http://www.thecourier.co.uk/lifestyle
Atlantis:
Saturday, BBC1
The
Ginge, The Geordie & The Geek: Sunday,
BBC2
Paul
Whitelaw
Resembling a bemused Lee Meade
searching for the exit at Sea World, Jason, the chiselled hero
at the centre of new family adventure drama Atlantis, is about
as bloodless as they come. Granted, I'm sure we'd all be shaken if,
while trying to find our missing father beneath the waves in a 21st
century mini-sub, we were magically transported back to the shores of
Ancient Greece. But the shock of the experience evidently drained
poor Jason of all traces of personality.
It's fortunate, then, that this
action-packed show rarely pauses to allow his blankness to dominate.
Essentially a series of deftly-executed chase sequences, episode one
introduced the basic premise – Jason discovers a hitherto
suppressed connection to the fabled lost city, and must fulfil his
destiny while shielding his identity from oppressive evil forces –
with some degree of flair. Its breezy authority is hardly surprising,
given that its makers already perfected the formula over five series
of Merlin. Swap Arthurian Legend for Greek Mythology, and
they're essentially the same show.
So while there was little here to
excite adults – the Ancient Greeks, after all, invented the
storytelling tropes we're all more than familiar with – there was
plenty for young kids to enjoy. A flurry of two-headed dragons,
snarling lions and an appearance from the Minotaur would certainly
have held my pre-teen attention.
Scholars will doubtless baulk at its
loose retelling of Greek myth – Pythagoras, a real historical
figure, is one of Jason's sidekicks – but it's hardly aimed at
them. I was mildly amused by its depiction of the traditionally
muscle-bound Hercules, as played by the ever reliable Mark Addy, as
an overweight, middle-aged, booze-soaked coward. And I had to smile
at the utter shamelessness of divesting Jason of his clothes within
the first five minutes. Quick, before the teens switch over to X
Factor!
Put simply, Atlantis is a
harmless bit of fun. Yes, the dialogue is wooden – Juliet Stevenson
as a saucer-eyed oracle is little more than a helpful cauldron of
exposition – and the bombastic orchestral score makes Murray Gold's
work on Doctor Who sound like Philip Glass whistling in the
bath. But I can't deny the appeal of a show in which, after being
slain by our hero, the Minotaur briefly regenerated into a naked fat
man – a surprise, I must admit – who clung on to life just long
enough to impart a vital plot point.
I'm also quietly delighted by the
fact that, despite its exotic Moroccan exteriors, most of this lavish
romp was filmed inside a disused Tesco warehouse near Chepstow. You
can't whack facts like that.
When Fast Show co-creator
Charlie Higson recently bemoaned the lack of a successful mainstream
sketch show on our screens, he couldn't have realised that one was
potentially around the corner. A huge hit at the Edinburgh Fringe,
comic trio The Ginge, The Geordie & The Geek, transferred
their agreeable brand of silliness into a rapid-fire TV vehicle
boasting a welcome variety of sketches.
More readily accessible than fellow
Scottish sketch comedies Burnistoun and the peerless Limmy's
Show!, its benign assault of incongruous whimsy resembles a
family-friendly take on cult favourite Big Train. Broadcast
pre-watershed, it may well become a playground smash. Seeing as my
oracular predictions are usually the kiss of death, I apologise to
the boys in advance.
ONE
TO MISS
Truckers
Thursday, BBC1, 9pm
Oh dear. Set in Nottingham, this
charmless comedy-drama is little more than an unbearable televised
headache. Full of aggravating characters shouting at each other, it
stars Stephen Tompkinson as a boring long-distance lorry driver going
through a mid-life crisis triggered by his divorce. Such subject
matter can, theoretically, be a fecund source of black comedy, but
Truckers is merely bleak and embarrassing. Despite being
peppered with sex, drugs and booze, it chugs doggedly down the middle
of the road in a noxious cloud of unfunny dialogue and clanking
pathos.
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