His Dark Materials ‘Armour’ Review: Lyra tries to take back control of the narrative.
- Adam Tye
- Nov 25, 2019
- 7 min read
The following spoils Episode Four of His Dark Materials: 'Armour', as well as light spoilers regarding the themes all three books in the series.
Last week, I wrote a review of His Dark Materials' second episode; specifically with regards to the Boreal twist and how the show might have lost Lyra's perspective in the process. I also included a big fat disclaimer to the effect of 'this is only episode two and episode three might be very different so take what I say with a tub of salt'. I didn't want to talk too much about episode three because, far from changing tact, it instead doubled down on all the things I disliked about episode two: namely, lots more of Boreal's very confusing antics in our world as he investigates a (currently meaningless) frozen head. I'm back for episode four, however, which provided a blessed relief from Boreal's slog through Andrew Scott's photo records by thrusting us right into a story defined by two of the show's most proactive characters: Lyra and newcomer Lee Scoresby. So, instead of scrambling for the reputation of 'guy who only moans about things', I wanted to do a quick write-up on the really smart adaptational changes that the showrunners made in this episode.
And then I want to moan about how it might not matter. Because old habits die hard.
Armour covers chapters 10 and 11 from Northern Lights - in particular, Lyra's increasing proficiency with the alethiometer, as well as her attempts to recruit an armoured bear named Iorek Byrnison from the menial labour that a fishing village has consigned him too. We learn that Byrnison was once King of the Panserbjorne (a lot of talking bears), who was tricked into drunkenness by the townsfolk and relieved of his precious armour in the night. Much like daemons are to humans, a bear's armour is his soul' crafted by and for themselves and no other; an exchange that pushes the show closer towards a key point it has so far managed to only skirt around: the significance that a daemon has to a person. Lyra uses the alethiometer to locate Iorek's armour, which he then reclaims by giving the fishing village a light dust-up. Also, Lin-Manuel Miranda is there.
Coming out of Armour, its tempting to rush straight at Iorek Byrnison and bury your critical thinking deep in his gorgeously-realised CGI fur. And yes, Iorek is a technological creation unlike any the Beeb has likely come close to airing before (there must be more money in that bear than there is in whole episodes or seasons of Doctor Who), but in a story where he is the most marginalised and powerless character, this doesn’t quite feel like the best time to discuss him.
Instead, I want to look at Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Lee Scoresby – someone I unfairly did dirty in my summary earlier, as well as the actor on the show with arguably the tallest shoes to fill. Originally played to perfection in The Golden Compass by Sam Elliot (aka the guy you picture in your head whenever anyone says the word “Texan”), Lee Scoresby is a well-travelled character whose nobility is matched perhaps only by Iorek Byrnison. He isn’t the hero of the story, but he is definitely a hero. There’s a restrained and confident kind of charm that you can feel even whilst reading; a laid-back attitude that seems like it would skid ride up against Lin-Manuel Miranda – a man who seems to never stop exuding excitable energy. And yet, he’s arguably the non-CGI highlight of the episode (outside of Dudley Dursley’s brilliantly weird appearance); largely because Miranda’s scrappier kind of charm works well with the show’s tweaks to the character.
Still identifiable where it counts, Miranda’s Scoresby isn’t as fully formed in his heroism just yet. He’s still definitely on the side of good, but there’s a hesitance to his actions and an occasional heavy look in his eyes that suggest a slightly more cynical worldview. It’s arguably the smartest change the show has made yet to from the books, gifting his actions within the episode a sense of development that helps to keep the hour-long stopover feel grander than it probably is. It’s also likely to make his growing fondness for Lyra more powerful in the coming weeks, all while giving Miranda more room to distinguish himself from a previous casting that even Pullman himself considers to be definitive.
He's also joined by his daemon Hector, who does more in one bar brawl to draw attention to the bond between human and daemon than the show has managed for three episodes now. Given the expense that it would cost, its perhaps understandable that the show has shied away from going all in on the daemons, but where the books constantly emphasised how close Lyra is to Pan, the show has treated him as largely auxiliary and I do not understand why because its going to bite the show in the ass later. Hector, along with Lyra's conversation with Fader Coram in episode three, takes us a step closer just purely through virtue of being talkative - her brief, but energetic commentary to Lee Scoresby's tavern beating making her arguably the most vividly formed daemon next to Mrs. Coulter's silently expressive monkey.
Speaking of the devil, Mrs. Coulter (the most reliably watchable part of the show thanks to Ruth Wilson slam-dunking it week after week) continues her side plot tracking Lyra from inside the Magisterium. Her scenes show where Boreal’s have gone wrong, as she constantly advances the narrative in ways that are actually tangible to the audience. The decision to show us her interactions with Iofur Raknison (later bad guy and crazy bear king) ahead of schedule works because there’s a real sense of foreboding coming off the back of our first interaction with Iorek. In the books, Iofur arrives almost out of nowhere - an approach which worked well when the story was just Lyra's perspective, but would feel arbitrary for a sprawling tv show. Shifting him to this episode makes for one of the show's best changes yet, alongside the alterations made to Lee Scoresby.
And finally, there's Lyra. After being largely sidelined in previous episodes, she's finally taking control of the narrative this week, calling the shots and freeing armoured bears in ways, that have changed the show forever, albeit not in the cosmic way that Boreal has. It's a relief that the show has finally given her a sense of meaningful agency, but that it has come four hours in is particularly telling; especially after the books managed to make her a compelling character throughout that same period without many fundamental changes. In my first draft of this write-up, I wrote how it was relieving to see the show finally embrace Lyra as the centre of this story, but on reflection, I'm still not sure that it has. Sure, Lyra is the main motivator on paper as all characters move towards or around her, but the way the show is presented clashes against this. Lyra is a Potter-esque adventurer that is still experienced by us as merely a single chess piece amidst a 'Game of Thrones' tower of players. For all the emphasis placed upon her this week, we know from the next time trailer that Boreal will back more front and centre than ever before.
If I was being cynical (haha, "if") it's hard to feel like the show is really putting much importance into presenting Lyra's story as vital television, because it's so confident that the source material and foreboding hype is handling most of the work. So we get a Lyra that is constantly at a distance as other characters crowd in for their moment in the sun. We get oddly stiff direction that does a beautiful job of showing us the production and events, but does so without any sense of urgency. For a show that was expected to be the next seminal piece of fantasy entertainment, it too often feels sluggish. That cynical part of my brain has already clambered to notice the effects of this; namely, that the show hasn't exactly been dominating the cultural conversation.
The small scale stakes of Armour illuminate some truly canny decisions on the part of he filmmakers, but isn't yet enough to tip the scales dramatically. All hope for that kind of payoff now lies in Season One's final chapters, as the scope of Pullman's work and bravery begins to be revealed in all its philosophical and sinister glory. Northern Lights has some truly daring aces up its sleeve that it plays during its second half (we'll see the first of them next week, which is likely to be the most unsettling episode yet) and time will tell whether His Dark Materials is able to render them as electrifying as they deserve to be. It's why I once again put up my Big Fat Disclaimer that the gradual escalation of stakes in the coming weeks might still age this review like room-temperature milk. Until then, and in spite of my moaning, I will take a solid episode about a giant bear beating up Dudley Dursley in order to get his clothes back.
Other Notes:
It’s interesting to note Joe Tandberg’s more guttural and hoarse interpretation of the character when compared to Ian McKellen’s take from The Golden Compass. Whereas McKellen’s default tone seems to be power and royalty, Tandberg’s does little to betray Iorek’s history. For now, this is mostly an observation and it will be interesting to see how the character evolves.
Serafina Pekkala's daemon is changed from a large goose to a bird of prey - likely because the former lacks...um...gravitas? I don't know - I went to University in York; if you mock Geese here, you'll probably spot one writing your name down on a piece of paper.
SPOILERS FOR AMBER SPYGLASS: Mrs. Coulter asking the alethiometer for information on Lyra suggests the show might be about to divulge the Lyra = Eve prophecy ahead of time. I kind of get the impulse to do so, as drawing the audience's attention to this element soon would make Pullman's themes more explicit than they are right now. At the same time, it might land with a thud if we don't hit the Authority and Angel material first. Honestly, the show spoils more of the later books in its episodes than I do writing here.
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