The English: Emily Blunt drives a tale of love and revenge

Is it too soon to say that The English is one of the best drama series you will watch this year? I don’t think so; I’ve watched it twice and loved it both times, maybe even more on the second go-round. I sobbed in the final episode the first time, and howled like a snotty baby in the repeat viewing. 

This might not sound like a ringing endorsement – “it ripped my heart out, you must watch it” – but  it does speak to how the characters get under your skin, and how thoroughly absorbed you become in how the story plays out. 

On several levels The English, a six-part limited series, is deeply tragic but there is no wallowing in self-pity. Emily Blunt as Lady Cornelia Locke does weep fairly often but her expression is almost one of annoyance when she does. It’s like she’s thinking “oh dammit, not again” as she brings her hand to her face and looks down, but it’s impossible to avoid, because there is so much sadness inside her. There are times we simply need to weep, whether we like it or not.

Set in the wild country of 1890 America, Oklahoma, Kansas, Wyoming, Cornelia arrives in the middle of nowhere with a mission to find the man who killed her son. There is nothing pale, retiring or weak about her but she does soon run into a little trouble.

To her rescue comes Eli Whipp (Chaske Spencer, Banshee), Pawnee name Wounded Wolf, a sergeant and scout in the US army now mustered out. He’s on his way to claim his piece of land in Nebraska, stolen by the white man, when their paths cross. Eli didn’t come back for Cornelia, which he makes clear, but she convinces him to travel together, for a while at least.

It’s the beginning of a relationship that is so deep, so pure that you can feel it in your very core. 

The cinematography is exquisite, with sweeping panoramas of wide open spaces and skies, humans on horses often tiny and silhouetted to intensify the vastness. Closer shots are carefully framed, positioned and balanced; it’s a joy to behold. Performances are brilliant, the writing and telling of the tale are masterful, and the soaring moodiness of the soundtrack brings it all together.

The most touching moments in The English

For this narrative of an enduring love and passion that transcends the physical, I’ve picked some of the moments that touched my heart. 

1. “I cherish you”

It begins right there in the opening monologue of episode 1, titled “What You Want and What You Need” – something Eli teaches Cornelia: the difference between what you can fit on a horse and what you can’t. Cornelia’s voiceover talks about how they met and how he used the Pawnee word “Tâtačiksta “ which means “I cherish you”, and conveys a whole bigger meaning than the simple “I love you” to which we are accustomed. How it is repeated in the final episode is the undoing of me.

2. Cornelia and Eli’s conversations under starlight

Early on, Cornelia asks Eli to teach her how to follow the stars. His response is short: “No.” Much later on, he does teach her about what he sees in the stars. “If you are alone…” he says, and she replies “I will always think of you.”

3. Actually, all of their conversations

Seeing the way these two very different people get to know each other is truly beautiful. Cornelia never shies away from a question, and Eli answers them all. He has been through some things, he knows about horror and loss, and as stoic and taciturn as he is, he shares this with Cornelia. They are indeed kindred spirits.

4. The lengths they will go to for each other

When Eli is abducted for the purpose of carrying out the killing of a particularly nasty old woman who has human scalps mounted on her wall (but she has her reasons), Cornelia this time comes to his rescue. She’s already a far cry from where she was in episode 1 when Eli asks her how long she’s been in the country and how many killings she’s seen. “Can you shoot?” he asked her then. “If I have to,” she says. “Oh, you’ll have to,” says Eli. And she did.

5. The photograph

In the course of that rescue, Cornelia sustains an injury. They later meet a man called Flathead Jackson who helps them. She asks him to take a photograph of her and Eli (for reasons I won’t spoil). “There’s something I need to tell you,” she says, as they pose for the camera. “No need,” he says, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Oh, Eli,” she breathes, turning her head to look at him. That’s about when my waterworks turn on. 

While the connection between Eli and Cornelia is at the core of the series, it expands way beyond that with colourful characters, and is often extremely gruesome. They call it a revisionist Western, a sub-genre that subverts the myth and romance of the traditional by means of character development and realism to present a less simplistic view of life – and probably more realistic for it.

The English also tackles the atrocities carried out on Native Americans. The Guardian’s excellent review says: “What matters is that the dehumanisation and massacres of the Native Americans, upon whose suffering the New World was built, is not forgotten but ever present, in Eli’s story, in the charred remains of encampments, in the cruelty of old soldiers they meet, in the stories of the people they seek shelter with. It’s not the wholesale corrective some will want, but you could say the frontier is being moved.”

The heroes and villains are very clearly defined.