BABS: Sunday, BBC One
DOCTOR WHO: Saturday, BBC One
BUDDY HOLLY: RAVE ON: Friday, BBC Four
Why
are we supposed to love Barbara Windsor again? She was always a popular member
of the Carry On troupe, but at some point during the last 30 years we were
suddenly expected to agree that she’s a redoubtable national treasure. Based on
what exactly?
An
endearing comic performer in her youth, Windsor’s limitations as a dramatic
actress were mercilessly exposed in EastEnders.
Even in a soap renowned for its conspicuous lack of Thespian heavyweights, her
stiff, shrill performance stood out as particularly poor.
She’s
the living definition of a particular kind of British celebrity famed more for
being “a survivor” than their actual body of work.
A
BBC drama based on her life was inevitable. The only surprising thing about
Tony Jordan’s BABS, a corn-stuffed
hagiography which fully subscribed to her self-styled myth, was that it’s taken
this long to be made.
Jordan
is a former head writer on EastEnders
and a close friend of Windsor’s. He’s therefore spectacularly ill-suited to the
task of writing an honest, unbiased version of her story. Windsor’s involvement
in the project – she even made a cameo appearance – confirmed that this was
nothing more than a glossy PR exercise.
So
here it was, the authorised, boring saga of the little cockney sparra who loved
and lost, but made it through the rain. A full house for biopic bingo fans, it
was more sentimental than a pie-eyed pearly queen.
Windsor
has suffered heartbreak and setbacks. We all have. Her story probably pales in
comparison to anything you could offer from your own family history. Fame
doesn’t make you automatically fascinating.
Samantha
Spiro, an old hand at playing Dame Babs on stage and screen, did her best with
the awkwardly theatrical device of flashing back through Windsor’s life via
conversations with ghosts from her past, her absent father in particular. Jaime
Winstone, as the younger Windsor, didn’t disgrace herself either.
Zoe
Wannamaker was far more interesting in her subtly eye-catching supporting role
as unorthodox theatre director Joan Littlewood. She made me wish I was watching
a biopic about her instead.
The
renewed fortunes of DOCTOR WHO continued
with yet another fine episode, this one written by award-winning playwright Mike
Bartlett of Dr Foster renown and
guest-starring David Suchet as a sinister, yet ultimately tragic, landlord.
An
effectively creepy “haunted house” yarn involving alien woodlice, an
ingeniously realised wood-hewn zombie and – most impressively of all – a
supporting cast of generic Young Adults whose deaths I didn’t long for, it
confirmed the wisdom of outgoing show-runner Steven Moffat’s return to a more
traditional form of storytelling.
Just
four weeks in, and already it’s the best, most consistently entertaining series
since Matt Smith’s debut.
It
doesn’t matter that everyone has probably twigged who’s inside the Doctor’s
vault, as the more or less inevitable reveal is clearly less important than the
impact it’ll have on the Twelfth Doctor’s imminent demise.
As
much as I’ll miss the wonderful Capaldi – and his likeable new companion, Bill,
if she is indeed leaving as reported – I can’t wait to see what’s in store over
the next eight weeks. Doctor Who has
rekindled its mojo.
Do
yourself a favour and watch BUDDY HOLLY:
RAVE ON via iPlayer. It’s a particularly charming BBC Four music
documentary featuring enthusiastic analysis of this short-lived innovator’s
unique approach to rock and roll. It’s why you pay your licence fee.
Face
facts, Ed Sheeran, no one will curate a tribute like this about you in 50 years
time.
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