Even though it only consists of one eight-episode season so far – with the second run of 10 installments dropping this coming Friday on Prime Video – Carnival Row deserves to be called one of the most frustrating shows on television.
On every conceivable technical level, the series is nothing short of stunning. From the richly-detailed world of The Burgue to the immaculately-conceived lore and mythology that defines its rules, regulations, and residents via the top-notch production design, costuming, and visual effects, all of the elements are there for a concept that should rank as a potential great of the fantasy genre.
And yet, it’s the most simple and straightforward elements that let it down first time around, something that hasn’t been remedied ahead of the grand finale. All of the fascinating world-building and expertly-orchestrated set pieces in the world don’t mean a thing if there’s not an engaging narrative to sink your teeth into – or compelling protagonists with which to anchor the story – and that’s once again proven to be the show’s undoing.
Thankfully, the season 2 opener begins with an extended recap, because if you haven’t seen Carnival Row before – or haven’t dipped back in since the first run initially aired – then you’d be completely and utterly lost. Part of that is down to a lengthy gap of almost four years – with the premiere coming way back in August of 2019, an eternity in episodic terms – but also because the inbuilt social and political systems became so dense as to reach near-impenetrable levels to those with a lack of patience for their limitless machinations.
To wrap your head around the world of the fae, pucks, magic, the supernatural, infighting among families, warring factions, and plenty more besides is a lot, and matters aren’t helped by an extended 10-episode final season that becomes increasingly soggy and padded-feeling as it wears on.
As a result, there’s even more going on than usual, but while that doesn’t need to be a problem, it would have helped were enough of the storytelling meal substantial enough to keep even the most ravenous of fans satiated. If Carnival Row spends so much time spinning its wheels that even dedicated supporters might begin to struggle, then the causal audience likely doesn’t stand a chance of making it all the way through.
The gist – or at least the closest thing approximating it given the overstuffed nature of season 2 as a whole – is that war is coming to The Burgue in one way or another. Lovers-turned-enemies-turned-friends-turned-lovers-turned enemies-turned-frenemies Rycroft Philostrate (Orlando Bloom) and Vignette Stonemoss (Cara Delevingne) still act as the audience surrogates, which is another problem in and of itself.
Bloom is a better actor than he often gets credit for, but he simply doesn’t have the charisma or screen presence to make for an engaging enough protagonist, even when playing around in the “grizzled and world-weary cop with a tragic backstory” sandbox that everyone knows and loves. In addition, he continues to generate precisely zero chemistry with Delevingne, so there’s no real reason to get overly invested in their twisting, turning, and ultimately dovetailing destinies.
Philo is back to doing what he does best in an unofficial capacity; namely, investigating bloody murder. Meanwhile, Vignette has fallen in with the rebellious Black Raven group to plot revenge on their human oppressors. Then, almost half of the running time is dedicated to the complicated and convoluted journey of star-crossed lovers Agreus Astrayon (David Gyasi) and Imogen Spurnrose (Tamzin Merchant), the gentrified puck and high society spinster that fell into each other’s arms last season.
Carnival Row also throws in the globetrotting revenge quest of Imogen’s brother Ezra (Andrew Gower), another rogue faction called the New Dawn that’s creating havoc for The Pact (allies of The Burgue, in case you’d forgotten), and we haven’t even mentioned Philo weaponizing his alliance with Simon McBurney’s political advisor Runyon Millworthy, which threatens to either facilitate, hasten, or destroy an ongoing power struggle between Arty Froushan’s chancellor Jonah Breakspear (who inherited the title from his late father – who was also Philo’s old man) and his conniving occasional lover (Caroline Ford’s Sophie Longerbane), who’s running her own scheme with an eye on the top job.
All this, and we’ve yet to cover Karla Crome’s Tourmaline Larou inheriting the gifts of witchcraft that allow her to see through the eyes of others to conveniently further the plot, or the gnarly winged monster covered in teeth that’s making an unnerving habit of showing up at the most inopportune moments to plunge The Burgue ever closer to the brink of all-out war by leaving nothing behind but blood, guts, entrails, and a mystery that carries on in the background all season.
To say there’s a lot going on would be an understatement of significant proportions, but as incredible as Carnival Row continues to be on a visual level – as mentioned previously, it might well be the most intricately-crafted fantasy mythos currently going – trying to simultaneously oil so many moving parts ultimately leads to a backlog of half-cooked and under-baked subplots that don’t do a particularly good job of holding interest.
When season 2 soars it’s fittingly magical to see unfold, with a handful of stirring action sequences set against mesmerizing backdrops throwing off both the cobwebs and shackles to delight and excite, but it’s going to go down in the history books as one of the biggest missed opportunities of the prestige TV era.
There’s so much to love about the noir-tinged fantasy dripping in big ideas and bolder execution, but storytelling shortcomings once again cut Carnival Row off at the knees, yielding an ultimately frustrating experience when a massive volume of ingenuity, inventiveness, and ambition is undone by the simplest aspects of spinning a yarn.
Middling
Much like the first season, 'Carnival Row' delivers fascinating mythology, immaculate world-building and dazzling visuals, which still isn't enough to compensate for a plodding narrative that spins its wheels far too regularly.