This article was originally published in The Dundee Courier on 21st May 2016.
Going Forward: Thursday, BBC Four
Mum: Friday, BBC Two
It’s
arguably the fault of Carla Lane and her endless glut of joke-shy sitcoms about
unhappy middle-class women that the term “gentle comedy” was, for many years,
derided as a euphemism for “not funny”. The truth of the matter is that, at its
best, understated, low-key comedy – a more helpful description, I think – is
often sharper, funnier and more penetrating than broader examples of the form.
A
notable case in point was the BAFTA-winning sitcom Getting On, written by and starring Jo Brand, Joanna Scanlan and
Vicki Pepperdine. Based in an NHS geriatric ward, it said more about the
struggles and faults of that beleaguered institution, and the nuanced flaws of
the human condition, than any number of dramas on the same subject. Plus it was
funny, piercingly so.
Now
Brand is back with a sequel, Going
Forward, which follows droll, kindly Kim Wilde in her new job as a
community healthcare worker. Although Scanlan and Pepperdine no longer share
co-writing duties, it’s just as witty and humane as Getting On. Like that show, it takes a potentially depressing premise
– in this case, a middle-aged married couple with mounting financial woes – and
finds something curiously life-affirming at its core.
A
large part of its charm is the natural chemistry between Brand and Omid Djalili
as her struggling chauffeur husband, Dave. They really do feel like a
beleaguered yet happy couple who’ve shared a couch for years. Generously, Brand
gave Djalili the funniest scenes in episode one, via his exasperated, almost
Pete and Dud-esque conversation with a colleague who insisted that chauffeuring
in Iraq is where the jackpot lies.
Despite
its warmth, there’s an underlying edge of desperation to Going Forward. Kim and Dave are barely surviving. Kim’s sister is a
neurotic mess. Kim’s clients are, of course, lonely, housebound elderly people
who rely on her for company. But like all the best comedies of its careworn
kind, it finds humour in sadness and vice versa. Without blowing its own
trumpet, it’s a sly, compassionate comment on the reality of life for millions
of Britons today. There’s nothing gentle about that.
Cut
from a similar cloth, Mum is a
well-observed new sitcom starring the brilliant Lesley Manville as Cathy, a
recently bereaved widow struggling to put her life back together. Once again,
it spins a rich seam of comedy from a wholly downbeat premise.
Each
episode is set over a few hours inside Cathy’s suburban home, hence why it
reminds me of Simon Amstell’s underrated Grandma’s
House. Tender and sharp, humane but never sentimental, it revolves around
that distinctly British conceit of maintaining politeness in the face of social
awkwardness.
It’s full of small talk, inadvertent insensitivity, condescending
pettiness and pained smiles (Manville is so good at smiling through anguish).
But like Going Forward, it doesn’t
look down on its characters. Even Cathy’s horrifically snobbish sister-in-law
is tinged with pathos.
Peter
Mullan – an actor often typecast as hard-nuts – is a heart-tugging bundle of
unrequited love as an old friend of Cathy’s, while newcomer Lisa McGrillis
shines with an endearingly tactless performance as the well-meaning girlfriend
of Cathy’s son. She’s that rarity, a “stupid” sitcom character written and
performed with warmth. That’s Mum all
over, really. It’s a gem.
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