This article was originally published in The Courier on 14 January 2017.
TABOO: Saturday, BBC One
LET IT SHINE: Saturday, BBC Two
Even
if TABOO involved heavyweight method
growler Tom Hardy playing the word-based guessing game while smashed to the
gills on ghastly fruit liqueur, it still wouldn’t be as bonkers as the actual
show itself.
Not
that I’m complaining. This delirious Gothic melodrama is a hoot.
Set
in 1814, it follows rogue ex-soldier turned pirate James Delaney (Hardy) as,
far from dead as presumed, he returns from Africa to London for his father’s
funeral.
He
inherits a disputed piece of land in America, with whom Britain is at war, much
to the chagrin of the powerful East India Company, led by Jonathan Pryce
swearing like a trouper (His language isn’t anachronistic – according to
estimable Horrible Histories expert
Greg Jenner, expletives were all the rage in Regency England).
Revenge
is afoot when Delaney discovers that pater was murdered, which exacerbates the
typhoon of demonic voodoo voices in his head.
Delaney
is a perfect fit for Hardy, which is hardly surprising as he co-created Taboo with his father, the winningly
named Chips Hardy, and writer Steven Knight, who devised the similarly violent and stylised Peaky Blinders.
A
magnetic actor, Hardy’s natural eccentricity imbues every role he plays.
Striding through the filth, macho coat-a-flapping, he revels in Knight’s
knowingly ripe, lurid dialogue. Hardy doesn’t chew the scenery in Taboo, he gargles and caresses it.
Sample
threat: “You send me twelve men, I will return you twelve sets of testicles in
a bag.” I’d quote the rest of that line, but this is a family newspaper.
Imagine
an adventure yarn written by a laudanum-addled Robert Louis Stevenson tearing
through the Viz Profanisaurus, and
you’ve almost imagined Taboo.
It’s
stirring stuff, strikingly drawn in visceral charcoals and populated by
scarred, craggy faces including such reliable stalwarts as Christopher Fairbank
(Moxey from Auf Wiedersehen, Pet) and
Scots walnut David Hayman.
Propelled
by Hardy’s imposing performance, it moves with the sleekness of a contemporary thriller
while exploiting the potential of its wretchedly fascinating period setting.
If
it delivers on its promise, then Taboo
could rule Saturday nights for the next eight wintry weeks.
In
reality, of course, LET IT SHINE
will triumph. Mediocrity always does.
Gary
Barlow desperately needs to find five young lads for his new Take That-based
musical, so thank God the BBC has stepped in to help him via this formulaic
talent show.
If
I was feeling similarly charitable, I’d dismiss it as a harmless yawn of bland
razzle dazzle. But I can’t ignore its role in the inexplicable campaign to
promote toadying lickspittle Barlow as an undeserved national treasure.
This
is a man so desperate for a knighthood he’d muck out the corgi kennels with his
bare hands if that’s what it took. He makes fellow Windsor’s pet Gareth Malone
look like Oliver Cromwell.
The
programme itself is benign enough – even the ‘losers’ are treated gently – but Saturday
night talent shows are in dire need of a rest. Strictly can stay, as it’s always been more of an old-fashioned
light entertainment extravaganza, but the rest are more tired than a Barlow solo
album.
In
an ideal world, this knackered genre would receive a shot in the arm from the
likes of ‘Atmosphere!’ in which New Order search for the star of a new Ian
Curtis musical, or ‘Bootsy Camp’ starring legendary bass genius Bootsy Collins
as he attempts to revive Funkadelic with fresh-faced Italia Conti graduates.
News
just in: we don’t live in an ideal world.
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