Sumptuous. That’s the word that kept popping and repopping into my mind as I watched the opening episode of The Devil’s Whore last night. Everything looked like it was straight out of a Rembrandt, Vermeer, or Dovaston painting. Beautifully shot, fabulous costumes, solid and wonderfully-dressed sets and apocalyptic weather designed, as anyone who has read anything about this clever and thoughtful write-up of the period will know, as a meteorological metaphor for the political turmoil the country was suffering through. And not only the weather. It seemed that none of the characters could take a simple walk without being set upon by their opponents. And who knew the devil had such a long tongue?

The metaphors don’t end with the weather, as I’ve said. For the main character herself exhibits a personal dichotomy, wanting sometimes to behave in a cavalier fashion and at others adopting a more reserved, upright stance so traditionally associated with the Roundheads.

When you consider the wealth of material available on the period of the English Civil War, and the hugely dramatic backdrop that it provides to any story involving either its major or minor players, it’s a puzzle that more has not been made of it in TV drama. Peter Flannery writes like a man determined to redress the balance, and he weaves known lines from history together with Biblical language and his own flair for the dramatic to provide a wonderfully rich and accurate portrayal of the times.

Angelica Fanshawe, a ward of the king after her mother has abandoned her for a life as a nun, leading her to forsake God, may not be a real character but she is at least historically accurate in her behaviours and serves well as a dramatic device to represent the vacillations of a people torn between allegiance to their king and abhorrence of his excesses. Fanshawe – played to perfection by Andrea Riseborough – begins with her allegiances nailed firmly to the King, but all this changes when her marriage to a royalist is effectively dissolved by dint of him being executed for cowardice.

Yet another example of rapidly changing allegiances (are you getting a flavour for the times yet?) is embodied in the character of Edward Sexby – an almost unrecognisable John Simm on blistering form – who begins the battle of Edgehill as a royalist but ends it as a Parliamentarian, through the rather simple device of stealing the right ribbon from a corpse. With such fickle supporters as these it’s a wonder Cromwell’s ideas ever got off the ground. Talking of Cromwell, here’s another excellent performance, this time from The Wire‘s Dominic West, perfectly capturing the Parliamentarian’s level-headed and careful approach to rebellion, often to be seen stroking the fearsome egos of his allies from the other side.

With only a smattering of breathless passion, The Devil’s Whore has so far managed to avoid the trap that caught The Tudors, retaining a historical and political credibility while still giving a nod to the dramatic imperative to tell a good yarn and keep the audience interested. It’s almost yet another metaphor for the two sides facing off against each other the length and breadth of old England.

The Devil’s Whore continues next week at the same time, for three more episodes.