All Creatures Great and Small: Judgement Day

I've been having a bit of an All Creatures Great and Small marathon, on and off, these past couple of weeks, courtesy of two different public library systems. Thank you Contra Costa County Library and Santa Clara County Library.

I haven't watched All Creatures in years and felt like a nostalgic revisit. Although Series 1 is my favorite, Series 2 has an episode I remember very distinctly: "Judgement Day".

The DVD leaflet describes the episode thusly: "The Darrowby Show is a much-anticipated event for the whole community, except for the duty vet. This mixed honor belongs to James this year."

This is one of the few episodes James loses his temper. Up until this point, James (played by Christopher Timothy) has been unerringly patient with the locals, and much of the humor depends on his alien status as a Scotsman in the Yorkshire Dales. He's kind, tolerant of other's ideas (even if they're terribly old-fashioned and patently wrong, such as with home remedies for animals), and, most of all, even-tempered. But in "Judgement Day" James' good nature is stretched to breaking point. I have to admit, it's fun watching him boil over, since he's usually so even-tempered.

In England, fairs are similar to American fairs (or carnivals). Some are local borough fairs, usually held in the open spaces like countryside or parks; the one I attended in Slough in 1995—or was 1996?—incorporated the local geography with canal boat rides. Oh and the Slough Borough fair had Morris dancers, as the fictional Darrowby does in the BBC TV adaptation.

At the Darrowby Show, there's a horse competition and other contests, games, and events that bring the community together. Fairs are celebrations, local festivities meant to foster good feelings and community. But at this one, expectations of a good time are squelched. Ample opportunity for comedy gold.

Tristan flirts with a barmaid and gets a black eye; Siegfried losses a horse-riding bet (and £10) to an obnoxious boor (the upper-class villain, Richard), and Helen is generally disappointed by James' veterinary duties, which cut into time spent with her.

James believes in being honest, open and fair with people. He takes his duties as judge of the pet contest very seriously—so much so that a conflict of interests with one of the entrants poses an ethical dilemma for him. It involves Mrs. Pumphrey and her Pekingese, Tricky-Woo. (He resolves it, needless to say.)

He doesn't bend the rules when measuring horse heights for the horse competition, which pushes contestants out of shape. One rider attempts to sway his judgment by name-dropping James' colleague, Siegfried Farnon. Another entrant tries to intimidate James by presenting a veterinarian's certificate; no dice.

There are other aggravations for poor James. He even snubs someone, wanting to avoid her brutish cat. Snubbing is a rarity for the usually amiable Herriot.

The best part occurs when James has to officiate a "best pet" contest. How do you judge such a thing? He solves the problem by awarding first prize to the goldfish entry. It's not the most likely to win, and he thinks he's doing a kindness to it's young owner. As James puts it, "His bowl is spotless and [the owner] knows a lot about goldfish."

The choice backfires when James announces it to the expectant crowd; it turns out the goldfish's owner is the son of the President of the Fair.

James is pelted by tomatoes and booed. Faced with a hostile audience, he flees the tent.

What should have been an enjoyable event has turned horribly wrong, as the main characters' happy expectations have been stymied. Only Mrs. Hall, riding home on her bicycle, has had a good time: her jam wins first prize.

The episode reminds me of Joseph Andrews, with its colorful characters and themes of vanity, potential abuse of power, comic violence, and appearance vs. reality. Great stuff, highly recommended.