In “Wolf Hall,” the British historical drama adapted from Hillary Mantel’s beloved books, Thomas Cromwell (Mark Rylance) takes on many different titles. Cromwell is, essentially, a political fixer for King Henry VII (Damian Lewis), but depending on the scenario he’s in or the conversation he’s having, he’ll don whatever hat best suits his needs. When a barterer claims to be wary of working with a Lutheran, Cromwell replies, “Me? No, sir. I’m a banker.”
Back in the day, Cromwell’s loyalty to Cardinal Wolsey (Jonathan Pryce) — as well as his tenacity in serving him — earned the nickname “the butcher’s dog.” Cromwell likes that label (“I’m a good dog,” he says, a rare smile spreading across his consistently worried countenance), probably more so than the diminutive “Crom” (pronounced like “Crumb”), as Henry calls him, or any of the besmirching variations on his origins as a commoner. Despite becoming the right hand of the King and thus the second most powerful man in England, Cromwell’s enemies love to refer to him as “a blacksmith’s son.”
But Cromwell really only requires one title. He’s a lawyer. He thinks like a lawyer, he acts like a lawyer, and he lives like a lawyer. To some, this may sound like an admonishment worse than anything one of those bitter noblemen might spit at him, but I mean it mostly as a compliment. “Wolf Hall” is a richly detailed slice of historical fiction; a handsomely realized reenactment of an oft-reenacted period of civilization. But it’s also a character study, and a fantastic one at that. With Cromwell as our guide, the regularly chronicled events of 16th century England take on ample emotional weight and greater contemporary relevancy. Moreover, when it comes to appreciating the personal tribulations and public repercussions of a fateful moment in time all at once, there are few better guides than a good lawyer.
At the start of Season 2, subtitled “The Mirror and the Light,” things are changing in England. The King is the new head of the church. His quest to secure an heir and preserve his power sews division between those loyal to the pope and those loyal to Henry. What was long known to be fixed and reliable is now fluid and frightening. “The age of persuasion has ended I think,” the now-deceased Cardinal Wolsey says, appearing to Cromwell as a vision. “We’ve entered the age of coercion.” The ground is shifting under Cromwell’s feet, but no matter how much he’s able to maneuver his own fortunes to align with the changing tides, he can’t escape the rock on which he was born.
The Cromwell of “Wolf Hall,” as embodied with profound perception by Rylance,” is instilled with chronic melancholy and haunted by growing anxiety. The former feeling stems from learning at a young age to see the world as an unforgiving, arduous place. His abusive father taught him how to survive without protection, and he carries that cautious, working-class attitude with him into adulthood (along with a sizable chip on his shoulder). His mounting anxiety, however, reflects a more personal, immediate paradox. Even though Cromwell has risen in the ranks, and even though he’s done so while fiercely supporting reformation efforts, he can’t seem to facilitate enough change to please his fickle king — or alter his own fate.
Night after night, Cromwell wakes up in a state of panic. Sometimes his nightmares are tied to past regrets. (He’s still mourning the loss of Cardinal Wolsley, who he talks to like a spiritual advisor visiting from another realm.) Sometimes they’re driven by fears of what’s to come. Like many of us, Cromwell can’t reconcile the historic changes he’s living through with his own inability to control or even tolerate their impact, especially as it applies to his own life. He’s a powerful man, but he’s not the decision-maker. He’s a wealthy man, but it means little to him. He’s a smart man, but his intelligence is primarily a tool for others. It won’t protect him from a rigged game, because Cromwell is also a common man, born without noble blood, always one admonishment away from losing everything to the whims of a moody tyrant.
Sound familiar? Cromwell may be part of the king’s inner circle in a way none of us are with today’s wannabe dictators, but his proximity allows the story to play out in front of us, while his particular perspective builds a harrowing connection to it. Living through unprecedented times may seem safer when you can talk to the man with his finger on the button, but when there’s no reasoning with him, does it matter where you’re standing when the bomb goes off? Dead is dead, and Cromwell fears death so intensely because he knows, eventually, he won’t be able to talk his way out of it — a universal feeling that’s also every lawyer’s worst nightmare.
Narratively, “Wolf Hall” Season 2 picks up right after Season 1 — there’s even a bit of pointed revisionism to show what the king was up to at the time of Anne Boleyn’s execution. Henry’s pursuit of a male heir is again in focus, as are two more marriages, and Lewis’ haughty ebullience lends the king’s demands a magnitude that can be comical until it turns menacing. The planning meetings and shadowy schemes are carried out by a distinguished cast, including Timothy Spall (stepping in for the late Bernard Hill) who continues to sneer with the best of them, befitting the Duke of Norfolk’s particularly nasty disposition, while Alex Jennings takes over as Stephen Gardiner with a well-balanced turn as another political player with Cromwell in his crosshairs.
But Rylance’s portrayal, along with the parallels it invokes, are incentive enough to revive “Wolf Hall” one last time. He understands Cromwell’s positioning so innately, it’s impossible not to feel swept up in every brief joyful interlude before being thrown down again as his fortunes inevitably sour. If Season 1 chronicled Cromwell’s complicated relationship to his growing power, Season 2 sits with the loss he knows is unjust yet still feels inevitable.
You see, Cromwell is a lawyer. He lives his life dutifully serving his clients: Cardinal Wolsey and Henry VIII. He advises them, yes, but ultimately he carries out their orders. Right or wrong, innocent or guilty, he is their fiercest advocate, and while he may know whether what they’re demanding is a good idea or very much the opposite, Cromwell is just doing his job. That he’s very good at his job is a point of personal pride, but it’s also, in times when the big picture grows too bleak to ignore, a pointed blade cutting open his conscience.
After all, he may just be doing what he’s told, but he’s still the one doing it. Cromwell is a good lawyer, and like any good lawyer, he knows justice and fairness don’t always line up, no matter how hard he tries. He knows logic and reason can be tools of great power, just as he knows they often aren’t powerful enough — not when a tyrant is still in control. He’s part of a system that will eventually destroy him, along with so many more souls more innocent than his, and he knows that, too. He’s always known it. And no matter how much change he can make, it’s not enough to save him.
Hopefully, the same cannot be said for us.
Grade: A-
“Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light” premieres Sunday, March 23 at 9 p.m. ET on PBS. New episodes will be released weekly.
