This article was originally published in The Courier on 9th May 2015.
No
Offence: Tuesday, Channel 4
The
C Word: Sunday, BBC
One
I've
always been puzzled by the lofty reputation of writer Paul Abbott.
Apart from solid thriller State Of Play, what work of note has
he actually done?
His
major successes include the decent if unremarkable Clocking Off
and the truly dire knockabout panto Shameless, which did more
to promote the offensive stereotype of the so-called underclass as a
bunch of hedonistic, work-shy scroungers than a dozen Katy Hopkins
columns. That wasn't Abbott's intention, but what an own goal.
That's
why I wanted to enjoy his latest venture, No
Offence. I wanted him to
prove me wrong. Alas, this muddled cop show is another dud.
Ostensibly a gritty, compassionate drama fused with jolts of black
comedy, it feels like two shows pulling in wildly different
directions. It takes a steady gaze to combine such disparate
elements, but Abbott's approach is fatally unfocused.
With various characters to introduce
and plot strands to establish, opening episodes are notoriously
tricky. But shouldn't a writer of Abbott's stature and experience be
able to pull that off? Apparently not. Episode one of No Offence
was a mess, in which supposedly comic scenes jarred awkwardly with a
self-consciously dark storyline about a serial killer targeting women
with Down's Syndrome. I'm sure he thinks he's being daringly
transgressive – conscientious, even – but the whole thing smacks
of trying too hard.
Even the title, No Offence,
raises hackles. It's a phrase beloved by idiots who think they're
blowing minds by being witlessly rude. This tiresome attitude is
encapsulated by Joanna Scanlan's straight-talking DI. Abbott wants us
to admire this formidable matriarch. We're supposed to laugh at her
refreshing lack of political correctness. But she's so irritating and
unfunny, not even Scanlan's considerable gifts can make her bearable.
I've been a fan of this fine comic
actress/writer for many years – her work on The Thick Of It
and Getting On was exemplary – but No Offence
squanders the starring role she deserves. Way to go, Abbott.
Its failings are frustrating, as
Elaine Cassidy's flawed, humane DC – gradually revealed as the
heart of the show – is potentially an engaging protagonist. Abbott
admirers claim he's good at writing believable female characters.
While Scanlan's role suggests otherwise – she comes across as a
condescending male fantasy of a tough, salty woman – Cassidy's
character feels like an actual human being.
If it settles down and loses that
laboured need to prove itself – God help us from that hokey Wild
West score – then No Offence may well be more than a
formulaic cop show with delusions of edge. Is Abbott capable of
making that change? I doubt it.
Dame
Sheridan Smith – come on, it's only a matter of time – continued
her unstoppable winning streak with The C Word, a
sensitive adaptation of the book and blog by journalist Lisa Lynch.
Diagnosed with breast cancer at the age of 28, Lynch – who died in
2013 - wrote about her ordeal with admirable frankness and humour.
This unflinching standalone drama captured that spirit, as it reeled
through her step-by-step guide to the everyday anguish of dealing
with cancer.
Refreshingly
bereft of schmaltz, it fulfilled its goal of challenging the
well-meaning yet unhelpfully sentimental way in which cancer is
usually discussed in public. Bolstered by entirely convincing,
dignified performances from Smith and the underrated Paul Nicholls as
Lynch's quietly supportive husband/carer, it was a tender triumph.
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