Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light was originally supposed to debut around 2017, only two years after the first season aired. The fact that it took creatives this long to complete the project means that while the follow-up is a success of British period drama, the tone and creative approach are very different from other recent Tudor England programs. What makes Cromwell’s epic downfall different from other courtly dramas on our screens?
The first recent production many people will think of in association with Tudor England is Six the Musical. Creators Toby Marlow and Lucy Moss debuted the musical on London’s West End in 2017, and the show has since expanded to Broadway and several US and international tours. If you haven’t seen the show, listening to the Original Broadway Cast soundtrack will give you a very good feel for the experience, as it also includes between-scenes dialogue and vocals. As the name suggests, the musical is about Henry VIII’s six wives competing in an American Idol-style challenge, only to discover that they’re better off working together to get over Henry VIII’s cruelty and historical misogyny. Each queen gets a song to tell her side of history.
While the lyrical story of each queen is told through modern subgenres of pop music, the historical facts are in tune with recent historical research of the Tudor period. The plot of Wolf Hall Seasons 1 and 2 covers the same ground as Six the Musical songs from the introduction “Ex Wives” through Anne of Cleves’ song “Get Down.” Aragon’s song “No Way,” inspired by Beyonce, calls out the fact that Henry lied about his motivations for divorce. Anne Boleyn’s song “Don’t Lose Ur Head” is inspired by Avril Lavigne and Lily Allen. In it, Anne claps back at her family for using her to advance their ambitions, and also attacks Henry for having multiple affairs while Anne was expected to be perfect. In “Made of Stone,” Jane Seymour’s Adele-style ballad, she professes her love for Henry and her willingness to raise her family with strength. The electronic music influenced “Haus of Holbein” describes how the German and other princesses sat for portraits to send to Henry VIII, and the questionable beauty treatments of the time. Cleves’ song “Get Down” celebrates her extremely generous annulment settlement.
Unfortunately, Cromwell dies before Katherine Howard is crowned, but her Katy Perry and Britney Spears-inspired song “All You Wanna Do” attacks her uncle and family for allowing her to be molested by suitors more than twice her age and setting up her marriage to Henry for personal gain. In contrast, the little we see of Howard in the series finale of Wolf Hall shows her as a spoiled rich girl propped up by her uncle, Norfolk.
Songwriters Toby Moss and Lucy Marlow, in numerous interviews, have said they wanted to give women and nonbinary people back the voices lost in history. This philosophy is what sets Six the Musical apart from Wolf Hall: Henry’s cruelty and male dominance are challenged. The queens’ trauma, love, and power are celebrated because they changed the course of British history. Cromwell isn’t mentioned explicitly, but his influence led to two divorces and a beheading. Cromwell’s perspective throughout Wolf Hall paints the queens in varying levels of negative light; the least of which is his false belief that he could have saved Jane Seymour from death after childbirth. Only young Mary and Elizabeth are seen positively. Even the presence of Hilary Mantel’s plot device character Jennike doesn’t entirely soften Cromwell’s view that the queens are only there to make future kings.
Six the Musical’s concept of framing Tudor history from the perspective of the queens is a newer entry in an existing trend. Glenda Jackson’s Elizabeth R, one of the earliest MASTERPIECE period dramas, depicts events from the perspective of a young woman fighting male chauvinists in court. There have of course been several biographical and historical fiction takes on this era in novels and at the movies, but it is much easier to compare Wolf Hall’s style and production to other television dramas.
Another example is the STARZ/Sky 2018 series The Spanish Princess, which covers Catherine of Aragon’s life in England until her exile from court. The series is an adaptation of Phillipa Gregory’s novel of the same name and stars Downton Abbey alum Laura Carmichael. The series begins with Aragon’s doomed marriage to Henry’s older brother, Arthur, and contends that the marriage was consummated, but Aragon lied to save herself and her retinue from defeat, financial loss, and being sent back to Spain. She marries Henry and adjusts to life as a queen and as a foreigner in the English court, emerging as a strong-willed queen who supports Henry in consolidating his power. Season 2 goes into more detail about her miscarriages and Henry’s affairs, leading to Aragon’s divorce and exile. Catherine is portrayed as a faithful Catholic, betrayed by her husband’s lust and power seeking. Cromwell isn’t a character, but his mentor, Cardinal Wolsey, is. The viewer is aware of Catherine’s tragic fate, but her refusal to step aside to appease Henry’s whims is shown as a positive quality. Anne Boleyn is a villain in Catherine’s story, but it’s understandable that Catherine would hate her husband’s mistress.
Gregory’s novels are known for heightening romance and court intrigue as well as leaning into editing historical details to create more drama. These romance subplots were swept aside in Wolf Hall, but they’re key to the way The Spanish Princess was written and marketed to audiences. While previous Gregory television and film adaptations were criticized for historical mythmaking, The Spanish Princess consciously chose to insert one aspect of lost Tudor history onscreen. Oneyka Nubia, the series’ historical advisor, as well as fellow historians Hakim Adi and David Olusuga, have written extensively about recent archival discoveries from inside and outside Henry’s court. Catherine’s Spanish retinue is featured extensively, especially her Moor lady in waiting Lina and Lina’s soldier husband Oviedo. Audience demand for more diverse period dramas has increased since Season 1 of Wolf Hall, and the absence of the real people Lina and Oviedo represent in the early episodes is a glaring omission.
The 2022 AMC/Channel 5 limited series Anne Boleyn was plagued by bad-faith racist attacks against the lead actress Jodie Turner-Smith in the press and social media. Unlike Wolf Hall, Anne Boleyn was not based on a previous work of historical fiction, but a compilation of several Tudor biographies. However, what was lost in the controversy was that the series portrayed Anne as a victim of Henry VIII’s — and Cromwell’s by extension — gaslighting psychological abuse in the days and weeks before she was beheaded. The commentary around Anne Boleyn should have focused on how the episodes were a huge contrast from Wolf Hall’s depiction of her final days. The screenwriters actively pushed back on the rumors (that became treated as fact) that Anne was a “witch” and an adulterer, and showed that the rumors were excuses her enemies in court contrived. Anne is shown to be aware of Henry flirting with Jane Seymour while Jane is still serving as one of Anne’s ladies in waiting. The writers also insinuate that Anne and her cousin Katherine Howard were the victims of racial microaggressions. The emphasis on psychology separates Anne Boleyn from Wolf Hall and other Tudor History dramas.
Showtime’s The Tudors premiered in 2007 — well before Wolf Hall — however it may be a reference point some viewers have for the history and character archetypes. Like Wolf Hall, Henry’s male perspective dominates the storytelling. Cromwell is also featured, but he’s not the main player. The queens are not always shown to be sympathetic characters, or to even have their own perspectives outside of their relationships with Henry. The Tudors was even more aggressive than The Spanish Princess in regards to portraying Henry’s love affairs, marriages, and romances, with advertising aimed at younger women who are assumed to be more interested in romance and scandal than history. This version of Henry is a Tudor playboy, and at times the political drama takes a backseat. The Tudors also represents the older all-white period dramas that newer series are counteracting.
All of these productions spent millions of dollars on sets, costumes, and actors, especially The Tudors and Season 1 of Wolf Hall. But the financial side of TV production has changed dramatically since 2015. The rise of streaming services on both sides of the Atlantic, plus UK government funding cuts to the BBC and arts projects, upended the traditional means of production financing. This conversation is extremely complicated, but what is important here is that Sir Colin Callender, the producer of Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light and All Creatures Great & Small, and his business partner, director Peter Kosminsky, had a tough time raising production funding for Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light. They were rejected by many investors, and had to cut salaries and other expenses to make filming happen.
In addition to increased competition among streamers and networks on both sides of the Atlantic, the cost of producing a TV series has been compounded by the ongoing pandemic. Productions now have to hire staff whose job it is to handle prevention, treatment, and safety precautions for COVID-19 and other infections. Not only are period drama costumes and recreating historical locations expensive, there’s also the ongoing issue of whether the money invested will result in profit for the network or studio. A series like Wolf Hall may not attract advertisers who want to sell products targeted to college students, as an example.
Could there be another theatrical period drama along the lines of Wolf Hall on MASTERPIECE in the future? We know that production on The Forsytes, the new adaptation of The Forsyte Saga written by Poldark’s screenwriter Debbie Horsfeld, is still in progress. The next big Tudor England drama can build on Wolf Hall by revolving around a different perspective than Henry VIII and continue the current trends, emphasizing hidden or reclaimed history. There’s easily space for a drama solely devoted to John Blanke, a Black Tudor trumpeter, for example. Instead of the queens, why not a series profiling the female servants and courtiers who served them? My Lady Jane featured queer Tudors, however that series also portrayed a version of Tudor England with animal shapeshifters. A more realistic hidden history series would do very well. We can’t predict the future, and we’re not privy to inside information, but the next great period drama will have to compete for funding with all sorts of other series.
