Top of the Lake recap: season one, episode one – Paradise Sold
There was a sense of foreboding throughout the first episode of Jane Campion's new drama, as a man drowns, a dog dies and a girl disappears. But what does it all mean?SPOILER ALERT: This blog is for viewers following Top of the Lake at British broadcast pace. Please do not post spoilers if you've seen further in the series.
Oh cinematic TV, you really are spoiling us. Top of the Lake, directed and co-written by Jane Campion, is as gorgeous as those arty trailers promised, turning New Zealand's Lord of the Rings scenery into a far more menacing landscape, all sinister mist and lazy sunshine, centred on a cerulean blue lake with the heart of a demon. Little wonder that there was a heavy sense of foreboding hanging over the entire episode, though this is largely because the promotional material summarises the plot as being about the disappearance of a pregnant 12-year-old girl, and Tui doesn't actually disappear until the end – we just knew it was coming.
Tui is the daughter of Matt Mitcham (Peter Mullan), a local hard man with a love of dogs, women and beer. He is furious that a plot of land called Paradise has been sold to a group of women led by Holly Hunter's GJ, a self-styled prophet whose teachings are not so far from Liz Lemon's "dealbreaker" catchphrase in 30 Rock. Matt thinks the estate agent Bob Pratt reneged on a deal to sell him the land, so he throws him off a fishing boat, into the water, where Pratt drowns. It's half-accidental; regardless, Matt doesn't seem fazed. It's probably not the first time.
After Tui walks into the lake fully clothed, her school discovers that she's pregnant, and the police get involved, bringing specialist Detective Robin Griffin (Elisabeth Moss) on board. Tui is largely mute, refuses to say who impregnated her – her note reads "No one" but more on that shortly – and is disgusted by the ultrasound. When the police tell her father, Mullan really starts to reveal Matt's nasty side. He says "she's a slut, like her dad was a slut". He insists on an abortion, even though at five months, it's too late. He's not even angry, at her or the man who did it – he's annoyed at the inconvenience. He shoots Bob Platt's dog in front of Robin, as a show of power and menace. Mullan's a wrong 'un, and that rumbling voice just dares you to cross him – though this does make the image of him then sitting caressing a chihuahua blackly funny.
Wobbly accent aside, Moss plays Robin with an intriguing blend of little-girl-lost and blank steeliness. At the start, she's skulking around her mother's house like a teenager, seemingly bored; when she gets to the police station, her casual clothes and backpack stand out from the rest of the suited, male detectives. There's a darkness implied, too. She says she feels "manipulated" when her mother wants to talk about the fact that she may be dying of cancer. "Any normal person would feel sad," her mother observes, before eviscerating her daughter's hardness. "You think it's strength. It's not." Later still, at the cabin, we get some suggestion of why she may be like this. Johnno wants to apologise for some incident that happened in the past, with a group of guys. Robin wants to leave it in the past. Are they hinting that she was assaulted? Is that why she is so uncomfortable to be back at home?
After Tui spends the night at the women's camp receiving some tough love from GJ – telling her it's a "time bomb" isn't exactly how I'd talk to a distressed pregnant 12-year-old, and it's certainly very different to Robin's gentle approach – she disappears. Her horse is walking, riderless. Her chihuahua is back at Matt's house. The only things unaccounted for are Tui, and her gun. When Matt tells Robin that "No one loves her more than me. No one", Robin remembers the piece of paper, unfurling it in the car. Did Matt rape his daughter? And where has she gone?
Notes and observations
There are a lot of gender politics waiting to be unravelled. The Mitcham men, with their aggressive dogs, seem the epitome of some version of masculinity. They insult GJ by implying that they can't tell if she's a man or woman. The cops resent Robin's presence as a "female detective". Robin's mother may be living with an abusive man.
There's also a strong theme of outsiders. The Mitchams live what appears to be a secure, remote plot of land. The women on GJ's settlement have chosen isolation. Robin is estranged from her family and community, and arguably the rest of the police force.
I was surprised by the humour, particularly given the bleakness of Tui's story. The scenes on the women's settlement were often laugh-out-loud funny, particularly the sad tale of Brad the chimpanzee: "There are a lot of women in a lot of pain."
What hold does Matt have over the chief detective? They appear to be on the same side – he calls him "mate", tries not to cause trouble.
That shot of Tui with her chihuahua, gun and horse, walking through the river, was stunning. In fact Jacqueline Joe's performance as Tui is spectacular – I particularly liked the way she delivered the line, "What happened to you?" when she was talking to GJ.
What's the "calamity" that befell GJ? I'm inclined to believe there's something more to her tragedy than a randy chimpanzee.
What do you think happened to Robin's dad in the lake?
I've been watching a lot of The Returned, but when that bus rounded the corner, I half expected to see little Victor's face pop up.
Anyone else notice a visual similarity between GJ and Matt? Surely this is deliberate?
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