Crimes and Crinolines II: Inferno!

Sorry, I've either been busy or in Toronto for the past few days. But I will share with you all the hilarious conclusion of the British Period Drama I was describing in my last post. Our poor Scot never did get the girl, but it wasn't because of his long concealed capitalistic tendencies. Robert Carne didn't marry Sarah either, although it wasn't his mysterious heart ailment that got him. Instead he rode his horse too close to the edge of a cliff during a dramatic thunderstorm, and coastal erosion did the rest. I appreciated the unromantic realism of this ending. Too often have people gone too close to the edge because of turmoil in their innermost selves, or so the director could get a nice shot. Good aesthetics are no protection from severe head trauma. Perhaps the next Period Drama I borrow from the library will deal with my other perpetual annoyance: dozens of lit candles in single rooms. Seductive? No. FIRE HAZARD.