House of Guinness is the damnedest show. There are times when the ultra-moderne needledrops, the surfeit of straightforwardly attractive young people in the cast, and the reliance on upstairs/downstairs across-the-tracks attraction for the soapy stuff makes it all feel a bit old-school CW Network. It’s like The Vampire Diaries if they all drank stout instead of blood.
Then along will come a line of dialogue like this:
“Out there in the darkness beyond the baronial halls there is laughter all night long, and those birds always sing too soon.”
Or this:
“To see you love inappropriately…it’s like opening a window for fresh air!”
Or this:
“You can wear your Sunday suit, but there will be no hymns, no prayers.”
And suddenly you’re not watching Gossip Cailín, you’re watching Deadwood: Dublin. You’re watching Boardwalk Republic. You’re watching a period piece with something to say, and the skill to say it well.
I reviewed the sixth episode of House of Guinness for Decider.
Tags: decider, house of guinness, TV, TV reviews