Hmm, except for not finding Howarth at all pathetic, and for the fact that his hospital plea to die at Bamfylde is there-- briefly but poignantly-- I agree with all the previous posters' compliments. So what can I add?
One of the most interesting sub-plots, thus far unremarked, is the changing relationship between Powlett-Jones and the science teacher Carter. First, I daresay that in those days the place of science in the British public school curriculum was still considered rather parvenu or peripheral. It was also relatively expensive; and Bamfylde, as a lesser-ranked school with, as Herries laments, few "high fliers" among its old boys, was surviving hand-to-mouth. So a dedicated science master would need to fight and connive for the good of his department, and that is what Carter did.
Spoilers: When the aptly named Alderman Blunt, a local nouveau-riche industrialist, began taking a shrewd, potentially philanthropic interest in the school, Carter eagerly cultivated him-- not to put too fine a point on it, he sucked up to him. So Blunt wanted to initiate his largesse with a useless, pretentious, self-serving war memorial in the middle of the quad? Fine. Treat him right, Carter said, and science labs and other valuable facilities would follow.
The hot-headed Welsh veteran Powlett-Jones, however, knew that Blunt was a war profiteer whose shoddy products had caused British soldiers to suffer and die. Standing on principle, he wanted nothing to do with the man, especially when his overtures smacked of self-aggrandizement; and he dismissed Carter as a brown-nosing cynic. His opposition developed into an active campaign, thoroughly alienating Carter as well as Blunt, and forcing an administrative showdown in which he was vetoed by his beloved headmaster for the good of the school.
After this event, the enmity between Carter and Powlett-Jones festered for years. Carter maintained a stuffed-shirt military bearing to cover for the fact that, for health reasons, he could not actually fight in the war. Powlett-Jones taunted him with this fact, and eventually their animosity literally came to blows. In a dramatic scene Herries, valuing them both as two of his best teachers, had to play peacemaker and forge a wary truce between them.
When Herries' retirement approached, the rivalry between Carter and Powlett-Jones continued, now under a gentlemanly veneer, as both of them became final candidates to succeed him. Each assumed that either himself or the other would be chosen. The crucial turning point in their relationship occurred at the moment they realized that the board was rejecting both of them in favor of a smooth, icy, exotic outsider. Over months and several years to come, they would discover how much they really had in common, forming an awkward but fervent alliance as they watched this man steadily undo what both of them cherished in the school. While never forgetting that they were two very different people, they came to see themselves as complementary, even like team-mates. I will not add to the spoilers I have already committed by describing their parting, but it was very cordial and even touching.
This is just one of many inter-woven threads in this miniseries' intimate saga. Over and above entertainment, the drama also offers an eloquent witness to Americans as we deliberate over our tottering educational establishment. If PBS would only release it on video, among many other sterling programs in its archives, it should have considerably less need of quarterly fund-raising appeals.
One of the most interesting sub-plots, thus far unremarked, is the changing relationship between Powlett-Jones and the science teacher Carter. First, I daresay that in those days the place of science in the British public school curriculum was still considered rather parvenu or peripheral. It was also relatively expensive; and Bamfylde, as a lesser-ranked school with, as Herries laments, few "high fliers" among its old boys, was surviving hand-to-mouth. So a dedicated science master would need to fight and connive for the good of his department, and that is what Carter did.
Spoilers: When the aptly named Alderman Blunt, a local nouveau-riche industrialist, began taking a shrewd, potentially philanthropic interest in the school, Carter eagerly cultivated him-- not to put too fine a point on it, he sucked up to him. So Blunt wanted to initiate his largesse with a useless, pretentious, self-serving war memorial in the middle of the quad? Fine. Treat him right, Carter said, and science labs and other valuable facilities would follow.
The hot-headed Welsh veteran Powlett-Jones, however, knew that Blunt was a war profiteer whose shoddy products had caused British soldiers to suffer and die. Standing on principle, he wanted nothing to do with the man, especially when his overtures smacked of self-aggrandizement; and he dismissed Carter as a brown-nosing cynic. His opposition developed into an active campaign, thoroughly alienating Carter as well as Blunt, and forcing an administrative showdown in which he was vetoed by his beloved headmaster for the good of the school.
After this event, the enmity between Carter and Powlett-Jones festered for years. Carter maintained a stuffed-shirt military bearing to cover for the fact that, for health reasons, he could not actually fight in the war. Powlett-Jones taunted him with this fact, and eventually their animosity literally came to blows. In a dramatic scene Herries, valuing them both as two of his best teachers, had to play peacemaker and forge a wary truce between them.
When Herries' retirement approached, the rivalry between Carter and Powlett-Jones continued, now under a gentlemanly veneer, as both of them became final candidates to succeed him. Each assumed that either himself or the other would be chosen. The crucial turning point in their relationship occurred at the moment they realized that the board was rejecting both of them in favor of a smooth, icy, exotic outsider. Over months and several years to come, they would discover how much they really had in common, forming an awkward but fervent alliance as they watched this man steadily undo what both of them cherished in the school. While never forgetting that they were two very different people, they came to see themselves as complementary, even like team-mates. I will not add to the spoilers I have already committed by describing their parting, but it was very cordial and even touching.
This is just one of many inter-woven threads in this miniseries' intimate saga. Over and above entertainment, the drama also offers an eloquent witness to Americans as we deliberate over our tottering educational establishment. If PBS would only release it on video, among many other sterling programs in its archives, it should have considerably less need of quarterly fund-raising appeals.