From Pride & Prejudice to Bridgerton, I have long been an avid fan of British period dramas. And so, when ITVX announced The Confessions Of Frannie Langton would be dropping over the winter, I couldn’t wait to watch it.

The four-part series centres on the eponymous Frannie (Karla-Simone Spence), a young former slave who is accused of murdering her employer, renowned scientist Mr George Benham (Stephen Campbell Moore) and his beautiful wife, Marguerite (Sophie Cookson). As the story progresses, though, we learn that all is not as it seems; Frannie was having an affair with Marguerite – and Marguerite’s husband knew about their clandestine romance, too. 

Constantly, the viewer is forced to ask: did she do it? But, while it’s a compelling mystery, the whodunnit element at the centre of this series is far from the most interesting part. Instead, it’s the fact that it finally gives us a view of British history that isn’t whitewashed.

The Confessions Of Frannie Langton follows our protagonist’s journey to the UK through a series of flashbacks. We see her board a ship in Jamaica, and become a reluctant assistant to John Langton, who orders her to record the results of his investigations into the relationship between race, cranial size and intelligence.

Later, we see her begin a new life in Mayfair – ostensibly as a ladies’ maid to the intriguing mistress of Benham House, but also as Langton’s “gift” to Benham, who is the instigator of a racist phrenological study.

Watch the trailer for The Confessions Of Frannie Langton below:

Of course, the use of slaves in ‘scientific’ experiments ought to come as no surprise – despite being considered unethical, experimentation on Black bodies was still carried out by scientists in the 18th and 19th centuries in order to ‘examine’ the differences between Black and brown people, as well as demonstrate their inferiority to white men.

Black women, meanwhile, were treated little differently. J Marion Sims, the founding father of gynaecology, may be revered for developing a surgical technique for the repair of vesicovaginal fistula (a severe complication of obstructed childbirth), but he did so by operating on Black women, none of whom were given any form of anaesthetic or pain relief.

It is grotesque experiments such as these that helped to uphold the slave trade for so long – yet the subject is rarely taught in schools across the UK.

Now, it is no secret that most British children leave school without having ever read a book by a Black author, despite repeated campaigns by Black Books Matter UK and the Black Curriculum. And so, if and when teachers do get onto the subject of slavery and colonialism, their lessons usually begin and end with: “Britain ended the slave trade, and then the Windrush generation came, and now we are a multicultural country.”

It all feels like some sort of grotesque pat on the back for the UK, a rousing “well done” for stopping a bad thing, albeit the very same bad thing they themselves started. In contrast, The Confessions Of Frannie Langton offers a far more comprehensive look at the reality of post-slave trade in Britain. When she first arrives in Mayfair to work in the Benham House, she is treated with contempt by the housekeeper and made to sleep in a dirty cupboard instead of a bedroom. Far from the delightful picture of diversity that is (or in more cases is not) taught in school.

Marguerite and Frannie’s relationship, too, offers another sinister twist to the tale. At first, their love affair seems sweet and sapphic; over time, though, their laudanum-fuelled gothic romance becomes yet another metaphor for how white people use Black bodies as a means to an end. Marguerite confides and ‘looks after’ Frannie, shown in a series of heartwarming flashbacks of them bathing and reading together. Any love we might feel for her, however, is lost when we learn that Marguerite has also engaged in several trysts with Patrick Martin’s Black boxer, Olaudah Cambridge (or Laddie Lightning) whenever she has felt lonely.

The role white women played in the slave trade is something that’s rarely discussed, but this series expertly uses it to show viewers how the British social-racial hierarchies of the time truly looked.

The Confessions Of Frannie Langton stands apart from so many other period dramas, and not just because it presents its Black protagonist as a multifaceted and fully realised character – one who expresses rage at the system, all while being forced to participate in it to survive.

Rather, it is because the true brutality of the British upper classes is on display in this series. It depicts the disgust and contempt that so-called supporters of abolition and liberalism expressed in public for barbaric practices yet they still expected free rein to abuse Black and brown people as they saw fit, which reinforces an oppressive system that we still see pieces of today.

The show is brilliant, with the entire cast giving brilliant performances and Sara Collins is an emotive and intelligent author. Few pieces of media demonstrate a true and sometimes brutal look at Britain, and fiction should not be the only place a person receives a comprehensive history lesson – even if it seems to be doing a brilliant job in letting those who wish to learn more or find a different narrative. 

One day, though, I hope that we need not rely on fiction for an education and that schools begin to implement diverse curriculums that reflect the truth of Britain.

Images: ITV