hands were just starting to unclench, her breasts were heaving, her legs were still quaking. He would never forget the sight of her at that moment. She was the epitome of the visions his manhood sought. He was all man and she was all woman. And they were one.
John rolled to her side enabling them both the ability to pull air into their lungs. The overwhelming joy brought tears of happiness again to Margaret.
Margaret sobbed to him,” It’s too . . . there’s not a big enough word . . . to tell how you make me feel.”
John faced towards her, “It will be forever like this for us, love.”
John rose up to look into her face. “Was it all you had hoped for, Margaret?
“John, There was never any hope for anything like this. It didn’t exist in my world until now. I felt like I was floating away, being drawn to an ethereal plane in the dark sky. The entire experience shatters the sanity from the tormented pleasure of the buildup, breaking through the barrier of relief, and then gently floats you back to earth with all its tremors and spasms and shudders until you are completely spent.”
“Margaret, you might be interested in knowing that I can take you to your ethereal plane over and over, until you faint, where I cannot. I need rest stops along the way. Care to try?” John smiled into the dark, thinking . . . maybe someday.
“I do not have enough air for such another trip, just now.”
“Yes, I know. That’s what would cause you to faint and wouldn’t that be lovely?”
“How was I, for you, John?”
Pausing, finding words that only began to say how he felt, “There are no words. It was far more than I imagined . . . the sweet anticipation . . . the sensual reciprocation, the nurturing of each other. With you beneath me, they were the loveliest moments of my life. I felt our souls touch. It was so much more than the physical release as I’ve know before. I cannot explain the depth of love that filled me when we were united as one. You are mine and always will be. I felt like I wanted to bury myself in you and crush you to me so that you are part of me. Margaret, whatever doubts you have had about yourself, consider them vanquished because under all that lady is a real woman that I want for the rest of my life, as I knew you would be.
Margaret started to weep quietly at John’s beautiful words. He pulled her close, nestling his mouth in her hair and kissing her, while lightly stroking her smooth skin. She was his to possess and protect.
They cuddled close and slept, waking twice more over the hours to enjoy each other’s passionate embraces. John knew he was one step away from the top of his ladder, his life, his world. When she married him, he would meet the pinnacle of his life.
Henry William Dalgliesh Cavill
May 5, 1983 in Jersey, Channel Islands, UK
Chapter Four – A Bathroom from Paradise
Margaret’s sweet voice managed to shake John out of his stupor; he directed an inquiring gaze at her. She didn’t say anything, just reached out a hand, which he grabbed into his own.
“My love,” John whispered, kneeling in front of her, “I need you to be brave, for something extraordinary seems to have befallen us.”
Margaret touched her beloved’s face with a trembling hand.
“I know, my love, Marjorie just explained it to me. John, we cannot really grasp what is going on but we can assess what we are planning to do about it. Do you not think this is a golden opportunity for us to figure out how we can turn this to our advantage? If, by some miracle or other, we should return to our own century, we can use everything we learn here to better people’s circumstances. John, is this not exciting!”
For a split second, John eyed his Margaret with an incredulous stare, but soon he was grinning mischievously.
“Miss Hale, you do not cease to astonish me! Is this how we are to deal with each other from now on? I am trying to put your mind at ease yet you already have found the silver lining to the storm cloud.”
“Oh, John …”
They kissed, completely oblivious of their surroundings.
Marjorie and Jowan smiled and Betty whispered, “They are so in love, aren’t they?”
It took the two young people a while to realise they weren’t exactly alone in the room but eventually, the suppressed giggles of Marjorie got Margaret’s attention and she freed herself from John’s arms.
“Don’t mind us, people!” Jowan chuckled, “We too were once young!”
“Erm … forgive us, please, we did not mean any offense here,” John replied, his face beet red. Margaret hid her face against his shoulder but she was softly giggling.
“Well,” Betty said matter-of-factly, “let’s get practical, shall we? I’m guessing our two travellers must be very weary and hungry. Shall we show them to their room, Marjorie? Jowan, maybe you could order us some curry, because I don’t really feel like cooking tonight.”
Margaret suddenly felt enormously relieved and thankful. This day just did not seem to end and she was indeed extremely tired and ravenous. She eagerly followed Marjorie while John, who was waiting for Betty to show him his own room, remained behind.
“Dear, oh dear,” Betty sighed, “I realise there are a lot of problems I hadn’t the slightest idea would turn up here. Mr Thornton, I’m afraid we only have one guest room.”
“That is quite alright, Ma’am. I’ll sleep here in the parlour. The couch seems very comfortable.”
“Well, erm … you know, love – sorry, Mr Thornton – today’s society does not frown anymore upon a couple when they stay the night in the same room … without being … lawfully wedded.”
John’s jaw literally dropped in stupefaction. Then, a few seconds later, his face turned white with furious indignation.
“Madam, if you are implying I should share a bed with my betrothed before we exchange our marriage vowsl, then you do offend me most seriously! My feelings for Miss Hale are of the deepest respect and the most sincere integrity!”
Poor Betty threw her hands up in defence from those piercing blue eyes.
“All right, all right, I understand but I’m afraid you’re in for some big surprises, my boy! Erm, sorry, Mr Thornton.”
Inexplicably, Betty found herself unable to be informal with this man who radiated a deeply rooted authority. By now, she’d recognized all the characteristics of the charismatic mill owner from “North & South”, both from the novel, which she’d read in her teens, and from the BBC miniseries, which she’d loved and still did. This John Thornton – for it must be the man himself – was as strong as the actor Richard Armitage portrayed him.
Then, totally out of the blue, the other, more vulnerable side showed. The blue eyes softened, the stiff shoulders relaxed and the scowl on his face dissolved into a shy but immensely sweet smile. Betty’s motherly heart melted on the spot.
“Please, forgive me, Ma’am. I was acting under enormous pressure and let myself be carried away by my insufferable temper. It will not happen again, I give you my word.”
“All forgiven, Mr Thornton. Come with me, I’ll show you the bathroom.
The bathroom … neither John nor Margaret had ever seen such a lovely place! It was tiled from top to bottom in soft grey and white and the tub, washbasin and the rest of the utensils were in shiny white porcelain. They were blocking the entrance so Marjorie cleared her throat before she tried to slip past them.
“Here are some towels, and you’ll find soap and shampoo in this cupboard. You can alter the water’s temperature with this mixer tap while the other one is for switching between tap and shower head.”
She gave the tap a turn and the tub began filling. Looking back at John and Margaret, she startled when she noticed their bewildered stares.
“Oh, of course! You didn’t have taps and plumbing back in 1852, I forgot.”
After that obvious remark, she left the two alone.
Margaret stepped into the gorgeous bathroom and reached out a hand at the strong jet of water spurting from the wall.
“John, it’s amazing … the water is blissfully warm …”
She opened the cupboard Marjorie indicated and saw a multitude of brightly coloured bottles and jars lined up like little soldiers, one of them reading ‘Lavender Bubble Experience’. Upon opening it, a delicious scent of the familiar Victorian herb caressed her nostrils. Instinctively, Margaret knew how to use it and immediately the bath tub filled with a cascade of lavender scented foam.
“Oh, John, isn’t this exquisite?” she exclaimed and whirled around to face him.
John seemed to wake up from some dream and had to clear his throat before being able to speak.
“Yes … yes, it is, my love …”
“Come and see the room!” Margaret said cheerfully, grabbed his hand and pulled him to it.
Another vision of loveliness opened before John’s stunned gaze which was immediately drawn to the huge king size futon bed in the room’s corner. Only one bed, he noticed, still numbed by the plethora of new and exciting impressions that had been showering him for hours.
“Margaret, I will sleep on the parlour couch. I am content with you taking the room for you need a good night’s sleep, my love. I will retire so that you can perform your ablutions undisturbed.”
Shyly, Margaret placed her hands against his shoulders and looked up into his face with pleading eyes.
“John … by some miracle, we seemed to have reached a new and exciting era, so different from our own, that it simply boggles the mind. I think we must explore it to the full, my love.”
By Patrick Munn – November 6th, 2013 @ 06:22 pm UTC
Channel 4 has renewed their hit period drama series The Mill for a second season of 6 episodes, slated to air in 2014.
Based on the real life story of workers employed at the Quarry Bank Mill in Cheshire, The Mill is set during time of immense social and industrial change and tells the story of the Quarry Bank Mill, which represented the shining light of modern thinking; the brain child of the financially driven but philanthropic Greg family. Located in the heart of the countryside it is very different to the mills of nearby overcrowded Manchester. Employing hundreds of people, Quarry Bank recruited children as young as nine as unpaid apprentices from orphanages and workhouses; migrants from as far afield as London, Ireland, Scotland and Norfolk flocked to Quarry Bank with its purpose-built village, school, church and surgery. The drama is produced by Darlow Smithson Productions and features a cast which includes Matthew McNulty (The Paradise), Ciaran Griffiths (The Bill), Kerrie Hayes (Good Cop), newcomer Conner Chapman and Kevin McNally (Pirates of The Caribbean).
The renewal comes after the series’ strong ratings performance. The first episode was watched by a consolidated audience of 3.8 million viewers, with the first season going on to average 3.2 million viewers. The show’s second season, which is set to enter production next February, will cover the period between 1838 -1842 and focus on a time of great political change following the Poor Act Amendment of 1834 which made a distinction between “deserving” and “undeserving” poor. This is the time of the great chartist rallies and the birth of modern democracy with the movement for the right for working class people to vote sweeping across the country. John Fay will return to lead the writing team on the second season.
“The Mill is that rare thing – a period drama that resonates with 21st century life”, said Channel 4′s Julia Harrington. ”It is a massive pleasure to bring it back. Series two is the next chapter in the life of Esther Price, our troublemaking mill girl drawn from the Quarry Bank archives.”
While Emily Roe, Creative Director at Darlow Smithson Productions, added: “We are delighted that Channel 4 has decided to recommission The Mill. It was a passion project for DSP from the start and we are enormously grateful that Channel 4 had the vision and courage to back it. The collaboration of the history and drama departments has been inspiring. We are really excited about the rich vein of social history we are tapping into for series two.”
The year is 1952. Personally, I found this a very interesting film in typical British style and intellect. In the US, it is only now found in streaming form from Netflix, but it is worth the wait or purchase. Matthew Rhys is excellent in this.
Soon after meeting his doppelgänger, schoolteacher John Standing is duped into taking the man’s place at the head of an aristocratic but troubled family. As Standing grows into his new identity, he learns that his lookalike has sinister intentions.
Matthew Rhys, Eileen Atkins, Alice Orr-Ewing, Andrew Scott, Sheridan Smith, Jodhi May, Eloise Webb, Sylvie Testud, Anton Lesser, Pip Torrens, Phoebe Nicholls
Mystery, Psychological Thrillers, Dramas Based on Classic Literature, Drama
By Patrick Munn -
ITV is returning to the well trodden ground of the period drama for their next scripted series. The commercial broadcaster has handed a six episode straight-to-series order to Grantchester, a drama from Shine’s Lovely Day set in the 1950s which is based on the James Runcie novel Sidney Chambers and the Shadow of Death.
Adapted by Daisy Coulam, Grantchester is set against the backdrop of the real hamlet of Grantchester and follows Sidney Chambers, a charismatic, charming clergyman who turns investigative vicar when one of his parishioners dies in suspicious circumstances.His partner in crime is over-worked Police Inspector, Geordie Keating. Geordie speaks plainly and his down to earth approach to policing complements Sidney’s more gentle technique of coaxing information from witnesses and suspects. Their unlikely partnership becomes a true friendship as each offers a different insight into the crimes they begin to unravel. Lovely Day is producing the six episode series with Diederick Santer, Managing Director and founder of Lovely Day, serving as the executive producer. Casting for the drama is currently underway, with production slated to commence March 2014 in London, Cambridge and Grantchester.
“Grantchester is an exciting commission for ITV Drama and we’re delighted to be working with Diederick Santer,” said ITV’s Director of Drama Steve November, who, alongside ITV’s Drama Controller Victoria Fea, commissioned the series. “Daisy Coulam’s scripts are vivid and beautifully written with some wonderful characters at the heart of the stories. There’s an emotional truth and gravity to this series which makes it a very compelling drama.”
While Executive Producer Diederick Santer added: “Grantchester is a real labour of love for me and Lovely Day. Sidney is a charming, but complex character, a man of faith burdened by his past despite a distinguished wartime record, he’s funny, dashing and inquisitive. He loves being a parish priest in the exquisite village of Grantchester, but somehow it’s not enough and he still finds time to fall in and out of love and solve crimes. James Runcie has created this brilliant character and this glorious world, which Daisy Coulam is now bringing to the screen in her wonderful and lavish scripts, and I can’t wait for ITV’s audience to get to know him too.”