All Creatures Great & Small

ALL CREATURES GREAT & SMALL

THE COMPLETE FIRST SEASON

REVIEWED BY JESSICA VAN DESSEL

Our rating: 4 out of 5

Because of: language

Rated:

When a British veterinarian decided to take the pen name of James Herriot and write a book about his 30 years of animal doctoring in Yorkshire, England, he simply hoped “a few people would read it, and quite enjoy it.” The book turned into a whole series. The few people became millions of readers, all of whom have a deep love for Herriot’s way of finding beauty, humor and poignancy in everyday life. In 1978, the BBC began adapting the stories for television. The shows soon became as beloved as the books. The first 13 episodes cover James’ earliest days of caring for all creatures, great and small.

It’s 1937. James Herriot (Christopher Timothy) is fresh out of veterinary school. When we meet him, he’s traveling to the town of Darrowby for a job interview with Siegfried Farnon (Robert Hardy). When he arrives, Siegfried is out. No one knows when he’ll be back. While James waits, several farmers stop by and leave complicated messages, which, thanks to the near-incomprehensible Yorkshire dialect, James can barely understand. After a few hours, James falls asleep. Siegfried wakes him with an apology – he’d totally forgotten James was coming – and promptly hauls him off on a round of sick calls, where James is faced with a cow that likes to kick vets, a huge horse that likes to lean on them, and so forth. James sweats his way through. He can’t tell whether Siegfried likes what he’s seeing or not. But at the end of the day, Siegfried tells James he’s got the job, complete with bed and board in Skeldale, the big old house that serves as home and office for Siegfried and his younger brother Tristan (Peter Davison).

This first day turns out to be a pretty good indication of life at Skeldale House. Business is brisk. The patients include barns full of dairy cows, herds of beef cattle, sheep, pigs, workhorses, racehorses, cats, dogs, and on one occasion, a turtle. Siegfried has his own way of doing everything, and is by turns inspiring and exasperating. Tristan, a veterinary student, believes in having fun and doing everything as easily as possible (much to Siegfried’s disapproval). The citizens of Darrowby range from welcoming to suspicious. James meets some local characters – the innkeeper who judges you according to how well you like pigs, the deaf Irishman with a wolfhound that’ll eat anything, and Helen Alderson (Carol Drinkwater), the lovely daughter of a well-respected farmer. There’s a mutual attraction, although the general consensus is that Helen is much too good for James.

Like the books, the shows are a series of vignettes from a well-lived life, the sorts of ups and downs we all face. For example, there’s Isaac Cranford (Jack Watson), a tightfisted farmer who wants James to make a false statement on a death certificate so he can collect insurance money on a dead cow. When James refuses, Cranford threatens to ruin him. Then there’s Mrs. Pumphrey (Margaretta Scott), a wealthy widow who dotes on her “Tricki-Woo,” a Pekinese who resembles a dust mop. When James cures Tricki’s mysterious ailment (overeating) Mrs. Pumphrey throws a party in James’ honor. There are emergency calls in the middle of freezing nights, and beautiful afternoon drives through the Yorkshire dales. There are the glorious moments where everything comes clear and everything works out against the odds. There are the heartbreaking times when nothing can be done. And of course, there’s Helen. Despite competition from the aristocratic Richard Edmundson (Norman Mann) and despite disastrous “help” from Tristan, James still hopes to win her heart.

If you liked Herriot’s books, you’ll certainly enjoy these adaptations. The producers stayed pretty true to the books, not just in details but in spirit as well. There’s little to object to. Dead and injured animals are portrayed, but never graphically. Blood on the vets’ hands after operations is the extent of any gore. There are references to Tristan having numerous girlfriends, and he is seen kissing and dancing with different girls on different occasions. A married couple is shown in bed several times, but both are decorously dressed in thirties-style pajamas. The vets are occasionally seen shirtless, but somehow scrubbing up in a barn before wrestling with a pregnant cow just can’t be classed as sexual content. The main problem would be language. “D-mn,” “h-ll,” “bl--dy,” and “good G-d” are used more often than I would like. A fair amount of drinking goes on in a British sort of way: Siegfried pours everyone a nightcap and scenes take place in a pub. A couple times James and/or Tristan end up intoxicated. (It usually causes them a great deal of trouble.) There are a few references to gambling on horse races and some earthy moments (people get knocked over in manure-filled pens, a man gets a tetanus injection in the buttocks), but nothing I would classify as crude.

It seems to be a hallmark of British productions that even the bit parts are well acted. Every performance in this series is superb. Top honors go to Richard Hardy as Siegfried. I will sometimes walk around the house reciting his lines, just because I love the way he treats a sentence. Christopher Timothy embodies James’ every quality; Peter Davison makes Tristan’s impossible confidence believable. All three must have carefully trained for their parts because they’re quite convincing as veterinary surgeons. Combine this quality of acting with the excellent script, the careful attention to the details of 1930’s Yorkshire, and cinematography that captures the feel of the English countryside without making it look like a tourist brochure, and you start to believe that this isn’t a television production. These are real people, who have kindly allowed their lives to be filmed.

Have you ever heard someone or something described as “the salt of the earth?” That’s the best way I have for summing up my feelings toward these shows. During 1937, Europe was experiencing economic depression and the rise of fascism. James Herriot’s memoirs are a reminder to us that, even in those kinds of times, there are corners of the world where people work hard and live simply but richly, with faith in the words of the old hymn:

All things bright and beautiful, All creatures great and small,

All things wise and wonderful, The Lord God made them all.