SOUL AMERICA + PLANET EARTH: A CELEBRATION + COUNCIL HOUSE BRITAIN

This article was originally published in The Courier on 29th August 2020.

NEXT WEEK’S TV

SOUL AMERICA

Friday, BBC Four, 9:30pm

The revolution began on stage in 1959, when Ray Charles improvised a call-and-response jam that eventually evolved into What’d I Say. A transcendent fusion of rhythm and blues and gospel, it was the template for soul music: secular testifying. This beautiful series articulates how soul became an expression of what it meant to be black in America from the 1960s to the 1980s. It was the soundtrack to the Civil Rights era. It fuelled Black Power. It paved the way for hip hop. A distinguished volley of talking heads provide persuasive definitions of what soul music actually is. My favourite: it’s gospel with the word ‘God’ replaced by ‘baby’. The stars of chapter one are Brother Ray, Otis Redding, Aretha Franklin and the first wave of Motown deities. The key themes: integration, emancipation, crossover.   

PLANET EARTH: A CELEBRATION

Monday, BBC One, 8pm

“We are living in extraordinary times,” intones David Attenborough at the start of this compilation of some of the most memorable sequences from Planet Earth II and Blue Planet II. He frames it as an emergency respite from the crisis currently surrounding us. A rather lofty pretext for a clip show, perhaps, but there’s no arguing with its content. Highlights include the bittersweet saga of a snow leopard and her cub, some flamingos performing a comical courtship dance, and that quite frankly distressing yet magnificently directed sequence in which baby iguanas are chased by snakes. It’s not all old content; Hans Zimmer and Jacob Shea have composed a new symphonic score featuring piano contributions from acclaimed rapper and singer-songwriter Dave.

COUNCIL HOUSE BRITAIN

Thursday, Channel 4, 9pm

Don’t be put off by the title, this isn’t another poor-bashing series from the channel that once brought you Benefits Street. On the contrary, it’s a humane appraisal of life in the London borough of Southwark, where over 100 thousand people live in council housing. A prominent figure in episode one is Charmain, a sympathetic local housing officer who was raised on a council estate. “These people are proud,” she says, “They want a good life for themselves and their families.” The programme doesn’t paint a naively positive portrait of the housing system, it’s openly critical of Universal Credit, local government underfunding and private rent increases, but it celebrates good people and challenges ignorant, patronising assumptions. Brought to you by the team behind the equally laudable 24 Hours in A&E, it cares.

LAST WEEK’S TV

MORTIMER & WHITEHOUSE: GONE FISHING

Sunday 23rd August, BBC Two

Two genial old friends shooting the breeze against a backdrop of beautiful scenery. That’s all there is to this gentle ripple of comfort viewing. It doesn’t need to be anything else. Series three began with Bob and Paul salmon fishing in the River Tweed. As always, there was a wistful undercurrent. Bob, in his wholly unpretentious way, is a rather philosophical soul. If Gone Fishing is about anything, it’s about savouring the precious time we have here on Earth. Enjoy yourself, it’s later than you think. Bob being Bob, he somehow managed to inject humour into the story of how his dad died in a car accident. That must sound awful written down, but it was actually rather sweet. Welcome back, gents.

HARRY HILL’S WORLD OF TV

Sunday 23rd August, BBC Two

Hill’s latest venture is an ersatz guide to various TV genres. He began with soaps, which have served him so well over the years. You know the score: incongruous narration, music and silly voices added to decontextualized archive clips. Rhys Thomas is now the king of this format; Hill sounds quite tired. The show is, at best, mildly amusing. Harmless. Quite dull for the most part. Hats off, however, to the writers and researchers for poring through acres of footage with no higher purpose than to score some silly and often downright obvious gags. They should also be applauded for deviating from the predictable Corrie/Eastenders/Emmerdale axis  – when was the last time you saw clips of early British soaps The Grove Family and The Newcomers on TV?  Full marks for effort.

CORONATION STREET: STORIES THAT GRIPPED THE NATION

This article was originally published in The Courier on 4th July 2020.

NEXT WEEK’S TV

CORONATION STREET: STORIES THAT GRIPPED THE NATION

Monday, STV, 8:30pm

Over the last few months, the Corrie team have carefully rationed the phalanx of episodes they recorded before the world went to pieces. Production is set to resume soon, but this emergency package of compilations should help to bridge any potential gap in proceedings. It’s pure nostalgia, shameless filler, Just Another Clip Show, but there’s a lot to be said for that in times of crisis. Don’t ever underestimate the mild power of mindless escapism, especially when it involves the greatest soap ever baked. It begins with the explosive Mike, Deirdre and Ken love triangle. Of course it does. Mercifully, for once there are no superfluous talking heads, just loads of clips and some affectionate narration from Jason Manford.

THE SECRETS SHE KEEPS

Monday and Tuesday, BBC One, 9pm     

Agatha is a lonely supermarket employee who is about to give birth. She becomes obsessed with Meghan, a pregnant woman with a perfect upper middle-class lifestyle (she’s forever chopping vegetables on her kitchen island). Inevitably, Meghan’s world isn’t as peachy as it seems. This risible Australian psychological thriller – Peyton Place with delusions of grandeur - thinks it’s blowing minds with a series of massively signposted twists etched in flaming neon letters. Laura Carmichael (Lady Edith from Downtown Abbey) almost transcends her surroundings with a fairly sensitive performance, but there’s no getting around the fact that Agatha embodies the offensive stereotype of people with mental health issues as figures to be pitied and feared. It’s 2020, we’re supposed to be better than this. 

BEING BEETHOVEN

Monday, BBC Four, 9pm

Ludwig Van Beethoven was a child prodigy, a natural born genius who was never given the opportunity to be anything else. That’s the poignant theme of the first instalment in this insightful series, which strips away the layers of myth to reveal the human being underneath. An estimable symphony of classical musicians and musicologists rake over Beethoven’s traumatic childhood. One of them, with affection, describes him as “a tiny, friendless, grubby kid who was somehow always in a world of his own all the time.” Fans of that other notable pop genius, Brian Wilson, will recognise the contours of this story: Beethoven’s dad was an aggressive alcoholic and frustrated musician. Peter Capaldi narrates passages from the great man’s jottings.  

THERE SHE GOES

Thursday, BBC Two, 9:30pm

The daughter of writers Shaun Pye and Sarah Crawford was born with an extremely rare, severe and undiagnosed learning disability. They’ve funnelled their experience into this admirably honest and entirely unsentimental comedy-drama, which first appeared on BBC Four in 2018. Series two picks up the story eighteen months later. As before, occasional flashbacks are employed to place their situation in ever-changing context. David Tennant and Jessica Hynes are low-key convincing as the parents of a child whose very existence makes well-meaning people feel uncomfortable. But There She Goes gains its strength from a determined refusal to preach or judge. Life isn’t etched in black and white, it’s strange, sad, difficult and funny. Profound, I know.

LAST WEEK’S TV

COMEDIANS: HOME ALONE

Monday 29th June, BBC Two

One day, probably next year, we’ll be treated to a compilation of clips from programmes made during the Covid-19 pandemic. An important historical document. Footage from this hastily cobbled-together sketch show will almost certainly be included. Future generations will look back in confusion at that strange time when bedraggled famous faces broadcasting pointless froth from the lockdown safety of their own homes was briefly normal; like that scene towards the end of Threads, when post-apocalyptic children gaze uncomprehendingly at crackly VHS footage of Words and Pictures. The penultimate episode featured contributions from the witless Russell Kane and those insufferably smug My Dad Wrote A Porno podcast dullards. World’s Funniest Man Bob Mortimer solemnly providing a list of silly cat names (Gustav Hosiery; The Gift of Barry; Brigadier Knickers) was the sole highlight. God help us if there’s an actual war. 

COMEDIANS: HOME ALONE + CITIZENS OF BOOMTOWN: THE STORY OF THE BOOMTOWN RATS

A version of this article was originally published in The Courier on 30th May 2020.

NEXT WEEK’S TV

COMEDIANS: HOME ALONE

Monday, BBC Two, 10pm

I wouldn’t blame you for being utterly sick of the sight of well-meaning celebrities broadcasting from their homes during lockdown, but this new series of fifteen-minute programmes is a cheerful distraction. A compendium of self-isolated sketches from various comedians, episode one features Kerry Godliman (who deserves a ticker tape parade for managing to escape from Ricky Gervais’ dire Derek and After Life with her dignity intact) playing a bored mum who’s getting through this by drinking white wine to excess, and Bob Mortimer as ‘Train Guy’, a beautifully observed parody of an obnoxious businessman conducting Facetime conversations with his colleagues: “We need a Zoom womb to incubate initiatives with potential going-forwardness.” Bob also provides some daft names for cats. Nice.

CARDINAL

Wednesday, BBC Two, 9pm

Series four of this frostbitten Canadian crime drama begins with detectives John Cardinal (not, alas, played by a man called John Actor) and Lise Delorme investigating the sudden disappearance of a local politician’s husband. I don’t have much time for sombre police procedurals; it’s a genre sculpted almost entirely from clichés. Cardinal is typical in that it’s well-shot and atmospheric - a show so thickly mired in snow, it makes Fargo look like the Club Tropicana video – and benefits from nicely understated central performances, but we’ve seen it all before. The sonorous score, the sad detectives with boringly complicated private lives, the never-ending trudge from plot point A to plot point Z. You know the snore.

THE OTHER ONE

Friday, BBC One, 9pm

The great Rebecca Front stars in this promising new sitcom about a middle-class widow who gains a bitter lease of life when she discovers that her late husband was a philanderer with a secret working-class family. Co-written by Holly Walsh (check out Dead Boss, an unjustly forgotten sitcom she wrote with Sharon Horgan), The Other One is populated by mildly dysfunctional characters who are gently ribbed but never sneered at. It’s warm, benign, well-observed and contains actual proper jokes. Walsh stirs echoes of Victoria Wood with lines such as this one from Front’s character: “Can you ask Marcus to Sky + Masterchef: The Professionals for me, please?” The banal specificity of that really tickled me. It’s very good, folks. You should watch it.

LAST WEEK’S TV

CITIZENS OF BOOMTOWN: THE STORY OF THE BOOMTOWN RATS

Saturday 23rd May, BBC Two

A mediocre bunch of absolute chancers fronted by an insufferable shabby narcissist, The Boomtown Rats were unique in that they somehow managed to convince The Youth that naff sub-Springsteen pomp had anything whatsoever to do with punk and new wave. This laughably self-regarding documentary was founded on the false premise of Geldof and co being somehow important; a hollow piece of brand management packed with enabling buffoons such as Bono and Sting making absurdly extravagant claims on the band’s behalf. It was undeniably interesting, but only because all pop stories are interesting. Geldof, contrary to his posturing self-image, came across as a charmless opportunist who conveniently organised Live Aid when his moment in the sun was beginning to fade. Still, the piano arrangement on I Don’t Like Mondays is nice, isn’t it? Geldof didn’t write that.

BAKE OFF: THE PROFESSIONALS

Tuesday 26th May, Channel 4

The latest series of this pointless spin-off may as well have launched with a repeat. No one would’ve noticed. The mildly amusing contributions from camp co-host Tom Allen fail to rescue a format which fundamentally misunderstands the Bake Off mothership’s appeal: viewers enjoy watching ordinary people messing about with pastry and cream, it’s no fun at all when everyone involved is tediously skilled.

TV Column: THE CASE OF SALLY CHALLEN + LUCY WORSLEY'S CHRISTMAS CAROL ODYSSEY

This article was originally published in The Courier on 7th December 2019.

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

NEXT WEEK’S TV

THE CASE OF SALLY CHALLEN

Monday, BBC Two, 9pm

In 2011, Sally Challen was convicted of murdering her husband, Richard. Earlier this year, following a landmark legal campaign, her conviction was quashed. This engrossing and fiercely important documentary allows Sally, plus her supportive friends and family, to tell their story. To the outside world, she appeared to be a happy wife and mother. So why did she bludgeon her husband of 31 years to death? Behind closed doors, Richard was a cruel, vicious bully who subjected his vulnerable wife to decades of extreme psychological abuse. This wasn’t widely known at the time of her conviction, as she was still suffering from the undiagnosed disorientating effects of his coercive control. That horrific form of control is now legally recognised as domestic violence.

LUCY WORSLEY’S CHRISTMAS CAROL ODYSSEY

Monday, BBC Four, 9pm

Here’s something to take your anguished mind off the General Election results: a typically engaging essay from that always welcome font of knowledge, Lucy Worsley, in which she traces the eventful history of our most cherished Christmas carols. Wassailing fertility rituals rooted in Paganism, jolly carols regarded with contempt by those party-loving Puritans, and the fascinating story of Silent Night, which began life as an egalitarian folk song, are all grist to Worsley’s mill. Only the most curmudgeonly bah humbug bore would deny the magic of these cockle-warming songs. They’re embedded within our collective consciousness for good reason: they exist purely to make us feel happy, if only for a few precious weeks each year. Five! Gold! Rings!

GEORGE CLARKE’S AMAZING SPACES

Tuesday, Channel 4, 9pm

In this wintry edition of his ongoing nose around magical residences you’ll never live in, the desperately enthusiastic Clarke - a blandly pleasant Sunderland man who increasingly resembles Alan Titchmarsh forced to present at gunpoint - parks his Parka-clad frame in Finland. His mission: to see the Northern Lights. He and his genial ‘scripted legend banter’ companion eventually see them, of course, but not before they visit various aesthetically-pleasing, renewably-energised, precision-made cabins, house-pods and sweltering wood-panelled saunas (followed by dips into icy lakes): all testaments to the genius of ethical Scandinavian design, architecture and their culture in general. Those cats are way ahead over there. Let’s all move to Finland, folks.

VIC & BOB’S BIG NIGHT OUT

Wednesday, BBC Four, 10pm

No matter what happens this week in the (sigh) real world, we’ll always have Vic and Bob mucking about as a source of defiantly silly comfort. They’re an eternal force for good, something to be proud of. Episode three, their latest gift to the nation, involves Vic revealing the secrets of beatboxing, Bob introducing a handsome new train driver wig, another powerful anti-capitalist free-running protest, and more trad gags than you can honk a horn at. Eavesdropping on these daft old friends is such a lovely luxury. Whenever they giggle at each other, the effect is contagious. This isn’t an exercise in nostalgia, it’s two undiminished comic greats buoyed by layers of warmth developed over decades.

LAST WEEK’S TV

THE HIT LIST

Saturday 30th November, BBC One

This shiny floor pop quiz couldn’t be simpler: members of the GBP answer questions in the hope of winning £10,000. That’s it. That’s all it needs to be. Viewers can play along at home and, in time honoured style, shout at the contestants. Last week’s show featured two utter fools who claimed the Beatles are overrated, which is – FACT - the single most boring contrary opinion anyone can ever have about popular music.

MICHAEL McINTYRE’S BIG SHOW

Saturday 30th November, BBC One

Michael McIntyre was placed on Earth for one reason only: to host harmlessly brash Saturday night light entertainment extravaganzas on BBC One. In case you’ve ever wondered, it’s what he’s for. His Big Show is worth it if only for the pleasing image it conjures of a furious Noel Edmonds watching at home and claiming it wouldn’t exist without him.

SEAMUS HEANEY AND THE MUSIC OF WHAT HAPPENS

Saturday 30th November, BBC Two

The BBC has recently received an avalanche of criticism for its appallingly blatant pro-Tory news coverage, but the fact that it broadcast this lyrical Arena profile of the great Irish poet on the same night as its usual populist flotsam briefly reinstated my fundamental – if sorely tested – support for that maddening institution. It symbolised everything the BBC should be: a premium broadcaster catering to all tastes.

TV Review: HOSTAGES and HOUSE OF FOOLS

This article was originally published in The Courier on 18th January 2014.

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

Hostages: Saturday, Channel 4

House of Fools: Tuesday, BBC2

Paul Whitelaw

Readers, I'm stunned. And not a little impressed. Channel 4's latest US import, Hostages, established itself as a steaming pile of horse manure within its first five minutes. That must be some kind of record.

Instantly notable for its dreadful quotidian dialogue – everyone speaks entirely in clunky exposition – this nonsensical thriller began with a mind-blowingly stupid sequence in which a stubble-jawed FBI agent declared his maverick credentials by taking control of a siege situation and shooting a hostage.

Huh? But wait! Our man, our brilliant, brilliant man, had in fact correctly surmised that a cunning armed robber had swapped clothes with a bank employee in a bid to escape. How could he be sure? The ersatz hostage's boots didn't match his business suit. It was one helluva risk, but he's just that kinda guy.

Resembling a constipated David Schwimmer, this wayward genius confirmed his unorthodox approach to law enforcement by invading the home of the President's personal physician (Toni Collette, a fine actress cast adrift) and ordering her to kill him during an imminent bout of surgery. Failure to comply will result in the assassination of her charmless family. So far, so high concept.

It's not necessarily a bad central conceit – 24 managed to wangle eight seasons from such enjoyable daftness – but Hostages squanders its potential by being so catastrophically laughable.

I particularly enjoyed the highly conspicuous albino operative who's supposedly a master of disguise, and the rogue FBI agents creeping stealthily through Collette's garden. Cue stirrings from the family pooch. “I got the dog,” whispered Agent # 1 solemnly, like Jack Bauer staking out a pet shop. Mercifully, the dog was spared. These guys aren't all bad.

“This can't be happening,” sobbed Collette, with understandable conviction. By the time she revealed, during a supposedly high-stakes sequence, that her security password was “Ringo Starr”, I was convinced the sense-addled writers had orchestrated the whole thing as some sort of desperate cry for help.

Like Michael Haneke's Funny Games hijacked by the Chuckle Brothers, Hostages heaves with all the idiocy and emptiness we've come to expect from its executive producer, Hollywood schlockmeister Jerry Bruckheimer.

What's behind the kidnapper's plan? Who cares? Will they end up forming an unexpected bond with Colette's family? Inevitably! And so it goes on. “Sometimes you have to do a bad thing for a good reason,” explained Agent Schwimmer, helpfully. Inadvertent hilarity aside, what's Hostages' excuse?

Channel 4 are obviously banking on this being an addictive replacement for the ailing Homeland. Fat chance. When the novelty value of its awfulness subsides, viewers will abandon this trussed-up turkey in droves.

By cheerful contrast, Vic and Bob's delightfully daft sitcom House of Fools deserves to be a hit. Continuing proof that, when given the opportunity, they're capable of devising relatively accessible mainstream entertainment while compromising none of their unique comic voice, it's delivered with all the infectiously self-indulgent gusto for which they're so beloved.

Finally free from the over-egged constraints of Shooting Stars, the pair seem energised by the chance to throw everything they've got – absurd characters, winningly contrived groaners, crude silliness, wordplay, sight gags, puppetry, songs and slapstick - at the traditional sitcom format (everything, from the saucy 1970s theme tune to the beige living room set, suggests Reg Varney and Yootha Joyce in a cracked hall of mirrors).

An admittedly mixed barrage of gags wisely tethered to the sketchiest of plots – Bob's thwarted mission to watch Conan the Barbarian on TV with his new girlfriend – episode one was a knockabout, charming pleasure. Never mind Mrs Brown's Boys, this is how I like my old-fashioned entertainment.

It's heartening to note that, even after all this time, these peerless clowns still take such delight in making people laugh by entertaining themselves.