This adaptation of Eugene McCabe’s novel parses politics and sectarianism in 19th-century Ireland through a divided family without being heavy-handed
Your enjoyment of Death and Nightingales (BBC Two) will stand or fall according to your tolerance of three things: a 19th-century Ireland populated by strikingly beautiful people in unfeasibly well-laundered chemises; DIY cow-bloat remedies; and lines such as: “The heartbreak of this place. Love it, hate it, there’s no place like it on earth. Tomorrow, I leave it for ever.”
While my Irish ancestry has been diluted over the past few generations, I can take as much of this stuff as you can throw at me and still wave my shillelagh in the air for more. But I understand the impulse of many to turn and run back across the sea – and time – to a less lyrical place of greater safety. However, if you fight that instinct and try leaning in – hard, deliberately, determinedly – this adaptation of Eugene McCabe’s critically acclaimed 1993 novel shall reward you.
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