Gentleman Jack review: Suranne Jones and Sophie Rundle sparkle together

As Anne Lister’s plans to find a wife and restart the family mine kick into gear, Gentleman Jack flips the idea of period drama courtship on its head.

After a pilot episode that spent most of its time explaining who everyone is, HBO’s Gentleman Jack launches into its proper story in its second episode, doing everything a traditional period drama is supposed to do, but in a whole new way.

There’s a courtship, as Anne begins to visit the lonely – and extremely rich – heiress Ann Walker. And there’s business, as Miss Lister further investigates the Halifax coal mining scene and relishes every second of digging into this new area of which she possesses little knowledge.

These are all typical plots, of course. Who hasn’t watched the main character in a period drama swoon over a love interest or fret over the family business?

The difference here, of course, is that Anne Lister is a woman.

And not just any woman. A wealthy upper class woman with agency and an agenda of her own. That is, as one might imagine, rather out of the ordinary in this sort of story.

As is Anne’s Frank Underwood-style fourth wall breaking. (Just think about Lizzie Bennett or Mary Crawley talking to the camera this way, is what I’m saying. Imagine how those stories might be different.)

Gentleman Jack – Episode 2 – Suranne Jones, Sophie Rundle. Photo: Matt Squire/HBO

Through her direct-to-viewer offsides, we learn that Anne is buttering up Miss Walker on purpose, with the goal of enticing her into a romantic relationship and, eventually, marriage. The young woman is rich, largely unencumbered by immediate family (busybody aunts aside), extremely sheltered and clearly in desperate want of a friend.

Of course Ann Walker is immediately enraptured by a woman like Anne Lister, who’s everything she is not. Her fascinating stories of travel, learning and scandalous social interactions are clearly something Ann’s never heard before. It also feels equally unlikely that Miss Walker has ever really had anyone in her life that talks to her like an equal and expects her to be able to keep up.

Because for whatever reason and despite all the advantages she has in life, Ann Walker has epically low self-esteem, a fact that Anne both takes advantage of and clearly pities. Whether this is because Ann has lived such a sheltered life to date, or because everyone around her has never seem to ask or expect anything from her isn’t quite clear. But, as such, she has something of a “diamond in the rough” vibe (excuse the Aladdin reference) that Anne clearly finds intriguing.

Theoretically, Anne is playing a game here or, at the very least, setting up something of a long con. Though she hopes that she and Ann might co-exist happily together, she clearly initiates their interaction with ulterior – and to be honest, pretty shady – motives. However, right from the start, it doesn’t feel as though Anne’s flirtation with her target is as, shall we say, uninterested as her direct to camera comments imply.

Part of our reluctance to assume Anne’s interest is all an act is probably due to the fact that Suranne Jones and Sophie Rundle have insane chemistry with one another. The two women sparkle together, looking so genuinely happy to be in each other’s company that it’s impossible not to believe attraction is both mutual and legitimate.

Gentleman Jack – Episode 2: Albane Courtois, Suranne Jones. Photo: Matt Squire/HBO

These are scenes of courtship we’ve seen across many period dramas, of course, as one party pays calls on the other and the two bond over seemingly mundane topics such as art and history. (Or in this case, human anatomy.) There are moments where the two people involved sit too close to one another or touch hands only to yank one away in seeming embarrassment. One usually says something that’s kind of forwardly romantic and the other doesn’t quite know how to react.

We’ve seen this sort of thing dozens of times before in prestige period dramas, of course. Think Pride and Prejudice, Downton Abbey, North and South, etc. Of course, the big difference here is that this courtship is between two women, which completely makes even the most mundane interactions crackle with what feels like a whole new and exciting intent.

Gentleman Jack does deserve significant praise for not treating the flirtation between Anne and Ann as anything out of the ordinary. (Given the matter-of-fact way it treats Anne’s sexuality generally, we probably shouldn’t have expected it to treat this courtship with anything other than the straightforwardness with it handles everything else.) The two women are clearly drawn to one another in the same way they would be if one of them were a man, and the story treats their attraction as such.

And while Anne Walker’s introduction in the pilot episode may have left something to be desired, Sophie Rundle gets a lot more to work with in “I just went there to study anatomy.” Where her Ann was something of a blank slate in the series’ first episode, here she is given much more depth. Her general loneliness is palpable, as is her anxiety over her largely sheltered existence. (The moment where she’s afraid people will get tired of her if forced to hang around her for too long is mildly heartbreaking.)

Rundle also does a great job conveying both Ann’s loyalty to Miss Lister, and her confusion about what, precisely, she feels toward the other woman. There’s no specific dialogue that indicates any of this, the conflict is almost entirely played out on Rundle’s face, and it’s a remarkably subtle performance.

The episode concludes with Anne Lister attending the wedding of the ex-lover she just broke things off with in Hastings while Ann Walker heads off on a three-week holiday to the Lake Country. After finding some sort of closure – maybe – at the ceremony, Anne heads off to follow Ann. But is this part of her plan or just because she wants to see her?

We’ll find out next week.

Gentleman Jack continues May 6 at 10pm ET on HBO.