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Lemony Snicket’s A Series Of Unfortunate Events: Season 3 T.V. Review

Lemony Snicket’s A Series Of Unfortunate Events: Season 3 T.V. Review

Bittersweet Swan Song?

Regardless of Netflix’s infamous and recent pursuit in culling-off adhered T.V. series that some respectfully had room to develop and conclude in their own distinctive way, as seen with the likes of One Day At A Time or Santa Clarita Diet, the said streaming service’s approach in producing a wide variety of shows in their own name is unparalleled. Indeed, from their pursuit in delivering anime under their brand, with the likes of B: The Beginning and The Seven Deadly Sins to the live-action stalwarts of Stranger Things and The Crown, which have both respectively drawn in large audiences, it’s easy to fathom Netflix’s arguable dominance in the T.V. Series compendium; and how it’s making ordinary televised viewing a thing of the past. However, if there’s one distinctive series which has bestowed to its audience a rewarding familiarity in tangent with its adapted source and created a dead-pan satirical set-up that never stales, it’s the highly underrated adapted series of A Series Of Unfortunate Events. While this said series at first glance doesn’t appear to have the grandiose spectacle and highly-stylised formalities that are emphasised in the aforementioned series, there’s a charm to be gripped by within Unfortunate Events that many shows of greater ilk can’t consistently imbue…

In continuing its overarching story-line in adapting books 10-13 – The Slippery Slope, The Grim Grotto, The Penultimate Peril and The End – Season 3 of A Series Of Unfortunate Events picks-up from the preceding season’s literal cliffhanger; where both Violet and Klaus are hurtling off the side of a cliff in a runaway cart. As much as both of the said Baudelaire orphans don’t meet their demise, quite yet anyway, there troubles of escaping their ill-fates in the form of Count Olaf and his motley crew are far from over. Indeed, from being stranded on a lonely mountain top, to being taken down to the depths of the sea and working within a peculiar hotel, the Baudelaire’s misery is far from over. With new acquaintances to stumble into and further revelations to come across, will the Baudelaire’s finally unravel the mystery of V.F.D and find solitude away from the maniacal Count Olaf.   

Unlike the preceding episodes and seasons where I had a general understanding of what events lay ahead for the Baudelaire’s, what was refreshing to embrace going into this final season of Netflix’s A Series Of Unfortunate Events was the very outcome of the main characters themselves and what mysteries they and Lemony Snicket would discover. In similar fashion to how the preceding season’s first two episodes – within The Austere Academy – the opening story to this last season likewise promises further changes to the characters status quo; and rather ditching the norm of the Baudelaire’s being transfixed in a particular place whilst the beguiling Count Olaf disguises himself to snare the said children’s fortune away. Indeed, it’s a natural development which begets introductions to more estrange characters with quirks and motives that are clear and easy to understand. However, considering that the last episode saw both Violet and Klaus Baudelaire hurdling down a slipper mountain slope, there’s also a greater emphasis of immediacy to see in season three which is not only consistent right the way through, but also makes each one of the episodes that much more gripping to perceive. As much as the creators, both Mark Hudis and Barry Sonnefeld, were on a tight regime in terms of producing and distributing Unfortunate Events, especially since there had to be some level of continuity in the case of young  starlet Presley Smith – who portrays Sunny Baudelaire – the series and third season as a whole never once feel disconnected and rushed to the point where certain story elements aren’t explained. Every moment leading to a specific revelation of an event, or in this case a sugar bowl, feels compelling and never monotonous to the point where you’re watching the show just for the sake of saying that you’ve seen that Netflix show to your fellow chums. Much of this acceleration of the story is down to not only the visual stylisation – how the toy-box esque production design of the backdrops and locations tailor to the ironic story-telling and framed as if you’re about t watch a Wes Anderson feature-film – but also the welcoming arrival of Kit Snicket (portrayed by Allison Williams) who was teased at the very end of the previous season. Her very appearance welcomes a change to the status quo, where she dismantles the maternal figures that the Baudelaire’s have had before and becomes a figure of intrigue and warmth. Whereas the emphasis in season two focused on the Baudelaire’s knowing of their parents’ secrets and the meaning behind VFD, much of the priority this time around is focused on the said orphans’ resolution to the predicament that they’re in. As much as mysteries are revealed along the way, it’s palpable to see how much the likes of Violet, Klaus and Sunny want escape the ruinous predicament they’re always having to deal with and much of this is bridged within the two episodes that make-up The Penultimate Peril – a saga within this last season which see’s the Baudelaire’s meeting-up with new and familiar faces and coming to terms with their calamitous quandary.  

“Sooner or later everyone’s story has an unfortunate event or two…The solution, of course, is to stay away as far away from the world as possible and leas a safe, simple life…”

Likewise to how Nathan Fillion’s Jacque’s Snicket role in the preceding season injecting a much-need extra layer of mythology to the context as well as providing a charming swagger and enthusiasm that added an extra reason as to why the series is so enjoyable to watch, Allison Williams’ contribution in playing the Snicket sister of Kit similarly provides an amiable charisma that makes you want to know and see more of the character. As much as she’s known for her recent actorial endeavours in Jordan Peele’s Get Out and Richard Shepard’s The Perfection, Allison Williams disparagingly provides an enactment in the form of Kit Snicket which is intriguing to fathom. Like Fillion, Williams’ way of talking or describing something matches perfectly with the eccentricities of the given-world and never once becomes a stale feat to behold. I guess it’s just a Snicket thing I guess! Much of the same credentials can be perceived through Patrick Warburton’s performance as Lemony Snicket – a role which although naturally anchors the expedition and enlightens its curiously young audience with definitions of words and saying that the characters spout out, it’s his preeminence of his line delivery. Indeed, the joy of hearing his wordplay is equally matched by the pathos he evokes as Snicket’s telling of the Baudelaire story winds down. Unlike preceding seasons, this final entry of the series really opens Snicket’s past; allowing us to see how interconnected he really is with the likes of the Baudelaire’s parents, Count Olaf and Esmé Squalor. As much as the Baudelaire orphans have been the heart of this story since the inception of the series itself, Snicket’s involvement, as the episodes have gone along, has become one of the more favourable elements of the show a rather fitting and fourth-wall breaking mechanic to tie loose ends together. On the other side of the VFD coin is Olaf and Esmé themselves who are up-to their menacing ways in this final season. What’s interesting to consider in relation to Neil Patrick Harris’ character is his evolution – how he slowly grows out of this norm of being a pompous and floundering figure and turns into a man desperate to please both The Man with a Beard But No Hair (Richard E. Grant) and The Woman with Hair But No Beard (Beth Grant). This is so effortlessly transpired through the consistent portrayal that Harris has always provided since he naturally elevates the emotional side of the said character through the circumstances that he’s faced with. As for other newcomers, Unfortunate Events has a fondness in making their most earnest characters immediately endearing, and all the more heartbreaking when some sort of tragedy befalls them; as seen with Olivia Caliban’s demise. This trend is proudly followed suit with Max Greenfield’s performances of the different managers that make up Hotel Denouement in two of The Penultimate Peril episodes. His presence in playing different managers that are good and evil serves as a promising metaphor for the two episodes of which he’s involved with. What could have served as a satisfying ending. Peril’s two parts play out in wildly different but consistently tense fashion. Whereas the first part plays out to be a taut mystery where the Baudelaire’s must discover who they can trust at the Denouement whilst discovering the location of the sugar bowl, the second plays-off of a shocking ending that results into a climax that is far more appropriately poignant than bombastic.

Countless times in reviewing each of Unfortunate Events’ series have I been impressed with the shows production design; how it’s toy-box esque visual presentation concur’s with the sombre yet sarcastic contextual tones. Much of what has been said already in my past reviews of the other seasons are near enough the same with this third and final instalment, since the set-designs very much lend to this metaphorical placing of the Baudelaire’s being self-contained by not only the authoritative figures that have come to further plague their lives, but also contained by the space given to them. It’s curious actually, as to how, if possible, would the likes of Wes Anderson go about making Unfortunate Events into a feature film? Much of the same appreciation for the mise en scène can be found in the series implementation of the soundtrack, which is used in great effect to portray the mood’s of the characters finitely. One musical excerpt which embroiders towards this is the ‘That’s Not How The Story Goes’ tune, heard at the end of season one, which crescendo’s nicely the inevitable conclusion of the story.

Granted, for the modern day viewer, there are many shows on either Netflix or Amazon Prime that’ll do more than suffice people’s hopes and desires. Much of what we do inevitably watch is practically based on our internal pleasures. However, as much as it doesn’t necessarily compare to Netflix’s more attractive and marketable properties, such as Stranger Things or Black Mirror, there’s an unprecedented and underestimated likeness to be found in the entirety of Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events that many shows of similar ilk can’t simply evoke. In accordance with it’s final season, it’s by far its most tightest and most exciting season to date, considering it propels your perspective to the endgame of the Baudelaire orphans’ discovery of the mysteries they’ve always questioned. By also deepening the characterisation of the likes of Olaf and Lemony enriches the viewing experience and doesn’t simply become a story where you have to sympathise with Violet, Klaus and Sunny. Unlike it’s 2004 film counterpart, what this Netflix series gets so right in adapting these adhered books is the tone; how it sticks the landing by crafting a world that is hauntingly ironic and dower forever akining to the themes or order and youth…

On that note, it’s time for me to end this week’s T.V. Review. As always everyone, thank you for reading my latest T.V. Review of Netflix’s A Series of Unfortunate Events: Season 3 and if anyone happens to have an opinion on my review or the series itself, you’re more than welcome to share your thoughts down below. For next week, I’ll be discussing Pixar’s latest cinematic outing of Toy Story 4 and whether or not audiences really needed to see the likes of Woody and Buzz Lightyear in the silver-screen. With that said, thank you once again for reading my latest Blog Post and I hope you;re all having a nice week so far! Adieu! 😃😎👦👧👶😈💥🍜

★★★★☆ – Alex Rabbitte