AGATHA CHRISTIE: LUCY WORSLEY ON THE MYSTERY QUEEN | LOUIS THEROUX INTERVIEWS... | TOKYO VICE

This article was originally published in The Courier on 19th November 2022. 

NEXT WEEK’S TV

Agatha Christie: Lucy Worsley on the Mystery Queen – Friday, BBC Two, 9pm

Historian Lucy Worsley has enjoyed a lifelong fascination with Agatha Christie. In this typically persuasive new series, she seeks to explain how Christie, a rather enigmatic figure, became the most successful novelist of all time. 

In order to achieve that goal, she examines how the many societal changes Christie witnessed during her lifetime directly affected her work. This line of investigation naturally feeds into Worsley’s other stated aim: “to show you that she was a pioneering, radical writer and woman.” 

Like all historians worth their salt, Worsley is commendably obsessed with busting myths and received wisdom. Her detailed portrait of Christie is revealing; you actually get a sense of what she might’ve been like as a person. Mission accomplished.

Between the Covers – Tuesday, BBC Two, 7pm

Sara Cox’s book club guests this week are actor Paterson Joseph, BBC newsreader Sophie Raworth, and the comedians Jenny Éclair and Al Murray. 

One of the classic novels under review is The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by the late, great Douglas Adams. Paterson Joseph’s passion for that magnificent work of art is just so delightful to behold. A man after my own heart. 

Also, to the surprise of absolutely no one, World War II buff Al Murray’s favourite novel is Catch-22 by Joseph Heller. Quite right too, it’s a masterpiece. 

Also, please steel yourselves for a wild revelation: Sophie Raworth was once so bored with a book, she chucked it off the side of a boat.

Louis Theroux Interviews… – Tuesday, BBC Two, 9pm

The comedian, broadcaster and author Katherine Ryan is the latest subject of this series of one-on-one interviews. 

Alas, preview copies of the episode weren’t available in time for my deadline, but if you’ve enjoyed this series so far, you’ll know why I’m flagging it up. 

Ryan is a smart, funny person. The same goes for Theroux. So it should be interesting. 

I get the impression that Theroux, who’s spent the last 20 years mired in deeply distressing subject matter, is trying to remind viewers that he was once renowned as an exemplary interviewer of celebrities. 

He has, perhaps, gone as far as could with ‘serious frown’ Theroux mode. There’s more room for light and shade in this format.

Miriam and Alan: Lost in Scotland and Beyond – Tuesday, Channel 4, 9pm

In the penultimate episode of their latest travelogue, celebrity pals Miriam Margolyes and Alan Cumming find themselves at chummy loggerheads on the subject of recreational drug use. This mild conflict takes place in a Santa Barbara ‘drugs den’. 

Their next destination is Palm Springs, which is home to many ageing members of the LGBTQ+ community. Miriam and Alan enjoy a bit of drag bingo and join a gay knitting group.

Their final port of call is Los Angeles, where Miriam takes Alan to meet a young relative she’s never in her life encountered before. 

Suffused with irreverence and total sincerity, these impish adventures are expertly designed to warm your cockles. Cut to: Margolyes raising a knowing Carry On eyebrow.

Tokyo Vice – Tuesday, BBC One, 9:10pm and 10:50pm

This jittery neo-noir thriller is based on the bestselling memoir by American journalist and crime writer Jake Adelstein, who has spent most of his career in Japan. 

The story begins in 1999, when the fresh-faced Adelstein was hired as a crime reporter by one of Japan’s largest newspapers. He was the first non-Japanese person to be employed by them. His first assignment involves a fatal stabbing. This leads him towards a brave – some might say foolhardy - investigation of the notorious Yakuza syndicate. 

As the danger escalates, Adelstein discovers that his main ally is a senior detective from the organised crime division. He’s played by the always compelling Ken Watanabe. The series begins with a double-bill.

You Won’t Believe This – Tuesday, Channel 4, 10pm

A Would I Lie to You? rip-off starring everyday people, this new series involves groups of strangers spinning tall tales, only one of which happens to be true. 

They’re grilled by “an elite squad of police interrogators” while hidden observers search for clues behind a two-way mirror. If they correctly identify the truth-teller, they win £5,000. If they choose the wrong person, that disingenuous suspect pockets the money instead. 

The first group of suspects claim to have opted out of civilisation in a variety of unusual ways. Did one of them really live as an alpine goat? 

The second group have allegedly experienced the worst date ever. Sample claim: “We were caught up in an art heist.”

Unreported World – Friday, Channel 4, 7:30pm

Welcome to Gaza’s clandestine arts scene, where young Palestinians try to express themselves in the face of an Israeli blockade and fierce Hamas censorship. 

In this investigative report, journalist Jonathan Miller emphasises that simple social and creative endeavours, things we take for granted in the western world, are a source of tremendous risk in Palestine. 

His interviewees include a young female singer and actor who has been forced underground. Why? Because women over the age of 14 aren’t permitted to perform in public. 

Miller also meets a Palestinian man who is determined to renovate an old derelict cinema, so that his fellow Gazans can learn from, and enjoy, suppressed works of art. 

LAST WEEK’S TV

The People’s Piazza: A History of Covent Garden – Sunday 13th November, BBC Two

If you’ve ever visited London as a tourist, you’ve probably spent some time in Covent Garden. In this standalone documentary, that perceptive historian David Olusoga traced its centuries-spanning saga. 

Olusoga focused on this small piazza to achieve his usual goal: while examining individual case studies, all of them based within a particular locale, he presented a penetrating essay driven by a deep, empathetic understanding of what can be learned from historical injustices. 

It was also quite funny and colourful at times. He’s very good at this.

The Scotts – Wednesday 16th November, BBC One

Written by and starring Iain Connell and Robert Florence of Burnistoun renown, this likeable sitcom returned for a second series last week. If you haven’t seen it before, then imagine Modern Family set in a Glasgow suburb. A fairly apt description, if I do say so myself. 

The plot of episode one centred upon the imminent arrival of a baby to the extended family fold. A standard sitcom trope, but as always Connell and Florence fleshed it out with some healthy cynicism and understated warmth. They actually like the characters they’ve created, and it’s clearly based on shared experience. 

Best line, delivered by the family matriarch: “I lived through Bible John, Thatcher and a pandemic, I don’t dae jokes.”

AGATHA & POIROT: PARTNERS IN CRIME + LOUIS THEROUX: SHOOTING JOE EXOTIC

This article was originally published in The Courier on 3rd April 2021.

NEXT WEEK’S TV

Agatha & Poirot: Partners in Crime – Monday, STV, 9pm

Hosted by Richard E. Grant and his ostentatious Paisley scarf, this tribute to Agatha Christie and her most enduring creation is an agreeable time-passer. 

A galloping galaxy of famous fans including Stephen Fry, Caroline Quentin and Zoe Wannamaker pitch up to explain what Christie’s work means to them, while Grant recounts the main beats of her life as well as her decades-long relationship with the fastidious Belgian sleuth. 

It unfolds in a strangely comforting world of genteel Torquay tea rooms, opulent steam trains and gallons of deadly poison. It easy to take Christie for granted, but she was obviously a genius. David Suchet is conspicuous by his absence, presumably because he’s said everything he has to say about Poirot.

Canal Boat Diaries – Monday to Thursday, BBC Four, 7pm

A mild-mannered man pootling around on a narrowboat - what’s not to like? In series two of this comforting diversion, Robbie Cummings – who looks like a happily retired member of Basement Jaxx - continues his existential escape from society via the heart of Britain’s canal network. 

Here we find him during lockdown, tending to the needs of his vessel while enjoying the serene vistas of this murky green and pleasant land. This is slow television in the most acceptable sense: a solitary traveller navigating waterways while providing little nuggets of history. 

I envy Robbie’s life. If I wasn’t tragically lumbered with a timid housecat and a total lack of practical ability, I’d be out there in a heartbeat.

Louis Theroux: Shooting Joe Exotic – Monday, BBC Two, 9pm

Ten years ago, while making a documentary called America’s Most Dangerous Pets, Theroux spent time with the controversial zoo owner Joe Exotic. 

At that time, Exotic was just one of the many strange and dubious characters Theroux has encountered over the years. But in 2020 he attained global infamy as the, shall we say, eccentric star of the Netflix documentary Tiger King: Murder, Mayhem and Madness. He’s currently serving a 22-year prison sentence after being found guilty of a murder-for-hire plot and 17 charges of animal cruelty. 

In this programme, which wasn’t available for preview, Theroux meets with a team campaigning for Exotic’s release. He also interviews friends and family-members who haven’t spoken on camera before.

Snackmasters – Tuesday, Channel 4, 9:20pm

TV’s resident maitre d’ Fred Sirieix is only too happy to be a living parody of himself – the first words out of his mouth as this series returns are “Ooh la la!” That’s not a ‘diss’, good luck to the man. He’s making hey while ze sun shines. 

In Snackmasters, he presides over professional chefs as they attempt to unlock the secret recipes of cheap popular snack foods. The duellists on this occasion are a Prince Harry lookalike and “a no-nonsense Yorkshireman”. Their mission: to successfully recreate a KFC meal. 

If you can ignore the finger-licking product placement and the innately condescending concept of Michelin-starred artisans lowering themselves into the deep fat fryer of high street gruel, then it’s quite good fun.

Food Unwrapped – Friday, Channel 4, 8pm

This light-hearted factual series is basically an extended version of those little educational films they used to show on Play School. It trots around the globe with a view to exposing the (usually benign) truth about what we’re eating. 

This week, Helen Lawal visits a futuristic Nescafe factory and solves the mystery of how those crazy caffeinated cats put the froth in instant coffee. Their exact methods are a closely guarded secret, but it involves nitrogen gas. 

Meanwhile, Matt Tebbutt dons a Man from Del Monte fedora and travels to Mount Vesuvius to find out why so many of our tinned tomatoes are Italian, and Kate Quilton visits Genoa to explain how panettone has such a long shelf life.

Rosie’s Trip Hazard: My Great British Adventure – Friday, Channel 4, 8:30pm

Comedian Rosie Jones hosts this scenic round-Britain travelogue in which she tips a knowing wink to the clichéd conventions of the genre (narrator Olivia Colman almost overdoses on irony). 

The series begins in the Lake District, where Jones and her celebrity guest Scarlett Moffatt visit the home of William Wordsworth, ride a traction engine and take part in a Viking battle re-enactment. 

Jones, who is gay and has cerebral palsy, opens with a good gag. Her world-weary agent (played by an actor) says, “In a way, you tick a lot of boxes. Woman, disabled, gay, northern…” Her reply: “I don’t identify as northern.” It’s a slight vehicle, but Jones is funny. Her best work is presumably ahead of her.

LAST WEEK’S TV

Reel Stories: Dave Grohl – Saturday 27th March

This occasional series revolves around a simple yet sometimes quite effective format. The affably bland Dermot O’Leary interviews musicians while showing them choice highlights from their own career as well as clips of some of the artists who have inspired them. It’s designed to jog their memories, and it worked well here with the Foo Fighters frontman, former Nirvana drummer and Nicest Man in Rock ™. 

His default setting is hirsute bonhomie, but he became introspective while discussing the tragic loss of his friend and former bandmate Kurt Cobain. His thoughts on dealing with grief were movingly and eloquently expressed. As usual, he came across as humble, good-natured and self-aware. Grohl doesn’t take any of this for granted.

CONFRONTING HOLOCAUST DENIAL WITH DAVID BADDIEL + INSIDE NO. 9

This article was originally published in The Courier on 15th February 2020.

NEXT WEEK’S TV

CONFRONTING HOLOCAUST DENIAL WITH DAVID BADDIEL

Monday, BBC Two, 9pm

Baddiel begins this documentary with a great old joke, a joke that could only offend one despicable subsection of society: Holocaust deniers. The Holocaust is a highly-documented matter of fact, and yet one in six people around the world believe it’s either been exaggerated or didn’t happen at all. These virulent anti-Semites feed off decades of deep-rooted lies. Their hateful voices refuse to be silenced by overwhelming volumes of contrary evidence. Denied of a mainstream platform, they broadcast their bigotry – insidiously and overtly - via social media and underground networks. Baddiel, whose ancestors were among the six million Jews murdered during World War Two, confronts this dense web of false history with acute self-awareness and soul-searching anger.

INSIDE NO. 9

Monday, BBC Two, 10pm

Mike Leigh has always been a major influence on Pemberton and Shearsmith, but never more explicitly than in this quietly devastating episode. It takes its cues, not from the bleakly comic Leigh of Abigail’s Party or Nuts in May, but from the likes of Secrets and Lies; a sad, intimate domestic drama with an aching human heart. The naturalistic performances and social-realist milieu also owe a strong debt to Ken Loach and Shane Meadows. It takes place over the Christmas period in a working-class family kitchen, their story gradually revealed in non-linear form. Don’t expect many laughs; this is the endlessly flexible Inside No. 9 in serious mode, but it never feels like a self-conscious experiment. It’s genuine, compassionate, one of their best.

PRISON

Monday, Channel 4, 9pm

This observational documentary series unfolds in a progressive British prison where over 300 women are incarcerated. It begins with new inmates arriving at the facility, many of them unused to serving time. They’re greeted by old hands offering friendly advice on how to survive a hectic environment. But Porridge it ain’t. We also meet sanguine prison officers who open up about their responsibilities: “You can be everything from an auntie, a social worker, probation worker to an officer in here. Everything at once.” Prison is sad yet sometimes funny, but it doesn’t tut, sneer, simplify or sentimentalise; it seeks to understand what life is actually like for vulnerable people who find themselves in a claustrophobic situation fraught with daily complications.

CILLA: THE LOST TAPES

Wednesday, STV, 9pm

When ‘Our Cilla’ passed away in 2015, Britain mourned the loss of someone who’d been part of our lives for decades. Two years later, her family unearthed a wealth of home movie footage. This programme dusts it down for public consumption in the company of celebrity chums such as Cliff Richard and Paul O’Grady. Assisted by audio recordings of a reflective Cilla in conversation with her ghost writer, narrator Sheridan Smith (star of ITV’s excellent Cilla) respectfully delves into the life and career of a sometimes difficult yet charismatic entertainer. Highlights include Cilla skiing with George Martin, Cilla hanging out with Ringo (who once proposed to her) and Basil Brush (who didn’t), and Cilla giving a Black Power salute (?!).

LAST WEEK’S TV

DOCTOR WHO

Sunday 9th February, BBC One

Another well-intentioned message – you don’t have to shoulder your depression, anxiety and grief alone – was undermined by some awkward execution in this frustrating episode. It contained some good ideas and a rare opportunity for Yaz to actually do something, but the constituent parts never quite clicked into a satisfying whole. When we eventually look back upon the Chibnall era, the charitable consensus will be this: an occasionally competent hack who meant well. Truly a golden age.

THE PALE HORSE

Sunday 9th February, BBC One

Agatha Christie’s work will inspire adaptations until humanity gasps its last, but Sarah Phelps deserves special mention as one of the Dame’s finest interpreters. This two-part drama is, according to Phelps, the last time she’ll dip her quill into the canon (at least for a while). The Pale Horse is typical in that it's faithful to the source material while adding notes of perceptive social commentary which never feel out of place. Phelps has always managed to preserve the seediness, queasiness and horror at the heart of Christie's best work; she never once succumbed to drawing room cosiness. Christie would’ve surely approved.

FRANKIE BOYLE’S TOUR OF SCOTLAND

Friday 14th February, BBC Two

Boyle is living proof that artists can evolve and mature without becoming boring. I never had any time for his early incarnation as a smugly sneering shock comic, but the real Boyle – an intelligent, politicised, softly-spoken, funny man – is well-served by TV vehicles such as this, in which he satirises the clichés of comedy travelogues while imbuing them with some class-conscious depth. Last week’s leg examined the profound significance of Scottish comedy, literature and colloquial language.

TV Review: DOCTOR WHO + THE WITNESS FOR THE PROSECUTION + TO WALK INVISIBLE

This article was originally published in The Dundee Courier on 31 December 2016.

https://www.thecourier.co.uk/category/lifestyle/entertainment/tv-film/

DOCTOR WHO: Christmas Day, BBC One

THE WITNESS FOR THE PROSECUTION: Boxing Day/Tuesday, BBC One

TO WALK INVISIBLE: Thursday, BBC One

Superheroes are such a ubiquitous cultural fixture these days, I wouldn’t have blamed you for slumping face down in your leftovers when another one turned up in the DOCTOR WHO Christmas special.

Is nothing safe from their super-strength stranglehold?

Apparently not, and for once I’m glad. The Doctor’s encounter with a New York caped crusader was actually rather charming.

An affectionate tribute to Christopher Reeve’s Superman films, it swapped the tiresomely dark seriousness of so many modern superhero sagas for a nostalgic dip into a more innocent, optimistic age of comic book action and romance.   

Steven Moffat is known - some would say notorious - for his intricate storytelling puzzles, but this was a refreshingly straightforward tale, told with a lightness of touch, in which a geeky young man eventually got his dream girl by abandoning his masked alter ego to reveal – oh yes -  the human hero within.

Corny stuff, but winningly delivered by Moffat with his customary wit and skill. Post-modern yet sincere.

It sagged whenever the perfunctory alien invasion plot took over from the more engaging central storyline, but on the whole it achieved its primary goal – to provide 60 minutes of smart, satisfying, handsome entertainment for Doctor Who apostles and floating viewers alike.

Oh, and Matt Lucas, in the space of just two episodes, has proven himself a more likeable foil for Capaldi than Clara ever was.

Whereas many Agatha Christie adaptations are produced in quaintly ornamental style, the team behind Christmas 2015’s justly-acclaimed And Then There Were None and this year’s THE WITNESS FOR THE PROSECUTION revel in the depths of her darkest yarns.

These beautifully crafted productions treat Christie seriously, yet never feel strictly deferential. Like all good adaptations, they honour the source material while exploring the subtext (in this case: homosexuality, post-war grief, xenophobia and the abandonment of our brave boys, although not necessarily in that order).

Set in early-1920s London, this particular mystery is forbiddingly urban. Mired in seediness, violence and a grimy nicotine fug – it’s a real pea souper, even indoors – it boast a visual ambition and thematic richness beyond most of its rivals.

Little man du jour Toby Jones starred as a threadbare solicitor who believed, largely for sentimental personal reasons, in the innocence of his client, a young man accused of murdering his wealthy lover.

All the principal characters, including Andrea Riseborough’s Austrian showgirl and Monica Dolan’s vindictively jealous housekeeper, were lost in a cloud of lonely ambiguity.

Despite these solemn trappings, it zipped along in suitably compelling murder mystery style. Exemplary stuff.

Alas, the same can’t be said for TO WALK INVISIBLE, a curiously sluggish drama about the struggles and tragedy of the Bronte sisters from the otherwise brilliant Sally Wainwright of Happy Valley renown.

So what went wrong? A writer/director of Wainwright’s calibre combined with such potentially fascinating material should’ve sparked one of the festive season’s TV highlights, but she somehow failed to get under the skin of this remarkable family.

For 120 interminable minutes, she never made me care about these people, whereas I was utterly invested in her Happy Valley characters. Like the Brontes, her talent lies in examining reality through fiction.

Wainwright knows there’s a timeless story to be told here, about sexism, addiction, sibling loyalty, the pressures of familial expectations and the catharsis of creative expression, but for once her usually reliable instincts were thwarted by dawdling over-indulgence and a lack of focus.

Even the wuthering Yorkshire scenery looked disappointed.

TV Review: DOMINIC SANDBROOK: LET US ENTERTAIN YOU + JOANNA LUMLEY: ELVIS AND ME

This article was originally published in The Dundee Courier on 7th November 2015.

http://www.thecourier.co.uk/lifestyle

Dominic Sandbrook: Let Us Entertain You: Wednesday, BBC Two

Joanna Lumley: Elvis and Me: Wednesday, STV

Paul Whitelaw

Last week, to my delight, I was reminded that The Beatles' return to England following their first US tour was covered live on Grandstand. Such was its import as a major world event, even the BBC's flagship sport show was forced to interrupt its cricket coverage and treat it with due reverence.

Alas, that grainy archive footage was one of the few surprises in episode one of Dominic Sandbrook: Let Us Entertain You, a new series in which the noted historian examines how, following the post-war decline of Britain's industrial, economic and political influence, it gained a potent new superpower as the world's greatest exporter of popular culture.

The likes of James Bond, Agatha Christie, Doctor Who, The Beatles and Harry Potter have all become symbols of Britain's vaunted position as purveyors of beloved escapist entertainment. Only a madman would reject this inarguable statement of fact, but it wasn't Sandbrook's central thesis I took issue with.

A recurring problem with documentaries of this nature is that anyone interested in watching them will already be quite knowledgeable about the territory they cover. Sure enough, swathes of Sandbrook's narrative felt awfully predictable.

He also has a habit of stating the bleedin' obvious. Quoth our learned guide, “The '60s only swung for a tiny minority.” You don't say? And here was me thinking Dundee city centre was once our shaggy equivalent of Haight-Ashbury.

A stout defender of the British Empire, it's hardly surprising that Sandbrook argued in favour of Victorian values being at the heart of every world-shaking explosion since. He was almost visibly vibrating with pleasure when paying tribute to the “cultural uplift and commercial self-interest” that made Britain great again. It was most unseemly.

Yes, popular culture has always been driven by commerce, but Sandbrook seems to revel in that fact above all else.

It was essentially an extended tribute to post-war commercial entrepreneurs such as J. Arthur Rank, Brian Epstein, Island Records founder Chris Blackwell, Andrew Lloyd-Webber and Charles Saatchi, whose marketing nous was a pivotal factor in the electoral success of Margaret Thatcher. They were all drawn from the same cloth, he argued.

That's a rather simplistic view. He's been given four episodes to analyse this subject, you'd expect more nuance.

Describing Britain's vast cultural contribution to the world in purely commercial terms is, of course, anathema to groovy non-bread-heads. This is art, not product. It belongs to us, not The Man. I dare say Sandbrook, who seems like an affable soul with a genuine interest in popular culture, has some sympathy for this dangerously idealistic viewpoint. But that didn't stop him from coming across as the sort of point-missing, number-crunching dullard who values record sales over artistic merit.

For an Elvis fan such as myself, there was an alarming moment near the start of Joanna Lumley: Elvis and Me in which the actress teetered on the verge of regurgitating the tired fallacy that Elvis' post-army career was worthless. Thankfully, it soon became clear that rebellious teen idol '50s Elvis was simply her favourite model, hence why it was the focus of this heartfelt travelogue in which she travelled to Memphis to meet those who knew and loved him.

For once it wasn't simply a case of attaching a famous face to a subject they know little about. Lumley's deep affection for the young, smouldering King was abundantly obvious.

That it was entirely non-critical didn't matter, as it wasn't intended as a sweeping Sandbrook-ian essay on Elvis' cultural significance. Rather, it was a charming tribute to a malleable idol from an eternally smitten fan. 

TV Review: AGATHA CHRISTIE'S PARTNERS IN CRIME and LIFE IN SQUARES

This article was originally published in The Courier on Saturday 1st August 2015.

http://www.thecourier.co.uk/lifestyle

Agatha Christie's Partners In Crime: Sunday, BBC One

Life In Squares: Monday, BBC Two

Paul Whitelaw

Though never as popular as Poirot and Marple, Tommy and Tuppence Beresford were fond favourites of their creator Agatha Christie. She first introduced these happily married sleuths in 1922 and returned to them sporadically throughout her career. Their final appearance was in the last novel published before her death in 1973.

The Tommy and Tuppence canon is slim, however, hence why it's rarely been adapted for television. So, seeing as Poirot and Marple have been milked dry, no wonder the BBC have turned to the Beresfords for one more squeeze of the udder.

The first thing you notice about Agatha Christie's Partners In Crime is how expensive it looks. That £6m budget is visible in every vintage car, costume and immaculately dressed location. But these glossy trimmings can't compensate for the second thing you notice: there is zero chemistry between David Walliams and Jessica Raine as Tommy and Tuppence.

Walliams has shown in the past that he's a decent dramatic actor, but he looks painfully ill at ease here. Then again, even the world's greatest Thesp might struggle with such a poorly written role.

By rights, we should regard Tommy as a charming idler who gradually overcomes his natural cowardice by plunging into danger alongside his intrepid wife. But he comes across in this adaptation as such a soggy bore, it's no wonder Tuppence looks so exasperated with him. Their adventures are supposed to be a thrilling escape from their aimless existence, not from their marriage. A few flashes of warmth aside, they don't even seem to like each other very much.

Raine fares better as Tuppence, whose thirst for adventure drives the plot. Ably assisted by a bevy of attractive hats, she plays her with a kind of prim seriousness that occasionally bubbles over into breathless enthusiasm. It's telling that the best scenes involve her investigating the case alone. But she's got no chance of injecting any spark into her scenes with Walliams.

Even moments which should play to his comic strengths – e.g. Tommy being propositioned by prostitutes – are played monotonously straight. It's as if he's deliberately acting against his natural instincts, to prove there's more to him than camp tomfoolery. All he's proved is there's less.

However, despite his flat performance, the show does work in places. It wisely obeys one of the cardinal comic-thriller rules, namely that the villains must be genuinely threatening. Indeed, Partners In Crime is surprisingly violent at times, but that just adds to the zippy sense of peril. If the villains weren't authentically nasty, then we wouldn't buy into the central conceit of two ordinary people being dangerously out of their depth.

It also clatters along in a busy riot of twists and clues, so much so that the plot almost doesn't matter. While that may irk Christie purists, it does at least result in a fairly enjoyable piece of Sunday night escapism. You'll barely remember a thing about it afterwards – Walliams looks lost during it – but it passes time agreeably enough. So that's £6m well spent, then.

A more modest affair, Life In Squares is an intriguing period drama about the Bloomsbury Set, that radical group of intellectuals who cocked a snook – and more besides – at the strictures of Victorian England.

It's an elegantly claustrophobic meditation on sex and art as intensely entwined bedfellows, as Virginia Woolf and her artist sister Vanessa fight to establish independence years ahead of their time. An intelligently written, subtly performed and beautifully photographed slow-burner with occasional flashes of fire. 

TV Review: GRANTCHESTER

This article was originally published in The Dundee Courier on Saturday 11th October 2014.

http://www.thecourier.co.uk/lifestyle

Grantchester: Monday, STV

Paul Whitelaw

If I may make so bold a generalisation, then for anyone starved of thrills since the demise of Tom Bosley's ecclesiastical crime thriller Father Dowling Investigates – Murder She Wrote in a dog collar, no less – the arrival of Grantchester must've felt like manna from murder mystery Heaven.

Set in 1953 in the titular Cambridgeshire village, and written by James 'Son of Archbishop' Runcie, it follows a frustrated young vicar who gains a new lease of life when he becomes an amateur sleuth.

Operating a million country miles from his disturbing performance as Happy Valley's chief psychopath, the versatile James Norton plays Sidney Chambers as a handsome and progressive clergyman who, lest anyone doubt his modern credentials, enjoys whisky, jazz, cigarettes – note that all-important comma - and frolicking in lakes with frightfully nice young ladies.

This workaday existence is changed forever when the grieving mistress of a suicide case approaches him to cry murder. A depressed alcoholic lawyer, he'd told this poor woman that, once he'd left his wife, they would “live as we have never lived!” I mean, I ask you, are those the words of a suicidal man?

Gripped by this compelling evidence, Chambers' eyes widened. As the mistress explained, helpfully setting up the premise, who better to investigate a mystery than a pillar of the community who can go anywhere and ask any question? A romantic dreamer desperate for excitement, Chambers plunged into the case with schoolboy-ish enthusiasm, much to the short-tempered chagrin of lovable Police Inspector Geordie Keating.

Yes, it's come to this for the personable Robson Green, he's finally playing a character called Geordie. Has the man no self-respect? Would Ray Winstone accept the role of a character called Cockney Ardman in a six-part ITV crime drama? Yes, he almost definitely would if the money was right, but you take my point.

Anyway. Gimmick-led detective dramas are as old as Marconi's folly itself. There's nothing wrong with the concept, just how it's delivered. Grantchester is delivered professionally, smoothly, like a tray of Baileys to an elderly group of lunching ladies. It also provides dialogue, plotting and exposition as subtly as an anvil through a vestry window.

The shadow of the war hangs over this sleepy little village like a vast, heavy-handed subtext. The dead man's wife was a sad-eyed German given to quasi-poetic soliloquies. Chambers is a veteran himself, as was every other whisky-driven male character. That makes sense dramatically, historically, humanely. There's something to be explored there. More concerned with scenery and mood, Grantchester reduces it to a man staring solemnly over a cornfield.

Oh, I dare say we'll soon be treated to a scene in which someone challenges Chambers on why God allows such suffering. That'll pass for depth before the case at hand is solved.

This tolerable slice of sub-Agatha Christie is a pot-boiler, a page-turner, just another blood-stained slice of genteel comfort viewing, forever destined to gather dust on ITV3 in the afternoons and maybe, if it's lucky, be given away free with The Daily Mail. It's polished in the sense that dutifully tended silverware is polished, as robustly inoffensive as oatcakes, bell ringers and the face of Martin Jarvis. It's a big old tassled pouffe of nothing, but at least it rests your heels for an hour of a dark Monday evening.

I can't praise fainter than that.

TV Review: THE SOUND OF MUSICALS and CURTAIN: POIROT'S LAST CASE

This article was originally published in The Courier on 16th November 2013.

http://www.thecourier.co.uk/lifestyle

The Sound of Musicals: Tuesday, Channel 4

Agatha Christie's Poirot: Curtain – Poirot's Last Case: Wednesday, STV

Being Poirot: Wednesday, STV

Paul Whitelaw

Billed as a rare peek behind the curtain of that business we call show, The Sound of Musicals was basically an extended piece of free publicity for director Sam Mendes' West End musical production of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. A pedestrian documentary hitting every predictable beat – rehearsals, setbacks, first night nerves – it struggled to make a convincing case for why we should care about the fortunes of a £10 million musical. Or maybe that's just me.

A scene depicting crazed theatre-goers queuing overnight to buy tickets for smash hit musical The Book of Mormon suggested I wasn't the target audience. The only thing I'd ever queue overnight for would be tins of uncontaminated spam in the aftermath of a nuclear attack, and even then only at a push. But these people live for West End theatre, so they'll presumably lap this series up.

It's mildly frustrating, as there was an interesting documentary about the vicissitudes of life as a child actor struggling to break free from repetitive sequences of Mendes looking like a stressed Kenny Rogers and set designers worrying about the logistically troublesome glass elevator prop (initially a rickety death-trap, the actors inside would've been safer diving with sharks in a cage made from ham).

The ruthlessness with which kids were thrown aside during rehearsals when they were deemed unsuitable was eye opening. Tom, a sweet little lad with no previous stage experience, was in the running for the pivotal role of Charlie, before being replaced by a precocious young veteran. It's a cut-throat business. Likewise, the boy originally cast as Augustus Gloop was dismissed when his voice broke. “He had a great moment in the sun,” said Mendes, “and then he got too old.” You heartless monster!

This selfishly pubescent Gloop was replaced by Jenson, an exuberant child who'd always dreamed of being a West End star. “He loves all that stuff,” deadpanned his heating engineer dad. Jenson, to his credit, was a natural; the programme's only truly affecting moment was when dad proudly announced that the experience had brought him closer to his son. That bond was worth more than a million golden tickets.

The great David Suchet made television history last week when, after 25 years, he completed his career ambition of starring in an adaptation of every Hercule Poirot story ever written. Agatha Christie's Poirot: Curtain – Poirot's Last Case marked a fitting farewell to Suchet's definitive portrayal of the incomparable Belgian detective.

The appropriately meticulous detail of his performance has always been a delight. It would be easy to slip into caricature – especially after having played the character for so long - and present Poirot as a vainglorious buffoon. But, as illustrated by Being Poirot, a documentary in which the affable actor bid fond adieu to his beloved alter ego, Suchet never compromised the integrity of the character.

Having studied Christie's books in forensic detail, he brought Poirot's endearing essence to life without condescension or derision. No other actor has ever captured so effectively the charm, warmth and righteous humanity behind the moustachioed super-sleuth's fastidious veneer. There was no madness to his method, only painstaking dedication.

Suchet's remarkable performance and record-breaking achievement will, without a hint of hyperbole, live on in TV immortality. His final glance to camera in Curtain – a moment of self-indulgence perfectly allowable under the circumstances – said it all: au revoir, mon ami, we shall meet again.

TV preview: THE RETURNED; DATES; AGATHA CHRISTIE'S POIROT

This article was originally published in The Scotsman on 8th June 2013.

http://www.scotsman.com/lifestyle/tv-and-radio/tv-preview-the-returned-dates-agatha-christie-s-poirot-1-2960252

THE RETURNED

Sunday, Channel 4, 9pm

DATES

Monday to Wednesday, Channel 4, 10pm

AGATHA CHRISTIE'S POIROT: ELEPHANTS CAN REMEMBER

Sunday, STV, 8pm

Their first foreign-language acquisition in over 20 years, THE RETURNED is clearly Channel 4's attempt to hijack the runaway success of BBC4's European drama bandwagon.

The subtitled likes of Spiral, Wallander, Arne Dahl, The Bridge, and, most notably, The Killing have all attracted dedicated cults in the last few years, and I suspect this French supernatural drama – a critically-acclaimed smash at home under its original title, Les Revenants – will reap similar awards. Having dipped a cautious toe in the pool with the inferior US remake of The Killing, this is Channel 4 fully and belatedly embracing one of the biggest TV trends of our time. And it looks like they've chosen wisely.

Loosely based on a 2004 film of the same name, it focuses on the residents of a picturesque Alpine town as they come to terms with the mystifying return of locals who died years ago (one suspects Dominic Mitchell, author of BBC3's recent zombie drama In the Flesh, is a fan). Outwardly normal in appearance – no rotting flesh or cannibalistic urges here – they haven't aged a day since they died, and have no memory of time passing.

Each episode nominally focuses on one particular character, with the first revolving around Camille, a young girl whose school bus crashes into a mountain dam. The opening scenes, in which she clambers from the ravine and wanders home through the twilight, recall the striking introduction to Twin Peaks: indeed, there's a vaguely Lynchian feel to this painterly study of a remote community torn apart by grief and mystery.

Despite the fantastical premise, the action unfolds at a leisurely, underplayed pace. Its quietude merely adds to the pervading atmosphere of disquieting intensity. With a sonorous score by Glasgow post-rock band Mogwai, it's a captivating moan of arthouse horror. That's right, on Channel 4, the home of Embarrassing Bodies and Big Fat Strictly Dole-Scum Hoarders. Well I never.

Mostly set at night, it takes place against an unnervingly sparse world of lamplight, underpasses and stark apartment blocks, redolent in mood of Let The Right One In. Aside from Camille – whose divorced parents greet her return with a believable embrace of stunned rapture – we're also introduced to a dazed returnee in search of his fiancee, and a creepy little boy whose mute demeanor and inscrutable smile are more frightening than most 18-rated horror films. He's like a “cursed” painting come to life.

If we're to trust the garlands it received upon its initial transmission in France, then The Returned may be one of the most striking TV dramas of the year. Channel 4 doubtless regard it as a gamble – their decision to broadcast the ad-breaks in French smacks of nervous gimmickry – but I don't doubt its addictive cult appeal. Baffling in the best possible sense, its haunting mystique is inescapable.

Given my pathological aversion to cocksure young people and their hats, I could never abide E4 youth drama Skins. But its creator, Bryan Elsley, has pleasantly surprised me with his latest venture, DATES. A series of half-hour dramas focusing on characters struggling through first dates, it's an almost unremittingly bleak treatise on various human foibles. But don't let that put you off: bleak is good.

Essentially a series of standalone two-hander plays – although at least one character crops up in a later episode – it's the sort of “experimental” piece one used to associate with Channel 4 in its halcyon days. Although episode one shows that Elsley hasn't lost his knack for creating profoundly irritating characters, there's something cruelly captivating about chippy everyman Will Mellor's awkward encounter with Oona Chaplin's aggressively unlikeable bully. Although one wonders why, wounded pride aside, Mellor's character would put up with her exhausting unpleasantness, I do admire Elsley's refusal to soften the blows.

Having watched the first three episodes – mousy Sheridan Smith's queasy date with Neil Maskell's gruff city trader is similarly unyielding – it seems that Elsley is attempting to say something meaningful about the guises we adopt at our most vulnerable and desperate. It's an unedifying portrait of human nature at somewhere near its worst: a cynical blast of rotten candour. Whether Elsley and his fellow writers actually like their characters is a moot point, but I can't deny the claustrophobic, voyeuristic impact of these superbly performed chamber pieces.

David Suchet's ambitious goal of starring in an adaptation of every single Hercule Poirot novel and short story nears fruition with AGATHA CHRISTIE'S POIROT: ELEPHANTS CAN REMEMBER, which begins ITV's final leg of the long-running franchise. Widely regarded as the weakest Poirot novel – published in 1972, it was Christie's final dalliance with the character – it inevitably fails to pass muster in TV form.

Zoe Wannamaker returns as feted crime author – and Christie simulacrum – Ariadne Oliver, as she seeks the Belgian detective's assistance in solving the apparent double suicide of a happily married couple. Suchet, as always, is impeccable, but one can't shake the feeling that this underwhelming entry is merely a box-ticking exercise in fulfilling a legacy.