It does not bode well that the story is set in history’s dullest era, Elizabethan England.  The opening shot is a dull matte painting which dissolves into a dull soiree with formally dressed, jaded stiffs lounging about, just the kind of lethargic gathering that — hey boobies!

I guess this is more of a ho house.  Dr. Jack — in an episode called “Ripper” — York seems particularly uncomfortable.  He is reading a Jules Verne novel in the lobby rather than taking a girl upstairs.  He is apparently a regular so is not bounced out for his impudence.  No, I said impudence.  One girl does catch his eye.  When she leaves, Jack follows.  He finds her nearby making out with another women, so naturally he watches them; as one does.  Improbably, this is not the highpoint of his evening.  A ghostly green snake-like entity bursts from the chest of the girl, and zooms down the throat of her lover.  Jack runs.

Back at his house, his fiancee demands, “You must promise me that you will never go back to that place again.”  But when he begins kissing her neck, she says, “Not until after we’re married!”  Well, which is it, baby?  If that is not bad enough, Jack is in a deep depression over a grievous error he made with a patient who died before her insurance had run out.  Like Oscar Wilde, he has become addicted to Absinthe, and is getting no action from the ladies; but for different reasons.

The next day, he does take a girl upstairs.  However, he notices a green slime around her mouth like the monster he saw earlier.  Jack recoils even though he had not previously coiled.  Wait, they were kissing, how did that slime suddenly appear on her mouth?  They begin fighting, then Jack grabs his cane in which a knife is hidden.  The woman tries to seduce him saying, “I’m old, Jack.  Older than you.  Older than London.”  She might be an ancient spirit, but boy has she not learned what to say to a man.  He stabs her in the gut just as the madam and some of her girls come in and witness the bloody attack.  The girl runs outside to the alley where she snakes into another woman.  So at least somebody’s getting some action.

Jack escapes and runs home.  As he his polishing his shillelagh, his fiancee catches him.  Awkward.  She is furious that he missed a scheduled lunch with her mother.  So his afternoon could have been even worse.  It does go downhill, though, as Police Detective Langford shows up and arrests him.

The next day, his fiancee humiliates herself by saying Jack could not have killed the woman because they were fornicating at the time of the murder.  I guess the eyewitness testimony of the five professional fornicators who saw the murder was less believable.

Well, then things get personal for Jack, then personal for his fiancee.

The production design was excellent.  The settings and costumes seemed very authentic.  The Britishness was further enhanced by Cary Elwes as Jack looking very much like Malcolm McDowell in Time after Time, and David Warner from the same film playing the Detective.  Although, thank God the cast’s teeth were not era-appropriate. ^[1]

Maybe it was those darn British accents, but the performances in this episode were just incredible.  Cary Elwes had to convey everything from ennui to insanity, and pulled it off magnificently.  Clare Sims as his fiancee was equally excellent.  Frances Fisher and David Warner are old hands and are as solid as ever.  The alien was a little hammy at times, borderline Dr. Frankenfurteresque, but not a dealbreaker.

Overall, excellent.

Notes

• [1]  Seriously, check out the trailer for They Shall Not Grow Old.
• It is goddam impossible to verbally ask Google to spell fiancee without getting a bio of Beyonce (if you just say the word, don’t phrase it as a question).