The second season of the gloriously knowing adaptation of Jilly Cooper’s novel is nothing short of tremendous. Its fabulous escapism transcends earthly praise.
Rupert Campbell-Black is a bounder, a braggart, and a scoundrel who refuses to play by the rules. As show-jumping coach Malise Gordon (Rupert Everett) observes, “The man is a loose cannon.” This sentiment is vividly illustrated as Rupert (Alex Hassell) directs his “own cannon” at the latest in a seemingly endless procession of adoring locals. By “his own cannon,” we understand, of course, his penis. Or, more accurately, his “willy.” For there is no aspect of anatomy, or indeed life, that Rivals will shy away from reducing to a cartoonish, sniggering spectacle. And rightly so! Who would choose mundane reality when one can engage in an explosive game of nude tennis with the MP for Chalford and Bisley, complete with a cheeky cry of “Tit fault!”?
But back to Rupert. The minister for sport and “most handsome man in England” serves as the pulsating heart of this unapologetically preposterous adaptation of the late Jilly Cooper’s iconic 80s bonkbuster. Rupert possesses a keen business acumen and a physique perfectly suited for jodhpurs, delivered with the booming proclamation, “ARE YOU READY FOR ME TO COME DOWN YOUR CHIMNEY?” during moments of intimacy. Men marvel at his ruthlessness, while horses are inexplicably drawn to his reckless approach to leisurewear.
English Translation:
The second season of the delightfully knowing adaptation of Jilly Cooper’s novel is a tremendous achievement. Its fantastic escapism is beyond earthly praise.
Rupert Campbell-Black is a cad, a boaster, and a rogue who defies convention. “The man is a loose cannon,” hisses show-jumping coach Malise Gordon (Rupert Everett), as Rupert (Alex Hassell) aims his own “cannon” at the latest in a seemingly endless conga line of gratefully panting locals. By “his own cannon,” I mean, of course, his penis. Or rather his “willy,” for Rivals will reduce no aspect of anatomy – or indeed life – without resorting to cartoonish exaggeration and giggling like a schoolgirl. And quite right too. Who desires dull reality when one can partake in an explosive bout of nude tennis with the MP for Chalford and Bisley (“Tit fault!”)?
Anyway, back to Rupert, who, as the aforementioned minister for sport and “most handsome man in England,” is the throbbing core of this unapologetically preposterous adaptation of the late Jilly Cooper’s 80s bonkbuster. Rupert has a head for business and a body for wearing jodhpurs while shouting “ARE YOU READY FOR ME TO COME DOWN YOUR CHIMNEY?” during sex. Men admire his ruthlessness; horses are magnetized by his reckless approach to leisurewear.