This article was originally published in The Dundee Courier on 28th May 2016.
Secret Life of the
Human Pups: Wednesday, Channel 4
Love, Nina: Friday, BBC One
We
all want to be seen as different in some way, as unique individuals set apart
from the masses. Some choose to express their iconoclasm by wearing humorous socks
or pretending to enjoy experimental jazz. Others make a stand against
conformity by dressing up in tight-fighting rubber dog costumes. Whatever works.
Despite
its voyeuristic premise, Secret Life of
the Human Pups took a sympathetic look at a growing subculture of men who
live unusual double lives. Although it sprang from the underground fetish
scene, it seems that for most human pups in the UK – current membership, around
10,000 – it’s not about sexual gratification.
Many
of them are bored. They enjoy adopting a canine alter ego as a way of escaping
from the dreary pressures of life. Whereas some people take the edge off with
drugs and booze, these chaps take the healthier option of having their bellies
rubbed by designated handlers. Others suffer from social anxiety. Theoretically,
escaping into another identity and meeting likeminded, non-judgemental
believers should improve their self-esteem. Just another form of cosplay, it
all seems fairly harmless.
Of
course, any practice deemed outside the accepted parameters of society will
always come at a price for some. Tom, who sleeps in a cage – despite evidence
to the contrary, he insists it’s perfectly comfortable – was last year honoured
as the first ever Mr Puppy UK.
But
Tom’s doggy desires destroyed his romantic relationship with Rachel, to whom he
was once engaged. She’s still his best friend, but her sadness was palpable.
“It would be a nice thing to have him back,” she sighed, as Tom prepared to
compete for Mr Puppy Europe.
Back
in Britain, it was telling that when a handler arranged for a group of them to
take their first walk in public, only two of the 50 applicants turned up. While
it was brave of these men to expose themselves on camera, their reticence to
risk public wrath is understandable.
Personally,
I suspect that most people don’t really care if grown men want to dress up as dogs
for kicks. They’re not harming anyone, after all. What is normal anyway?
Thankfully,
that was the position the programme took. While it didn’t ignore the innate
humour of their fetish – it’s not as if human pups take themselves entirely
seriously either – it didn’t poke fun at them. To each dog their own.
Adapted
by Nick Hornby from Nina Stibbe’s autobiographical book about her time spent as
a nanny for a well-heeled London family in 1982, Love, Nina is a comedy-drama which just about stays afloat on a
waft of gentle charm.
A
no-nonsense lass from Leicester – The Generic North, in other words – Nina
looks after the precocious/annoying young sons of an elegantly lonely single
mum (Helena Bonham Carter) while fending off snobbish putdowns from the gossipy
Scottish poet next door (Jason Watkins, playing a character loosely based on
Alan Bennett).
Despite
being the living definition of a comedy designed to provoke, at best, wry
smiles instead of laughs – it’s all very Radio 4; a so-so Brit flick in
episodic form – it ambles along inoffensively.
But
current BBC comedies such as Going
Forward and Mum are far more
effective in wringing subtle humour from character detail and social
observations. Love, Nina, by
comparison, is too whimsical, too insubstantial, to make much of an
impression.
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