My Lady Jane Review: A Magical, Romantic Romp That Reimagines a Dark Period In Tudor History

Prime Video’s My Lady Jane is almost certainly like no story of the Tudor era you’ve ever seen before. 

The eight-part drama, based on the popular YA novel of the same name by Brodi Ashton, Cynthia Hand, and Jodi Meadows, does contain many familiar characters from history and (sort of) follows the story of Lady Jane Grey, infamous Nine Days’ Queen of England.

But that’s where the similarities stop, and the series is all the more entertaining for the brash ways it gleefully deviates not only from history, but from what we expect a show like this to be and do. 

As many likely already know, the real story of Jane Grey is not a particularly happy one. Caught in between the struggle between English Protestants and Catholics following the death of King Edward VI, she was named the young ruler’s heir in an attempt to prevent his elder sister, Princess Mary, from taking the throne.

Mary, daughter of Catherine of Aragon, was a devout Catholic. Edward — or perhaps, more accurately, Edward’s advisors — were keen to keep her from returning the country to the religion it had abandoned with King Henry VIII’s marriage to Anne Boleyn. And Jane’s family was both Protestant and related to the former king; Jane’s mother, Lady Frances Grey, was the daughter of Henry’s sister, Princess Mary Tudor. 

The real Jane’s rule was one of the shortest in history, lasting just nine days in 1533 before she was deposed by Mary, who went on to have her and her husband, Guildford Dudley, executed roughly a year later. Jane was, at most, just seventeen years old. 

But My Lady Jane, thankfully isn’t interested in the tragic truth of its heroine’s life story. “Fuck that. What if history were different?”, the series asks roughly a minute into its prologue explaining her real-life fate, all before proceeding to change everything in all the best ways possible.

At its heart, My Lady Jane isn’t so much an alternate history as it is a magical fantasy. Though it is set in a sixteenth-century England that looks an awful lot like our own, the series gleefully adds a supernatural element that reframes the central political schism of the age not as a struggle between religions, but between two classes of citizens: Eðians (EE-thee-uns) and Verities.

Eðians are essentially shapeshifters, though they can only change into one animal. (What kind of creature varies from person to person and can range from birds to mice to bears.)

As a people, Eðians are quite poorly understood: No one is entirely sure where the abilities came from, the shapeshifting power tends to run in families but can also regularly skip generations. And it’s impossible to tell whether someone is an Eðian unless you see them physically transform in front of you.

Verities are regular, non-magical folk, most of whom are generally very distrustful of and prejudiced toward Eðians, often insisting they are dangerous or straight-up evil.  

As a result, Eðians have been essentially banished from society, while Verities enjoy all the privileges of society, controlling its institutions of power and generally running the country. Intermarriage between the two groups is forbidden, and those whose identities are discovered must flee for their lives lest they be literally hunted for sport in their animal forms.

Into this magical political maelstrom drops Lady Jane Grey (Emily Bader), the Verity daughter of a noble family that can claim kinship with the sickly King Edward (Jordan Peters). Intelligent, independent, and feisty, Jane’s more interested in science and researching herbal medicinal treatments than anything like romance.

But when her mother, Lady Frances (Anna Chancellor), arranges a marriage for her to Guildford Dudley (Edward Bluemel), a notorious rake, general layabout, and son of the scheming but very well-connected Lord Dudley (Rob Brydon), her life changes in more ways than one.

Despite not particularly wanting to be married to anybody, Jane’s general situation is slightly improved by the fact that Guildford turns out to be the mysterious (and super hot) guy Jane shared some flirty banter in a tavern with the night before while trying — and failing — to figure out a way to escape her wedding. 

The downside? Guildford is also a secret Eðian. But unlike most of his fellow shapeshifters, Guildford cannot control his abilities and transforms every day whether he wants to or not. While he is a man at night, he must live out each day as a horse until the sun sets. (Suddenly his rakish reputation as a party boy who sleeps all day makes a lot more sense, doesn’t it?)

Happily, Guildford is also every inch Jane’s equal: smart, quick-witted, and sharp-tongued. He’s both respectful of her boundaries and impressed by her intelligence (both because he hopes she’ll find a way to cure him and for its own sake). 

In many ways, he’s the man Jane would have chosen, had she been able to choose for herself, and their relationship is compelling from the pair’s first moments onscreen. 

Bader and Bluemel have absolutely smoking chemistry and My Lady Jane takes full advantage of the annoyed smoldering that both actors excel at. But best of all,  beyond being an alternate take on Tudor history, this story is an unapologetic romance. 

Yes, this is a show with plenty to say about entrenched, power structures, sexism, the patriarchy, civil rights, and gender parity. But it is also a love story, and self-aware enough to realize that its romance is inextricable from the plot of the series at large.

Nothing about this show works if we don’t believe in the truth of Jane and Guildford’s relationship at its center, and their bond is absolutely central to the larger story it’s telling. When Jane ascends the throne, Guildford is beside her, her most unexpected but perhaps staunchest ally. 

As queen, Jane is forced to confront both her own ignorance of Eðianism and the hard truths surrounding how this group has historically been treated in the country she now controls. Shocked by the vitriol with which the shapshifters are treated by the  she must reckon with the question of who the monarchy is meant to serve even as she secretly attempts to find a cure for her husband’s uncontrolled transformations. 

Twists and betrayals abound as various elements of Jane’s real-life story intertwine with this series’ more fantastical reinterpretation. And the show is at its most interesting when it’s wrestling with the ways Jane’s privileged upbringing has blinded her to the perspectives of those who are not like her. 

Much like fellow period romance Bridgerton, My Lady Jane’s handling of issues involving race (or, rather, its general ignoring of how its effortlessly diverse society came to be) is especially clunky at times. Though many of the Verity nobility are Black, including King Edward and his sister Elizabeth (the latter of whom is also a Eðian herself), that particular intersectional aspect of their identities is not addressed.

But while the show is not particularly subtle about the ways that Eðians are meant to stand in for the various marginalized groups of today it’s full-throated endorsement of the fact that everyone deserves dignity, respect, and equity is both deeply heartfelt and incredibly welcome in our current political environment. 

To be clear, the series isn’t perfect. Its repeated insistence on its own edgy irreverence occasionally makes the show feel as though its trying too hard, and some of its supporting characters don’t get the depth they deserve.

And you’ll either love or hate Kate O’Flynn’s absolutely unhinged performance as Princess Mary, who is here reimagined as such a villainous character that its hard to take her or her motivations too seriously.

But the whole, My Lady Jane is frothy fun, complete with gorgeous gowns and a sharp, biting sense of humor. Full of anachronistic jokes, colorful expletives, and a soundtrack full of female-forward covers of classics like David Bowie’s “Rebel Rebel,” the show walks a fine line between ahistorical absurdity and genuine heart. 

Maybe the story it tells isn’t what really happened — but you might find yourself wishing it was.

What did you think of My Lady Jane? Share your thoughts in the comments below!

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My Lady Jane is currently streaming on Prime Video. 

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