Normal People is a sweeping epic. Which seems hyperbolic considering it's the story about a boy and girl who meet in high school and their subsequent on-off relationship through college. But believe me when I say that this is a romantic saga that puts all of humanity into perspective. It might be hyper-specific to these two Irish lovers, but that specificity is brimming with universal truths that unfold over the course of twelve short episodes that simply take your breath away.
Daisy Edgar-Jones and Paul Mescal star as Marianne and Connell. Remember those names because you will be hearing them constantly during awards season. I know it's still early in the year, but this is the best show of 2020 and these two actors will be sweeping up a host of awards. The characters they play are incredibly complicated and nuanced: a boy and a girl, and then a man and woman, who have a deep and profound connection and yet simply cannot articulate it properly and keep getting in the way of their own happiness. Their relationship begins as a sexual lark, two high schoolers who like each other and want to have some fun, but then it all gets very messy. Connell is quiet and well-liked, while Marianne is the belligerent loner. They would never be friends in school, but because Connell's mother is a cleaner who works for Marianne's family, they are thrown together and embark upon this epic, occasionally doomed romance that ebbs and flows as they enter Trinity College and shakily take their first steps into adulthood. They both have deep psychological problems they need to work through: Marianne's are more apparent and Episode 9 is where things come to a head for her, while Episode 10 is Connell's moment to unveil his struggles. Those two episodes are a master class in portraying the turbulence of mental illness and how much work is needed to slowly come back to yourself. Indeed, the whole point of this show is to unveil how all of the "normal people" we see around us are a mirage, a collection of human complexity that you can never fully comprehend. All we can do is support each other in our journeys to find ourselves and understand what "normal" means for us.
The show is based on Sally Rooney's 2019 novel. I devoured this book in one sitting two weeks ago, and then embarked upon the show. Which is the best possible way to watch it. Reading the book was a moving and engrossing experience, and there were passages that spoke to the depths of my soul. I identified with these characters and felt their heartbreak and their joy. Their misunderstandings were so painful to behold, mostly because of how realistic they were. These weren't some contrived arguments to drive the plot forward - these felt like the stupid things that people say to each other (or more often don't say) that then drive them apart. I was all shook up after reading the book, and then I watched the show. And it was like I got to relive every moment of reading the book except now Marianne and Connell were alive in front of me, saying all the words I had read and engaging in those painful silences where I wanted to scream, "No, you don't understand, Connell doesn't want to see other people, he's just not very good at communication!" The show was adapted by Rooney and Alice Birch and I have never been more grateful for an author being able to adapt her own work. She manages to pour the essence of the novel into every scene and create a swoony and miraculous ode to modern romance.
The first half of the show was directed by Lenny Abrahamson, and the last six episodes were directed by Hettie Macdonald. I am so grateful to these two directors for the reverence with which they have treated the subject matter. This is a slow-building story that needs to be given enough room to breathe and blossom on its own. There are many sex scenes and I don't think I've ever seen a TV show that treats sex in quite such a realistic but still romantic fashion before - there's plenty of full frontal nudity, but in the hand of these directors, it is never gratuitous and serves such a concrete prurpose of driving the narrative forward. Indeed, it is the central point of this story that these two characters connect physically, and get each other intellectually, but their inability to discuss how they feel and what they want from their relationship is what proves to be the greatest obstacle in their path. There's a moment late in the series when Connell says, "I think it's pretty obvious I don't want you to leave." And Marianne replies, "I don't find it obvious what you want." And to me, that exchange summarizes the human condition in a nutshell. We're all walking around thinking that we are being perfectly obvious in our dealings with other humans, but it's only when we say what we want out loud, that we realize that there's nothing obvious at all about our needs. Ultimately, a good relationship is one where you finally find a person you can talk to, who listens to you, and doesn't just make assumptions when you say nothing at all.
The writing and acting are the main reason Normal People captivated my soul. But I would be very remiss if I didn't also mention the aesthetics of this show. The soundtrack is heavenly, both in terms of the original score by Stephen Rennicks and the songs that punctuate each episode and give it just the right tone. The costume design by Lorna Marie Mugan is so smart; for a show where the main characters often don't have a lot of dialogue, you rely a great deal on what they're wearing to understand how they have changed as they make their way through the world. Marianne's outfits as she transitions from high school to college instantly impress upon you what kind of a woman she is becoming, and it's remarkable to behold. While Connell's appearance never changes that much, which will ultimately be his undoing. And the cinematography by Suzie Lavelle and Kate McCullough lends such beauty to the proceedings. Every frame is soft yet precise, the lighting telling you what to focus on and somehow telling you exactly how to feel. Again, for a show that is so quiet, it is of the utmost importance that you have plenty of visual cues to convey the emotion of every moment, and thankfully, everyone working on this show is a true artist.
Normal People is a sublime TV experience. It is such a faithful adaptation of the novel, and watching it made me want to read the book again, and then come back and watch the show again. I'm caught in this endless loop of love for the story because it is so revelatory about how being alive can be incredibly painful and joyful at the same time. It is very difficult to explain why you should love a show like this, because all I can tell you is that it stirred up my heart. So give it a try and perhaps you will understand what I mean.
Daisy Edgar-Jones and Paul Mescal star as Marianne and Connell. Remember those names because you will be hearing them constantly during awards season. I know it's still early in the year, but this is the best show of 2020 and these two actors will be sweeping up a host of awards. The characters they play are incredibly complicated and nuanced: a boy and a girl, and then a man and woman, who have a deep and profound connection and yet simply cannot articulate it properly and keep getting in the way of their own happiness. Their relationship begins as a sexual lark, two high schoolers who like each other and want to have some fun, but then it all gets very messy. Connell is quiet and well-liked, while Marianne is the belligerent loner. They would never be friends in school, but because Connell's mother is a cleaner who works for Marianne's family, they are thrown together and embark upon this epic, occasionally doomed romance that ebbs and flows as they enter Trinity College and shakily take their first steps into adulthood. They both have deep psychological problems they need to work through: Marianne's are more apparent and Episode 9 is where things come to a head for her, while Episode 10 is Connell's moment to unveil his struggles. Those two episodes are a master class in portraying the turbulence of mental illness and how much work is needed to slowly come back to yourself. Indeed, the whole point of this show is to unveil how all of the "normal people" we see around us are a mirage, a collection of human complexity that you can never fully comprehend. All we can do is support each other in our journeys to find ourselves and understand what "normal" means for us.
The show is based on Sally Rooney's 2019 novel. I devoured this book in one sitting two weeks ago, and then embarked upon the show. Which is the best possible way to watch it. Reading the book was a moving and engrossing experience, and there were passages that spoke to the depths of my soul. I identified with these characters and felt their heartbreak and their joy. Their misunderstandings were so painful to behold, mostly because of how realistic they were. These weren't some contrived arguments to drive the plot forward - these felt like the stupid things that people say to each other (or more often don't say) that then drive them apart. I was all shook up after reading the book, and then I watched the show. And it was like I got to relive every moment of reading the book except now Marianne and Connell were alive in front of me, saying all the words I had read and engaging in those painful silences where I wanted to scream, "No, you don't understand, Connell doesn't want to see other people, he's just not very good at communication!" The show was adapted by Rooney and Alice Birch and I have never been more grateful for an author being able to adapt her own work. She manages to pour the essence of the novel into every scene and create a swoony and miraculous ode to modern romance.
The first half of the show was directed by Lenny Abrahamson, and the last six episodes were directed by Hettie Macdonald. I am so grateful to these two directors for the reverence with which they have treated the subject matter. This is a slow-building story that needs to be given enough room to breathe and blossom on its own. There are many sex scenes and I don't think I've ever seen a TV show that treats sex in quite such a realistic but still romantic fashion before - there's plenty of full frontal nudity, but in the hand of these directors, it is never gratuitous and serves such a concrete prurpose of driving the narrative forward. Indeed, it is the central point of this story that these two characters connect physically, and get each other intellectually, but their inability to discuss how they feel and what they want from their relationship is what proves to be the greatest obstacle in their path. There's a moment late in the series when Connell says, "I think it's pretty obvious I don't want you to leave." And Marianne replies, "I don't find it obvious what you want." And to me, that exchange summarizes the human condition in a nutshell. We're all walking around thinking that we are being perfectly obvious in our dealings with other humans, but it's only when we say what we want out loud, that we realize that there's nothing obvious at all about our needs. Ultimately, a good relationship is one where you finally find a person you can talk to, who listens to you, and doesn't just make assumptions when you say nothing at all.
The writing and acting are the main reason Normal People captivated my soul. But I would be very remiss if I didn't also mention the aesthetics of this show. The soundtrack is heavenly, both in terms of the original score by Stephen Rennicks and the songs that punctuate each episode and give it just the right tone. The costume design by Lorna Marie Mugan is so smart; for a show where the main characters often don't have a lot of dialogue, you rely a great deal on what they're wearing to understand how they have changed as they make their way through the world. Marianne's outfits as she transitions from high school to college instantly impress upon you what kind of a woman she is becoming, and it's remarkable to behold. While Connell's appearance never changes that much, which will ultimately be his undoing. And the cinematography by Suzie Lavelle and Kate McCullough lends such beauty to the proceedings. Every frame is soft yet precise, the lighting telling you what to focus on and somehow telling you exactly how to feel. Again, for a show that is so quiet, it is of the utmost importance that you have plenty of visual cues to convey the emotion of every moment, and thankfully, everyone working on this show is a true artist.
Normal People is a sublime TV experience. It is such a faithful adaptation of the novel, and watching it made me want to read the book again, and then come back and watch the show again. I'm caught in this endless loop of love for the story because it is so revelatory about how being alive can be incredibly painful and joyful at the same time. It is very difficult to explain why you should love a show like this, because all I can tell you is that it stirred up my heart. So give it a try and perhaps you will understand what I mean.
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