The Guardian's review of final episode
A bag of stale air to the rescue
Nancy Banks-Smith
Saturday March 3, 2007
The Guardian
Lilies (BBC1)
As Dead Ringers put it, "And now - Lilies! Don't worry, I'll wake you in an hour." There is an uncomfy degree of truth in this, if only because, if you are at home on a Friday evening, chances are you are a pensioner or a labrador.
No one slept in the final episode. Lilies threw everything into the hotpot. May has a difficult breech birth, but is saved by the belated arrival of Dada, who has some obstetric know-how ("Go and fetch a paper bag!") from his work with rabbits. Dada, by the way, is May's father. The baby's father, who done May wrong, makes himself scarce. First, she tries to drown the baby in the river but is found by Frank, the faithful postman, who follows her around like a whipped whippet. Then she tries to give it up for adoption, but is prevented by her sisters, who ride to the rescue in the pork butcher's van.
Lilies is a little something for the ladies. The men, one feels, get pretty short shrift. Dada, who has recently gone to the dogs, takes the pledge. Father Melia, who is in love with Iris, is sent to Ireland to simmer down. May's lover leaves for New York. And the pork butcher, who has communist sympathies, is off to Petrograd. Or "flaming Petrograd", as Ruby puts it when invited to join him.
With so many loose ends, it is clear Lilies hopes for a sequel. Well, it's a pastel period piece. The men, never the women, are given some charmingly lyrical declarations of love, the supporting roles are particularly well played and the detail is diligent. For instance, the family has only one book: Household Universal. The girls use it like a cookery book when May goes into labour. ("Mother Nature is a hard task mistress. If the labour becomes intractable, it may be as well to send for a doctor.") My family had something similar called What to Do Till the Doctor Comes. You realise, sighing, that both books assume the doctor will come.
You will be keen as mustard to know how a paper bag figures in a difficult breech birth. "She's swallowing too much oxygen! She needs to breathe some stale air." If you say so, Dada. Nothing like a bag over the head in a crisis.
(With reviews like this a second series doesn't look very likely)