The Spanish Princess Review: The Other Woman (Season 2 Episode 4)

One of the most impressive aspects of The Spanish Princess Season 2 Episode 4, “The Other Woman,” is that it’s an hour that’s full of dread and tension — even though it’s a story whose ending we all already well know.

History tells us that Henry Tudor cheats on Catherine of Aragon constantly — or tries very hard to do so. (The women who repeatedly say no to him are the ones that become his future wives, after all.) We know that Catherine’s only surviving child will be a girl.

We know that the king will ultimately reject the progressive ways of thinking that The Spanish Princess has so painstakingly shown him embrace over the last season and a half in favor of a largely tyrannical worldview that sets himself and his desires at its center.

And yet. 

Somehow, someway this episode manages to make you hope, as a viewer, for a second or two, that things will turn out differently. That a different life,  not just for Catherine but for all the women in Henry’s orbit, is something that might actually be possible.

It’s not though, and that’s probably the greatest tragedy of all. 

In “The Other Woman,” Catherine is pregnant again and Henry remains hungry for an heir. As a result, he spends a lot of time pushing her to rest and not involve herself in matters of state, lest things like using her brain or voicing an opinion negatively impact the child she’s carrying. 

Her own accomplishments and demonstrated skill as both a politician and ruler are ignored, thanks to the fact that Henry is clearly listening more than ever to Archbishop Wolsey, who believes women are just too emotional to be granted power of their own and certainly should not rule kingdoms.

I have to wonder if part of Henry’s aggressive pettiness here is due to the fact that he is just never going to be able to forgive Catherine for her success at the Battle of Flodden, or for the fact that she is a woman that is every inch the ruler he is. 

The gross mix of envy and anger on his face as he watches his court cheer Catherine alongside him is really something else, is what I’m saying.

And it’s a dark trend that will only get worse when it comes to his later wives — Anne Boleyn, of course, is famously strong-willed, but Henry cuts off her head for it and then marries a string of women he can more easily dismiss and bully. 

Henry’s growing embrace of Wolsey’s misogynist leanings, from his desire to shut Catherine in her confinement early to his insistence that his sister Meg must suffer for what he views as her disobedience, contains frightening tones that will all too soon become a hallmark of his character. 

The subplot involving Meg’s sudden, disastrous marriage to a younger man in violation of the rules of her regency is a thing that actually happened.

And though her problems are much more of her own making than those of her sister-in-law, the fact that Meg ends up separated from her children and publicly humiliated for making the sort of poor romantic decisions her brother will ultimately force everyone else to celebrate him for is no less infuriating to watch. 

There’s something wonderful about the way that Meg instinctively turns to Catherine for support and counsel and endlessly frustrated that their efforts to both keep the peace in Scotland and honor Meg’s rights as queen are so thoroughly ignored by everyone else.

Henry’s decision to listen to Wolsey and back the French-influenced Duke of Albany as regent is precisely the betrayal it feels like it is, both of his sister and to the ideals of the kind of king he told Catherine he would be so long ago.

That Henry was interested in equality and service, in building a forward-looking kingdom that respected women, gave its queen power of her own, and envisioned a future that involved more than a monarch who did whatever he pleased and called it God’s will. 

Clearly, that world — his purported Camelot — didn’t last very long. Rather than equality and progressivism, Henry has discovered not just the appeal of power, but the fun of doing what he wants in a world where no one can stop him. 

And, sadly for Catherine, it’s only going to get worse from here.

Stray Thoughts and Observations

• Given how hard Catherine fought for Mary’s rights later in her life — and how she surely would have rejoiced at any living child after her repeated losses — I don’t know that I fully buy into Catherine refusing to acknowledge her daughter simply because she was a girl. 
• I laughed entirely too much at Meg’s observation that her brother the king is “getting fat”. (Henry, famously a looker in his youth, grew increasingly and famously overweight as the years went on, largely due to his inability to deny himself, well, anything.)
• I love Thomas Howard! So! Much! His clear respect and liking for Catherine really does feel genuine, which makes his status as the grandfather of two of the women who will ultimately marry her husband so strange. 
• I hate Thomas Wolsey! (And I suspect his willingness to throw women in the king’s path in order that he might commit adultery with them is meant to illustrate his unfitness both for his position and his role in the larger Church.) The most disappointing part about all this is that it will not be Catherine who ultimately delivers his comeuppance — it will be Anne Boleyn, who strips him of his power and titles and does everything short of literally dancing on his grave after he dies. 
• This is the second Starz Tudor drama in which Magaret Pole is playing a significant — albeit supporting — role. Maybe it’s just time to give her her own show? I don’t know if The Spanish Princess will get to the tragic end of her story or not, but if it doesn’t, we really do deserve to see it somehow, even if it’s just to honor how hard she fought till the very end.

What did you think of this episode of The Spanish Princess? Share your thoughts in the comments below!

Critic Rating:

User Rating:

 

The Spanish Princess airs Sundays at 8/7c on Starz.

 Follow us on Twitter and on Instagram!

Want more from Tell-Tale TV? Subscribe to our newsletter here!

Why ‘The Spanish Princess’ Is Exactly the Kind of Period Drama We Need More Of