Normally, shows that depict a kid growing up in an unusual environment that involves dark secrets can get annoying with all the information that’s withheld from the viewer. But there are times when withholding that information is absolutely necessary. A new Prime Video series withholds a ton of information from the viewer, but there are some very good reasons why it does.
Opening Shot: A house in the middle of a field of wild grass, fog coming up from the ground. The sun is setting. A 9-year-old girl plays in the field with her parents.
The Gist: Alice Hart (Alyla Browne) seems to be living an idyllic childhood with her parents Clem (Charlie Vickers) and Agnes (Tilda Cobham-Hervey) in rural Australia. Agnes is pregnant, and when Alice asks her parents why they don’t have any other family, Agnes replies that it’s “us against the world.”
When Clem takes a business trip, Alice and Agnes have fun together. Alice wants to go into town and go to the library, but Agnes won’t get out of bed. When Alice walks into town in her nightgown and walks into the library, we see the reality of her situation: Bruises all over her arms and legs.
The librarian, Sally Morgan (Asher Keddie), notices the bruises and lets her stay in the library all day; she even issues her a library card. When Alice gets home, though, her father punishes her for leaving without asking by grabbing and beating her. He also breaks the library card in half. Sally’s husband John (Alexander England), the police chief, comes by the house the next day to check in on Alice, but Clem just said she was playing with the dog too intensely.
Alice keeps dreaming that she pours gasoline on her sleeping father and sets him on fire. She also wants to save her mother from the beatings Clem gives her, as well. When her parents leave for a doctor’s appointment, leaving Alice alone on the farm, she goes into the shed next to the house, and sees a strange mannequin and lots of wood. She knocks over a lit kerosene lamp, which starts a fire.
From there, things go hazy. The main house is somehow lit ablaze, leaving Alice in a coma; Clem doesn’t make it, and Agnes dies while giving birth to her premature child, who likely also won’t make it. Sally stays with Alice and vows to take care of her when she’s released, not just because she cares about Alice, but she has her own emotional hole that needs filling.
Clem’s mother June (Sigourney Weaver) is called in to see to her granddaughter; she tells John that she had little contact with Clem, and never met Agnes nor June. But when June goes back to Thornhill, the wildflower refuge where she lives, Twig (Leah Purcell), who also live there, called Alice “our granddaughter”. There’s a room at the house dedicated to Agnes. And another young woman, Candy Blue (Frankie Adams), lives at the farm and seems to know both Agnes and Clem. June wants to keep Alice as far away from the farm and her family as possible.
Two months later, Alice has awakened from her coma; she still won’t speak, but is ready to leave the hospital. After initially agreeing that Sally will take care of Alice, June decides to bring Alice back to Thornhill with her. While she vows to Alice that the pain that her son inflicted on her will never happen again, there is a whole lot that she refuses to tell her granddaughter.
What Shows Will It Remind You Of? The Lost Flowers Of Alice Hart, based on Holly Ringland’s novel, feels like a classier, darker version of V.C. Andrews’ Dawn.
Our Take: The first episode of The Lost Flowers Of Alice Hart was confusing as hell, but it’s supposed to be. The secrets of the Hart family are deep and layered, and they seem to be horrific enough that June has an imperative to keep Alice in the dark as long as possible. The first episode shows the potential for a harrowing picture to emerge, especially as Alice grows into adulthood (the adult version of Alice is played by Alycia Debnam-Carey) and starts actively looking for answers.
Showrunner Sarah Lambert (Weaver is an executive producer) and director Glendyn Ivin set this confusion up by making young Alice’s world a combination of real life, dreamscape, and vivid nightmare. There really isn’t a particular distinction among the three, mainly because Alice needs that to escape from the actual hell that she’s living with her father. There’s likely a history of abuse in the Hart family that will reveal itself to Alice slowly, and we’ll see more evidence of just how abusive Clem was to his wife and daughter as Alice grows up and those memories are unearthed.
But there are tons of other secrets we’re going to learn, like just how Clem and Agnes met, why it seems Twig and June are in a relationship, what Candy’s history is, and just why Sally had such an intense interest in Alice after the fire.
You can argue that the first episode held back a little too much information, like how the fire at the main house started, and, despite Weaver’s stoic performance as June, her light Aussie accent went in and out in a distracting manner. But the performances are universally compelling, as is the Australian scenery Ivin captured. By the end of the first episode, you’re wondering just what Alice really went through in her young life and just how far back the tragic nature of the Hart family goes, and that’s exactly where Lambert and her writing staff wants us to be.
Sex and Skin: None.
Parting Shot: We intercut scenes of Sally finding a creepy child mannequin in her attic that’s similar to the mannequin in the Harts’ shed with June walking the farm at night, holding a shotgun. Alice peers at her grandmother through the window of her room.
Sleeper Star: Leah Purcell’s Twig is far more involved in this story than we first realize, as is Frankie Adams as Candy, and these are part of the layers we’re looking forward to seeing uncovered.
Most Pilot-y Line: The various wildflowers and their meanings have significance to the story, of course, but seeing them and the words popping on screen that explain them is one of the confusing aspects of the first episode that — at least right now — aren’t executed well.
Our Call: STREAM IT. The Lost Flowers Of Alice Hart is a portrayal of domestic abuse that starts out a bit obtuse, but given the intense subject matter, that obtuseness is an effective way to bring people into Alice’s story.
Joel Keller (@joelkeller) writes about food, entertainment, parenting and tech, but he doesn’t kid himself: he’s a TV junkie. His writing has appeared in the New York Times, Slate, Salon, RollingStone.com, VanityFair.com, Fast Company and elsewhere.
