http://www.thecourier.co.uk/lifestyle
Masters
of Sex: Tuesday, Channel 4
Breathless:
Thursday, STV
Homeland:
Sunday, Channel 4
Paul
Whitelaw
If we've learned anything from
biopics about scientists, it's that the stuffy scientific community
won't stand for anything remotely unorthodox. And so it was in 1950s
factual drama Masters of Sex, in which Michael Sheen's Dr
William Masters – the title is a pun, do you see? - ruffled the
feathers of Beau Bridges' stock establishment spoilsport with his
pioneering study into human sexuality.
"This study will never be seen
as serious science, and you will be labelled a pervert!" fumed
Bridges, following a rousing soliloquy from Sheen on the
ground-breaking nature of his work. It was one of several explanatory
declarations during this promising pilot, which occasionally fell
into the biopic trap of being written with slightly too much ironic
hindsight. Even if you've never heard of Masters, it's obvious that
his study is of historical import, otherwise Michael Sheen wouldn't
be playing him in a prestigious US drama. So whenever a character
pooh-poohed his work, it felt as if the writer was leaning awkwardly
out of the screen, smirking, “But we know different, don't we
viewers?”
That nagging flaw aside, it was a
solid introduction to a potentially engaging series. Sheen impresses
as the brilliant, obsessive, irascible Masters, whose stoic demeanour
while carrying out his research – at one point spying through a
peep-hole, clipboard and stopwatch in hand, while a prostitute had
sex with a client – was inherently amusing. Co-star Lizzy Caplan is
warm and appealing as Virginia, the young assistant whose open and
mature attitude towards sex stands in glaring contrast to the
pervading conservatism of 1950s picket-fence America.
The fundamental bedrock of the
series, the yin yang dynamic between these sex-studying mavericks
could prove interesting. There will certainly be repercussions from
Masters' casual announcement towards the end of the episode that he
and a shell-shocked Virginia should sleep together to defuse “sexual
transference” during their studies. The crafty beggar.
Another period medical drama, this
time set in 1960s London, Breathless is a glossy bubble of
soap in which caddish doctors and put-upon nurses wrestle with
matters of the heart and groin. It's basically Emergency Ward 10
– there's a reference for the teenagers – crossed with a
superficial gloss of Mad Men, at least in terms of fashion,
smoking, drinking, and the inclusion of a sexy redhead in
snug-fitting clothing.
Jack Davenport smirks his way through
the plum role of womanising surgeon Dr Otto Powell – even his name
cocks an arrogant eyebrow – who rules the roost in a rudely
entitled world of class snobbery and female subjugation. Gleaming
with righteous idealism, the young Jenny Agutter clone who arrived at
the hospital in episode one will doubtless rock his immoral kingdom
in weeks to come.
Despite the familiar territory,
Breathless is executed with confidence and style, and the
apparent focus on ongoing storylines rather than patient-of-the-week
tedium suggests it could be worth sticking with.
When US thriller Homeland lurched
into wild 24-style theatrics last year, many bemoaned its
divergence from the relative restraint of series one. Personally, I
didn't mind, since bonkers plot-lines such as Brody assassinating the
Vice President by hacking into his pacemaker and triggering heart
failure were highly entertaining.
But it was interesting to note the
marked change of tone when it returned last week. Notwithstanding an
enjoyably daft sequence in which a CIA agent single-handedly invaded
a maximum security terrorist compound, it was focused more on
character than action. Off her meds, under Senate investigation, and
obsessed with clearing the fugitive Brody's name, Carrie's facial
gymnastic were even wilder than usual. Meanwhile, Saul wrestled with
his conscience in Mandy Patinkin's typically understated, world-weary
style. It was all rather subdued and affectingly glum.
However, the temporary removal of
Damian Lewis as Brody was a bold risk which didn't pay off, since it
meant we had to spend more drama-sapping time with his dreary family.
Still, hats off to the writers for attempting something different,
although it remains to be seen whether they can sustain interest
throughout another series.
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