Escaping from an abusive relationship with her husband, Bea Smith (Danielle Cormack – Xena's Ephiny) is taken into custody in Wentworth Correctional Facility for women. However, whilst fighting to survive a psychological war within the prison's wall, Bea gets caught up in a conflict between the dangerous, but quirky Franky Doyle (Nicole Da Silva), and the prison's stone cold Matriarch "Jacs" Holt. There, when she is forced to smuggle drugs for Franky, Bea gets discovered, but refuses to betray Franky, for fear of worse things happening. However, when a full-scale battle breaks out between Franky and Jacs' factions, there will be far-reaching consequences for all involved, as Bea's chances of release get smaller and smaller, and innocent blood is spilled
"Wentworth Prison" is an Australian TV drama, which updates the cult classic, "Prisoner: Cell Block H" for modern audiences, which it does admirably. The opening episode, "No Place like Home" has some classic moments, and promises a lot more to come, as well as introducing us to our colourful cast of characters, and the relationships between them. It's an edgy, gritty piece of work, nicely down to earth, conveying a sense of environment exceptionally well, whilst never as ostentatious as the majority of American made dramas which constantly swamp our screens. It's nice to see something charismatic and different for a change. The opening scenes of Bea's "cabin fever", at entering prison for the first times are exceptionally proficient in their execution.
The majority of the focus of this episode, and indeed, I assume, the rest of the series itself, is on Bea herself, but I'm sure there's no denying, that the star of this show is Nicole Da Silva. (Already heralded by Diva magazine as a "cheeky, lesbian icon in the making")Her performance is fresh and exciting, as well as her undoubted good looks. Her conflict with Jacs is electrifying to watch, the devilish, manipulative newcomer against the older, even more dangerous Jacs, who remains largely silent throughout the first episode, conveying menace in as few words as are needed. For Bea, who has to choose one side or the other, there's only one certainty: that she's going to upset somebody, and the consequences will be unpleasant. But, without Silva, this show would lack the energy and style that it has. Her opening scene – in bed with Rah Chapman - is perfect, immediately defining her character, but as the episode goes on, we learn that she is a far more complex person than we ever envisaged. Definitely more Franky in future episodes, please. (It's also worth mentioning that another important lesbian icon, Lip Service's Ruta Gedmintas, also played a character called Franky, also incredibly well. What is it with that name, anyway?) We're introduced gradually to the other characters inside – angsty Doreen, cool Jacs, motherly Liz, as well as the prison staff themselves. Anchoring everything successfully is Catherine McClements' Meg Jackson, who wins the acting prize for this episode, with a tense, restrained, nuanced performance, as a no-nonsense governess. It's rather a shame that she's so good, especially as this is destined to be her only appearance in the entire series. Her husband, Robbie Magasiva, is far less convincing, although gets into his element as his part darkens later on. Kate Atkinson, as the nice-at-heart Vera Bennet, is perhaps the most likable character in the series, or definitely is at this point anyway, and her struggle with her job is nicely realistic.
The main heart of the episode, though, is the final confrontation between Franky and Jacs, beautifully staged and filmed, forming a dramatic crux, to a largely introductory episode. Bea is still yet to develop beyond opaque antagonist, and audience identification character, and Franky and Jacs are both larger than life, iconic characters. The rivalry between them is charged, easily the most compelling thing about the opening episode, helped amply by great performances from Nicole Da Silva and Kris McQuade. Jacs' entrance is milked for all the tension to could possibly hope for, from director Kevin Carlin, who distinguishes himself throughout, and helps to set the tone for the rest of the series to come, with tinted, blue exteriors, and an unobtrusive, honest style, that never gets bogged down in being ostentatious.
Overall, then, this is a promising introductory chapter. We meet the characters, we enter the location we're going to be trapped in for the rest of the series, and we learn Bea's backstory. The acting is of a generally high standard, the writing competent always, and occasionally shining through. The theme tune is moody, and haunting, and the visual style is sparse and individual. The ending is superb, shocking and evocative, promising, as it does, an irrevocable change for all concerned. It's a good opening, but it has all lead to this single moment, and it does not disappoint. Promising, but yet to really take off.
(I'll be posting reviews for each episode of "Wentworth", as I watch them. Read the rest, and see what you think...tell me if you agree or not. I've only just started it, and already I'm hooked.)
The majority of the focus of this episode, and indeed, I assume, the rest of the series itself, is on Bea herself, but I'm sure there's no denying, that the star of this show is Nicole Da Silva. (Already heralded by Diva magazine as a "cheeky, lesbian icon in the making")Her performance is fresh and exciting, as well as her undoubted good looks. Her conflict with Jacs is electrifying to watch, the devilish, manipulative newcomer against the older, even more dangerous Jacs, who remains largely silent throughout the first episode, conveying menace in as few words as are needed. For Bea, who has to choose one side or the other, there's only one certainty: that she's going to upset somebody, and the consequences will be unpleasant. But, without Silva, this show would lack the energy and style that it has. Her opening scene – in bed with Rah Chapman - is perfect, immediately defining her character, but as the episode goes on, we learn that she is a far more complex person than we ever envisaged. Definitely more Franky in future episodes, please. (It's also worth mentioning that another important lesbian icon, Lip Service's Ruta Gedmintas, also played a character called Franky, also incredibly well. What is it with that name, anyway?) We're introduced gradually to the other characters inside – angsty Doreen, cool Jacs, motherly Liz, as well as the prison staff themselves. Anchoring everything successfully is Catherine McClements' Meg Jackson, who wins the acting prize for this episode, with a tense, restrained, nuanced performance, as a no-nonsense governess. It's rather a shame that she's so good, especially as this is destined to be her only appearance in the entire series. Her husband, Robbie Magasiva, is far less convincing, although gets into his element as his part darkens later on. Kate Atkinson, as the nice-at-heart Vera Bennet, is perhaps the most likable character in the series, or definitely is at this point anyway, and her struggle with her job is nicely realistic.
The main heart of the episode, though, is the final confrontation between Franky and Jacs, beautifully staged and filmed, forming a dramatic crux, to a largely introductory episode. Bea is still yet to develop beyond opaque antagonist, and audience identification character, and Franky and Jacs are both larger than life, iconic characters. The rivalry between them is charged, easily the most compelling thing about the opening episode, helped amply by great performances from Nicole Da Silva and Kris McQuade. Jacs' entrance is milked for all the tension to could possibly hope for, from director Kevin Carlin, who distinguishes himself throughout, and helps to set the tone for the rest of the series to come, with tinted, blue exteriors, and an unobtrusive, honest style, that never gets bogged down in being ostentatious.
Overall, then, this is a promising introductory chapter. We meet the characters, we enter the location we're going to be trapped in for the rest of the series, and we learn Bea's backstory. The acting is of a generally high standard, the writing competent always, and occasionally shining through. The theme tune is moody, and haunting, and the visual style is sparse and individual. The ending is superb, shocking and evocative, promising, as it does, an irrevocable change for all concerned. It's a good opening, but it has all lead to this single moment, and it does not disappoint. Promising, but yet to really take off.
(I'll be posting reviews for each episode of "Wentworth", as I watch them. Read the rest, and see what you think...tell me if you agree or not. I've only just started it, and already I'm hooked.)
