TV Review: JONATHAN STRANGE & MR NORRELL and 1864

This article was originally published in The Courier on 23rd May 2015.

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

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell: Sunday, BBC One

1864: Saturday, BBC Four

Paul Whitelaw

Based on the acclaimed fantasy novel by Susanna Clarke, Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell is an intriguing curio. With its generous budget, redoubtable cast of character actors and pseudo-Grimm production design, it's like a trad BBC period drama hijacked by the wild imaginings of Terry Gilliam.

I applaud its ambition. But does it work? I'm not entirely convinced, at least not yet.

I haven't read the book, as I have an incurable blind-spot when it comes to printed fiction, but I'm aware that it's a dense, digressive tome crammed with footnotes. So I don't envy Doctor Who writer Peter Harness in adapting such an unwieldy work for the screen.

He's been tasked with condensing masses of material into accessible 60 minute chunks, hence why episode one felt oddly disjointed. Like a muddled conjuring trick, the focus shifted constantly. A character who drove the plot in act one later disappeared. Hapless co-protagonist Jonathan Strange wasn't introduced until halfway through, and appeared only fitfully after that. The sudden, and rather silly, arrival of Marc Warren as a demonic Billy Idol with the voice of John Hurt felt like one jolt of whimsy too many.

It's frustrating, as the premise and world are arresting: set in 19^th century England during the Industrial Revolution and Napoleonic wars, it posits an alternative history where magic actually existed. No one had practised the craft for 300 years, until serious-minded artisan Mr Norrell – a wonderfully discomfited performance from Eddie Marsan – revealed his God-like skills to an impotent guild of “theoretical magicians”.

An instant sensation, he was whisked from Yorkshire to London, where, much to his chagrin, he was regarded, not as a rarefied craftsman, but as an amusing novelty. That is, until he offered to revive the dead wife of a prominent politician...

Meanwhile, a straggle-haired street magician (Paul “Dennis Pennis” Kaye on OTT form) mumbled ominous prophecies about the emergence of two magicians, one of whom will use his powers for good, the other for evil. A breathless set-up, but it got there in the end.

Harness worked hard to slot these pieces into place, and eventually the themes of snobbery, hypocrisy, morality, greed and art vs commerce had more or less coalesced.

Despite my reservations, there's a lot here to admire. The cast, including the ever-reliable Vincent Franklin as a camp, solicitous Norrell groupie, are superb, Harness' dialogue is droll, and Norrell's occasional displays of magic – e.g. the striking scene in which he brought York Minster's statues to life – are achieved using an eerily effective combination of CG and stop-motion animation.

So far it casts an uneven spell, but the potential is there.

Meanwhile, over in 19^th century Denmark, magic is thin on the ground in 1864.

A self-consciously epic saga about the Danish/Prussian war, it's well-acted, beautifully shot, and full of noble intentions. But the central storyline involving two war-bound brothers in love with the same woman is familiar to the point of self-parody, and the device of using scenes set in the present day – in which a troubled teenage girl learns about the war from an elderly, faded aristocrat – is clumsy and patronising.

And how's this for a piece of awkward, laughable exposition?

MAN #1: “I forget your name, remind me.”

MAN #2: “Bismarck. Otto von Bismarck.”

Ouch. I swear I'm still deaf from my internal Q.I. buzzer.

TV Review: BANISHED and POMPIDOU

This article was originally published in The Dundee Courier on 14th March 2015.

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

Banished: Thursday, BBC Two

Pompidou: Sunday, BBC Two

Paul Whitelaw

You'd have to be mad, foolish or both to challenge Jimmy McGovern's reputation as one of Britain's leading TV dramatists. Fuelled by anger, humour and compassion, his greatest hits include Cracker, The Lakes, Hillsborough and The Street. That's one helluva strike rate.

However, even writers of McGovern's stature can be scuppered by compromising circumstances. Banished is proof of that. Set in a late 18^th century penal colony in New South Wales, it follows the arduous lives of British convicts and Royal Navy marines as they struggle to survive in this 'Godforsaken' land.

It's a typical McGovern piece in that it revolves around terrible moral dilemmas, miscarriages of justice and the powerful notion of doing the right thing under desperate circumstances. Indeed, the script is fairly solid and engaging. If you're a fan of the expletives 'whore' and 'scum' it's an absolute treat. But the problem lies in the way it's been transferred to screen.

Despite being set in a supposed hell-hole, it has the glossy look of an afternoon TV movie. The intrusive score sounds curiously synthetic and cheap. The actors are too groomed. The relatively grime-free camp looks like what it is, an outdoor set. It just doesn't feel lived in. Good direction and production design can disguise such fakery – just look at the authentically filthy Deadwood, for example – but it's difficult to fully invest in the reality of Banished.

Another glaring flaw is the prominent presence of Russell Tovey as upright convict James. Within his limits, Tovey is a perfectly competent, rather charming actor. But his inability to convincingly convey anger and intensity is a major stumbling block, especially in a brooding drama such as this. With his mannered contemporary inflections and sudden shifts into slurred, stilted rage, he sounds like Michael Caine channelling the wayward spirit of William Shatner.

It's frustrating, as the rest of the cast are fine. I was particularly impressed by Julian Rhind-Tutt playing against upper-class type as Tommy, a supposedly wronged, working class convict. Ewen Bremner is also rather interesting as a permanently aghast vicar wrestling with his morality. Imagine Edvard Munch's The Scream as played by Derek Nimmo. That, I assure you, is a compliment.

The intensely compelling scene in which, against his will, Reverend Spud was forced to hang Tommy for sleeping with fellow convict Elizabeth was classic McGovern. Pleasingly melodramatic, it climaxed with Tommy's life being spared at the last second when the Reverend's saintly wife screamed, “This is crucifixion!” Irresistible stuff.

While the prison hard-man – a Scot, naturally – and cruel Navy captain flirt dangerously close to pantomime villainy, McGovern is careful to ensure that characters such as the quietly humane sergeant and nominally lenient governor are sketched along more nuanced lines.

It's far from perfect, but Banished does have much to commend it. If McGovern can sustain the drama, then its faults may be less troublesome in the long run.

A daft visual comedy starring Matt Lucas as a penniless aristocrat, Pompidou is a mixed bag. Though aimed at a family audience, some of the more grotesque gags – e.g. Pompidou pulling organs from his butler's stomach – feel oddly out of place in this otherwise bright and colourful cartoon world.

While Laurel and Hardy, to whom the show is indebted, often employed similarly offbeat nightmare gags, the consistency of tone in Pompidou is far less assured.

Still, Lucas is a gifted clown and his latest venture is certainly quite funny and likeable. It just needs to settle on what it wants to be.