Outlander: Blood Of My Blood's platonic relationships keep the franchise's heart beating

Starz's prequel to "that historical sex show" highlights the importance of friendship, not steamy encounters (although it has those too).

Outlander: Blood Of My Blood's platonic relationships keep the franchise's heart beating

Oftentimes, Outlander gets boiled down by novice viewers and its detractors as “that historical sex show.” Even a decade after the original series launched on Starz, new audiences continue to find the show on Netflix and are immediately confronted by its breathless embrace of sexuality, to the delight of some and the scandal of others. But that confident understanding of sex’s role in pleasure, power, and progress across time has always been at the core of the series, and the soaring romance it fosters is among the biggest draws for its loyal fanbase. Sex and love can sell a history lesson, and few do it better than Outlander

So it’s surprising to see that, when taking stock of what worked across the first season of the prequel series Outlander: Blood Of My Blood, it wasn’t just two well-executed love stories and the return of the steamy sex scenes that have softened as the mothership series aged. Rather, some of the strongest moments in season one, which wrapped up October 10, weren’t sexy at all. Instead, they were rooted in the platonic relationships that orbit the dual story of how the parents of Claire (Caitriona Balfe) and Jamie (Sam Heughan) met and fell in love.

“Platonic” may sound like a bad word in a series that can be this sultry. But if you consider the nature of the world in which the prequel story exists—1714 Scotland—Outlander is wise to remember that love isn’t the only thing that can weather a storm. The safety of a friendship, the strength of an alliance, the enduring bond of brotherhood: They are just as important as finding a soulmate against all odds because, in this realm, pals keep you breathing and love often gets you killed.

The best example of this is the friendship between Claire’s mother Julia Beauchamp (Hermione Corfield) and Jamie’s father Brian Fraser (Jamie Roy). In most soapy dramas, the challenges placed in front of couples are superficial misunderstandings, petty disputes or romantic temptations from others. So early in Blood Of My Blood’s run, when Julia and Brian are paired off, it should have set off alarm bells for those trained by romantic dramas to expect this might complicate the pair’s relationships with Henry (Jeremy Irvine) and Ellen (Harriet Slater), respectively. But the friendship that forms between these two lost souls actually reinforces the bonds they share with their significant others.

Julia helps Brian connect with Ellen when he shouldn’t be anywhere near her. He is a sounding board for her stories about Henry, something she can’t speak about outside of the letters she writes to him and hides away. She helps Ellen pass her purity test after she hooked up with Brian in one of those aforementioned steamy scenes. In turn, he assists her in navigating the treacherous circumstances of being a pregnant woman out of her own time, who is sold into servitude and relinquishes herself to the sexual advances of her cruel laird (his father, mind you) to protect her unborn child. While Brian is initially hesitant to believe her story and sudden rise up the ranks of Castle Leathers, she comes to confide in him her true history. 

They form a mutual understanding that their futures lie outside the reach of Lord Lovat (Tony Curran) and share an unspoken resolve to help the other make that a reality. This solidifies the night Julia gives birth, a moment which Brian defends at great risk against Lovat’s persistence to conduct a marriage ceremony. After one of many lashings he takes for defending Julia, the two talk intimately about Henry and Julia’s marriage, and Brian shares that his life as a bastard does not afford him a birthday. So Julia lets him blow out a candle and share one with her newborn son, William. In the soft glow of that fireplace and the fiery aftermath of the birth, Julia and Brian share a night of a different kind of passion. They simply agree to look out for one another in a home, a world, and a time that would just as simply cast them aside or worse. This writer didn’t break out his stopwatch, but it’s likely that Julia and Brian share more screen time than even Brian and Ellen this season. 

While there was some skepticism at first, the friendship they recognize in each other is rather effortless. But it is a bit more bumpy for Julia and Davina (Sara Vickers), Brian’s mother who was raped by Lord Lovat when she first arrived as his housemaid. Davina is immediately suspicious of Julia’s story and progressive sensibilities and jealous of Lovat’s affection for her—not because she wants it for herself but because she fears what happens when she loses it. It is not until the night Julia gives birth that their prickly relationship comes to a head. Davina shames Julia in front of the sneering howdies who assist in the birth, demanding she confess that she seduced Lovat and the baby is not his. Julia, ever the fighter, holds firm on her story, eventually begging Davina to see that no matter what tale she is telling, she is fighting for her child. 

This brings back memories of when Davina defied the howdies and Lovat herself in delivering Brian. It’s a meeting of mothers that’s seismic for Julia because, more than finding a dashing defender in Brian, she discovers someone who understands the immeasurably tragic circumstances of a woman under the rule of Lovat and men like him. Amid the dangers they face, there are little victories they steal for themselves to make it through, like her slipping him a specific herb to diminish his libido. She finds a kindred spirit in Davina and vice versa. Davina has been keeping a house of men running for decades now. She could use a friend under the same roof.

Julia is fortunate to have found two people who can ease the burden of her stay in a time other than her own. Henry isn’t so lucky. Between the antagonistic, watchful eye of Arch Bug (Terence Rae) and the threats of bodily harm from his employer Isaac Grant (Brian McCardie), Henry’s case is proof that love may give you the strength to pull through the bad times, but it won’t come to your defense in a fight.

That’s where Brian finds himself more than once this season, and by his side is Murtagh (Rory Alexander) to help take the blows. The cousins have long been each other’s wingmen, but they are tested when Brian defies all logic and pursues Ellen, the woman Murtagh has been pining after for years without telling her. This squabble shakes the foundation of their friendship, but Murtagh comes to find peace at Brian and Ellen’s side by the end of the season. He’s a loyal companion who vows fealty to their platonic relationship, even when it would be easier to run fleeing from the couple who threw their clans into chaos. Ellen finds similar support in her once-cold sister Jocasta (Sadhbh Malin) when she prepares to abandon her arranged marriage to Malcolm Grant (Jhon Lumsden) to be with Brian in the finale.

All of these relationships are freed from the pressures of meet-cutes and sex drives. They exist and subsist on something more primal in a time when survival instincts mattered. When it is meant to be, love isn’t a choice you make but a fate you accept. Conversely, every platonic relationship in Outlander requires a choice. Brian sacrificed his back to the whip for Julia, and she risked everything to assist his quest to connect with Ellen. Davina set aside prejudices and years of trauma to bond with Julia; and Ellen and Jocasta found common ground after a lifetime of being divided by the men in their family. Even Murtagh has to choose to stand side by side with Brian rather than beat him to a pulp for stealing his girl. Love may get all the glory, but it’s platonic relationships that keep you alive in the world of Outlander

 
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