SPOILER ALERT: This summary contains spoilers for episode four of Little Girl Drummer. You can read previous recaps here.
As this last Le Carré adaptation has hopscothched throughout the UK and Europe of 1981, different opinions on how effective it evoked the sights, sounds and atmosphere of its defining period. Even the most skeptical viewer will have to admit, however, that the opening chapter of Chapter Four really caught the powder powder extract of the 1980 static static caravan in Somerset: periods of cloudy boredom punctuated by shouts and big shouts.
After the relief of her first adventures adventure in Austria, Charlie (Florence Fu) was in a waiting pattern, touring with her theater friends while she waited for Michel's revolutionary network to make contact. It was fraught with poor feed and cruel swans while the caretaker Becker (Alexander Skarsgård) continued her training in commerce. Charlie learned about scribbled messages at the top of cigarette packets, introduced herself with a portable alarm clock radio with a hidden transmitter and committed some random target practice with a gun.
Becker also carefully fed her background information on Michelle, possibly preventing the most important part of Intel: the playboy bomber was dead, smashed to pieces in the busy Mercedes. This omission turned out to be essential when Michel's friends finally arrived in the form of Anton, a Swiss lawyer, crammed with a gadget-control coat. After leaving her business card in her cramped quarters-again, probably not for the first time a bottle of unskilled vodka was a central part of Somerset's caravan leave-Anton rattled Charlie from her excavations for a cursory investigation with poor Helga.
The apparent response of Charlie to the news of Michelle's death-as well as her condescending revelation of the kiss of his gun-was enough to convince her strange kidnappers that she was the real thing. It was a prominent scene of high tension, though one with two moments of black comedy: an uncomfortable power cut, requiring Anton to push 50p from his prisoner on a meter, an unexpected burst of Kenny Rogers from the dodgy clock radio. Of all the many auditions of Charlie so far, it was probably the hardest. But she seemed to pass by her, even if she was excited to visit later during their debriefing at the cemetery.
For Kurtz (Michael Shannon), who was now with his team in a hotel in London, it was the operational breakthrough of his dreams: direct connection to the distributor network. In his excitement the metaphors intervened. "You opened a new can of worms for us, Charlie," he chuckled, "worms we've been digging for years." Despite his strategic nature as a careful planner of backup plans and plans, it seems to Charlie that he is not right to respond when Charlie asked if he had always intended to kill Michel. He gave it to her straight, trying to protect Becker from guilt. She charged.
Or was it all part of Kurtz's overall plan, a way of exploiting the fickle relationship between Charlie and his best operator? The controller, who had spent the last three chapters returning from Charlie, finally threw away his suspicious face and showed her something of his true self: a small, slightly anonymous London crash up a dizzying staircase. If the attractions and urgency between Charlie and Becker were the long, slow thread that filtered through the story so far, he finally lit it.
This long physical acceptance seemed important to advancing the relationship between two major players, but for all the passion presented-enhanced by some eccentric management decisions-the hallucinations of Charlie and Becker after the Quattal takeover seemed equally significant to me. As he twisted a bedside lamp under his thin sheet, Charlie toured the scars of her beloved's body, which seemed so fascinating in Naxos: a biography, a kind engraved on Becker's body after many years of war in both cold and warm wars Disgusting of Pomeranian crooks). Then, with her lamp, Charlie conducted her mock investigation, a story of a spy story recounting his heart among lovers.
If Reli would find life back in the UK a little boring, contacting Helga returns everything into gear. A sophisticated telephone box turned out to be an ambush when Arley got into the car at gunpoint, and then snatched it into Beirut through Charles de Gaulle. When details of her whereabouts were dripped back to Kurtz in London, he seemed triumphant; here was his well-groomed bait, through the car boot of various battered Slonim, straight to his goal. Becker, torn from Charlie's expedition to begin with, seems a bit less excited.
So much of the story so far involved men driving or forcing women, from the positioning of Michelle's beautiful bomb planes to the Arles. But the closing scenes of the fourth episode left us in an interesting place, when Charlie suddenly met Fatma, the dead sister of the dead, whose life had been carefully packed. With the little bit about Michelle's birthmarks and scars (and penis), what would these women – both of whom needed to survive on their wits in dangerous situations – have to discuss? I'm curious to find out.
Review Park's performance
If the early marketing of the little drummer girl seemed to emphasize the attractiveness of her two main stars, their old-fashioned sex scene came with a surrealistic advantage. When he saw Scarsgard open his mouth, seemingly in tears of passion, only to see the eyeball of Pooh floating in was more disturbing than sexy. But director Park Anwok seemed to relish these moments of disorientation: Charlie's photography points, pushed by various climbers, also added a few shocks to her journey in Lebanon.
Spy notes and observations
Becker had invited Charlie to kiss the gun-an intimate ceremony for Michelle, adopted by the older brother of the evening-had an unforgettable eccentricity, but also seemed dangerous. Is not this recently fired barrel still hot?
She may go along with Kurtz's plans, but Charlie reads the work of the Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish, knowing that Israel and his team will listen to her clock radio, feel like the back of the rebellion.
The classical approach is stylish and often theatrical remains a division. "The Magus meets the new avengers and meets Ipcress files," argued one commentator, who sounded like a high praise; "A French parody and Saunders on herself," said another.
Now we met Fatma, but there was hardly a trace of his older brother, Lil. Are you impatient for the elusive brain to emerge from the shadows?
The little drummer is being released this week in the United States, with all six episodes screened in double notes over three nights Beware of spoilers.