If you can recall every intricate detail from season one, I am genuinely astonished. That fleeting "previously on" recap, a mere three-minute snippet, holds little meaning for newcomers, and leaves seasoned viewers like myself scratching our heads, pondering, "Was that the same character?" Last season witnessed Catherine's meteoric rise to power, defying all opposition at court, particularly Diane de Poitiers, Henri's mistress. Upon Henri's demise, Catherine banished Diane and turned to magic to secure her throne, unaware of the hefty price it exacted: the lives of those she cherished. The religious turmoil between Catholicism and Protestantism raged, and the Catholic Guises' bid to install Mary of Scots as queen fell flat. For this episode, suffice it to say, the Bourbons and Guises are bitter rivals, and Catherine now strives for religious harmony in a deeply Catholic France.
The confounding aspect of this show is not just its vast array of characters, but the fact that at least two of them have undergone a recasting. Granted, time jumps and character evolution are common, but here, they introduce these new faces without proper introduction, leaving us to deduce who they are and how they've transformed. I confess, I'd forgotten who the Guises and Bourbons were, and the show's reluctance to name them made it even more challenging. In a nutshell, the Guises embrace Catholicism, while the Bourbons adhere to Protestantism. François, the warrior, and Charles, the cardinal, head the Guises, while Antoine de Bourbon, alias "Pinky," and his brother Louis, the strategist, represent the Bourbons.
Our second season commences with Catherine's proclamation that "they" say you get the life you deserve, but she begs to differ. Life, she insists, is a relentless struggle for survival, and Catherine de' Medici is ready to do whatever it takes. I'd wager she'd excel at 'The Traitors,' but the game demands a facade of camaraderie and fealty, which Catherine simply cannot muster. Perhaps, she'd fare better as a 'Real Housewife.'
As we embark on this journey in 1572, the ominous shadow of the St. Bartholomew's Day massacre looms large. If historical spoilers are your concern, perhaps steer clear of research, but suffice it to say, the word 'massacre' is hardly a harbinger of good tidings. Yet, Montmorency, who perished in 1567, appears alive and kicking, albeit with a new face. Perhaps, we're merely toying with chronology here.
This episode boils down to Catherine clinging to power despite the end of her regency, and the Guises' desperate attempts to spark a religious war. I confess, I found this season opener jarring. It struggles to strike a balance between historical drama and comedic relief, often failing at both. Louis de Bourbon's flippant remarks fall flat, and Antoine's "Easy-peasy lemon squeezy" feels out of place in 1572. The internet traces this phrase to no earlier than 1940. This dissonance, coupled with the recast characters and the multitude of plot threads from last season, makes it feel like a conversation with a fanatic, referencing obscure details that leave you bewildered. We need a gentle reintroduction, people!
Having said all that, I remain cautiously optimistic about the remainder of this season. Sometimes, the initial spark is slow to ignite, but once it does, the momentum builds. We haven't glimpsed Elizabeth I yet, and I fervently hope Minnie Driver portrays her as a whimsical, unpredictable queen. That would indeed be a delightful twist. Furthermore, I eagerly await more scenes featuring Catherine's brood — Charles, Alexandre, Hercule, Elisabeth, and Margot. Their quarrelsome, immature antics remind me of the Gemstones on TV, and I love it. But it must be all of them, not just a select few. Imagine them all in one room, jabbing each other playfully and yelling for the others to pipe down.
As for the Guises and Bourbons, I wouldn't mind if they all met a tragic end, tumbling over a cliff like lemmings in a frenzy. They remind me of contestants on The Bachelor, where two girls feud so much they're eliminated together. Send them all tumbling over that cliff I mentioned. François, though, I'd consider keeping, for that fleeting moment of sweetness when he gave Margot a book. Yet, he also burned a church full of people, so... I'm torn.
When Margot questioned her siblings about their privileged status, merely a matter of chance birth, Elisabeth's curt "Shut up, Margot" was hilarious. Clearly, the writers were inspired by Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, as we're now inundated with trade negotiations. The Bourbons sought Jeanne d'Albret's help to broker a deal with England, but her price was Charles IX attending a Protestant service. Reluctantly, they agreed, not realizing it was the same church the Guises' mother had coerced them to burn to ignite a religious war.
The scene of François and his men barricading the church doors, with Aabis and Montmorency's surrogate daughter inside, was harrowing. The screams echoed, and we were left wondering — was Charles among them? The enigmatic forest dweller had warned Catherine that her magic would cost her all her children. Amidst my notes, I forgot his name wasn't Nostradamus but Cosimo Ruggieri. I kept calling him "Constantinople," for no one on this show utters proper names.
While I miss Old Rahima, New Rahima seems just as captivating, surrounded by her cadre of seductive spies. New Montmorency, however, is a bore, and his chemistry with Catherine is nonexistent. I pray we never see them sharing a bed again. Oh, and François — is he gay? Bi? His mother even threatened to expose his letters to blackmail him into burning that church. Imagine being coerced into such violence merely to maintain the respect of your peers. Truly, the blame lies with François.
