TV Review: THE WIDOWER and W1A

This article was originally published in The Courier on 22nd March 2014.

http://www.thecourier.co.uk/lifestyle

The Widower: Monday, STV

W1A: Wednesday, BBC Two

Paul Whitelaw

As anyone who's ever watched Take Me Out will attest, ITV is no stranger to the banality of evil. But nowhere is this theme better expressed than in the work of their undisputed king of true-life crime, Jeff Pope, whose list of credits include highly acclaimed dramas about the likes of Myra Hindley, Peter Sutcliffe and Fred West.

Whether as a writer or producer, the defining characteristic of Pope's work is its sensitivity. They may be torn from the headlines, but there is nothing sensational, exploitative or tabloid-esque about his dramas. Few of us would deny that we have a morbid fascination with killers and psychopaths, but Pope always manages to satisfy that impulse without being disrespectful to their victims.

And so it was with his latest effort, The Widower, in which Reece Shearsmith stars as convicted murderer Malcolm Webster. In 1993, this outwardly unremarkable man killed his first wife, Claire, for her life insurance. Having succeeded in passing it off as a tragic car accident – in reality he poisoned her – he then attempted to do the same to his second wife. He was eventually convicted for his crimes in 2011, 17 years after Claire's death.

How did he get away with it for so long? Pope and Shearsmith – a superb actor better known for his darkly comic roles in The League of Gentlemen and Inside No. 9 – did an effective job of illustrating Webster's plausible nature. Superficially charming and sympathetic, he duped his wives with ease. It's clear that these women weren't stupid or naïve. Rather, they were the helpless victims of an arch manipulator.

The scene in which Webster convincingly performed grief-stricken tears in the mirror, before switching them off in a flash, was particularly chilling. But it also contained a trace of black, queasy comedy, of the type that Shearsmith is known for. Both he and Pope realise that even the most appalling events can have an undercurrent of bleak humour. That such moments never came across as distasteful is testament to their careful handling of the material.

If Shearsmith's performance at times felt ever-so-slightly theatrical, I took that as a deliberate choice on the actor's part. Webster, after all, was a man who was constantly performing. A congenital liar and dangerous fantasist, his entire existence was founded on duplicity. Shearsmith's embodiment of this murderous Walter Mitty is never less than mesmerising.

A strange story skilfully told, The Widower exerts an uncomfortable pull.

A sequel to the affable sitcom Twenty Twelve, W1A deposits Ian Fletcher, the former Head of Olympic Deliverance, into the bowels of the BBC as their newly installed Head of Values.

Anyone expecting a savage media satire would've been disappointed. But that's not really writer/director John Morton's style. He's more interested in poking sly fun at corporate gibberish and incompetency. Fine, just as long as it's funny.

But therein lies the problem: the jokes are far too obvious. The concept of Britain's Tastiest Village may be an accurate parody of bland, populist BBC output, but it's a cheap and easy gag.

Plus Morton's signature writing style, that tortured stew of deliberately clumsy language, has finally worn out its welcome. It no longer surprises or amuses, and narrator David Tennant always sounds like he's winking knowingly at the audience.

It's frustrating, as the rest of the cast are impeccable. But they can't do much with such underwhelming material.