12:07 PM

Mildred Pierce

Posted by Elizabeth |


In the United States, HBO dominates the miniseries category. From Angels in America to Band of Brothers, from John Adams to Temple Grandin, award seasons have gotten a tad dull. HBO always wins. So, to be fully informed viewers, and mainly because of the draw of the incredible, “I want to be her when I grow up” Kate Winslet, we watched the HBO mini-series of the year: Mildred Pierce.

From the opening montage of Mildred’s fabulous 1930s kitchen, Mildred Pierce is a period feast for the eyes. In other words, it’s really pretty, and you should expect to see Elizabeth in depression-era house frocks from now on. Also expect Rebecca to be demanding pies from every visitor. But of course we expect that from HBO—they’re masters of setting and ambiance.

And as you’d also expect from an HBO miniseries, the acting is top notch. These are the people that got Sean Bean for Game of Thrones and Paul Giamatti for John Adams. Because they’re so successful, HBO can get the cream of the acting crop—especially when even a minor, bland supporting role will garner you an Emmy nomination (we’re looking at you Melissa Leo!).  

But having said all of this, we can honestly say that we hated Mildred Pierce. The screenplay fails its high production values, the pacing fails its actors, and the story fails its viewers. Of course, much of this can be blamed on the original novel. HBO’s Mildred Pierce is adapted slavishly close to the novel. Watching it, you get the feeling that that this is a passion project for its writers and producers. As such, they were doggedly faithful to the source material and forgot to give the miniseries a life of its own.

On a personal note (spoilers ahead. Although we’d strongly encourage you not to see it so—continue at your own risk), the ending sucks. Or rather, we’ve seen Mildred struggle for five hours to start her own business, navigate three unworthy lovers, and raise the daughter from hell. Then she just sacrifices it all for that bitchy daughter of hers that we’ve spent the past five hours hoping would die. Mildred Pierce tries to be a harrowing tale about obsessive love that destroys a hardworking mother. Instead, it’s five hours of people being unhappy and not in a particularly interesting way.

And maybe it’s the fault of the novel, but the plot twists were amazingly unbelievable. Sudden deaths by pimple! Vida learns opera in nine months! Divorces overnight! God punishes women for casual sex with moustached strangers! Chicken and waffles sound great together! We’re sure this sort of melodrama worked great for the 1945 film, but we expect more realism from our media today. Or at least an explanation for death by pimple.  

Usually HBO wins when award season rolls around. But this year, we hope that Downton Abbey crushes Mildred Pierce. Just like Midred crushed Vida’s throat. #teammaggiesmith

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