TV Review: CHASING SHADOWS and EDUCATING THE EAST END

A version of this article was originally published in The Dundee Courier on 6th September 2014.

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

Chasing Shadows: Thursday, STV

Educating the East End: Thursday, Channel 4

Paul Whitelaw

I often worry about the fear-caked world of ITV drama, where murderers and sex offenders are only an episodic crime spree away from being apprehended by miserable anti-heroes. Whenever it isn't wallowing in the wake of scaremongering tabloid headlines, it's paying forelock-tugging tribute to the past via Downton Abbey. That can't be healthy.

Its latest carnival of horror is Chasing Shadows, a crime thriller so generic it seems to have taken Charlie Brooker's gloriously silly A Touch of Cloth at face value.

Seriously in danger of being banged up by the cliché squad, it's a woefully derivative bore in which Reece Shearsmith plays our tired old friend, the maverick cop who gets results through unorthodox means. Writer Rob Williams should be awarded some kind of medal for devising a character so utterly lacking in originality.

All the boxes are dutifully ticked: he's eccentric, (literally) buttoned-up, maddeningly antisocial, yet utterly devoted to solving the case with his computer-like genius. It's as if Williams sat down at his desk and thought, “To hell with it, I'll just rip off House and Sherlock. No one will notice or care.”

That staggering lack of imagination courses through Chasing Shadows like a virus. Assigned to a Missing Persons unit, Shearsmith's DS Stone butts heads with his new colleagues – Alex Kingston's mumsy Hattersley and Noel Clarke's bloke in a suit - while racing in pursuit of a serial killer. In case we hadn't quite got to grips with this complex creation, Clarke's character actually described him as someone who “marches to the beat of his own drum.”

It's a sorry state of affairs when the only unexpected wrinkle in this character's make-up is the presence of his supportive, loving partner. Williams clearly thinks he's being exceptionally clever here. "He's not lonely after all! Didn't expect that, did you?!" Well, no. I also don't expect to be killed by a falling piano tomorrow, and nor do I welcome the prospect.

Meanwhile, fans of laboured visual metaphors will have enjoyed the running conceit of the mismatched Stone and Hattersley literally travelling side-by-side in separate vehicles. I'm not entirely convinced that Williams wrote Chasing Shadows in the conventional sense. It feels more like the result of feeding basic information through an automated software package.

It's disappointing, as the justly lauded Shearsmith usually displays more discernment than this. His recent turn in true-life crime drama The Widower suggested that one of our finest comic actors was broadening his palette in an interesting way. And while he does what he can with the role – his darting, uptight little walk is a nice touch – there's little he can do with such lacklustre material.

Financial rewards aside, I can only assume he accepted this hopeless gig by letting his real-life fascination with serial killers cloud his judgement.

London's Frederick Bremer School is the setting for Educating the East End, which has the unenviable task of following the all-conquering Educating Yorkshire. Can it capture our hearts in quite the same way?

Episode one suggested that, with this talented production team in charge, you could place cameras in any secondary school in the UK and find an absorbing mass of drama, humour and pathos.

Its latest star is English teacher Mr Bispham, who struggled to imbue his boisterous pupils with the wonders of Shakespeare while on a stressful two-year placement. Avuncular yet sensitive, his lack of teacher training caused some toe-curling gaffes. It was a textbook example of romantic idealism versus the practical realities of teaching. But in a twist typical of this heart-warming series, he eventually triumphed with the touching support of his pupils.

Granted, like all documentaries of this nature, these real-life narratives are condensed into neat little arcs with convenient happy endings. The lives of some of the pupils at Frederick Bremer are obviously far more complicated than 60 minutes of populist entertainment will allow. But I can forgive the Educating franchise its contrivances.

The welcome antithesis of the cynical point-and-laugh exploitation that blights so much of Channel 4's factual output, it's clear that everyone involved in the project is fundamentally benign in their intentions. With the education system continually under fire, this exemplary series is, quite heroically, a compassionate political statement on its battered behalf.

TV Review: PREY

This article was originally published in The Courier on 3rd May 2014.

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

Prey: Monday, STV

Paul Whitelaw

John Simm has spent most of his acting career bruised, battered and thoroughly harrowed. Prey was no exception. Basically a brutal British remake of The Fugitive, this propulsive thriller finds Simm in the browbeaten role of Marcus Farrow, a Manchester copper wrongly accused of murdering his ex-wife and son.

Pursued by a female colleague whose own personal issues – she appears to be stalking an ex – may be distorting her judgement, he spent most of episode one in an understandable state of distress.

The jittery opening sequence was a pocket master-class in ensnaring our attention: waking up in the back of a crashed police van with a ballpoint pen sticking out of his chest (a nice, grisly detail), Farrow sprang into action and rescued the survivors from the oil-soaked vehicle. Straight away it was clear that, despite his prison fatigues, this was an inherently decent, resourceful man. But once he was free, he spied his chance and fled the scene. Unfortunately, he fled straight into the path of a passing vehicle. Did that stop him in his tracks? Not a chance. He just picked himself up and hobbled over the horizon. Cue credits.

It was – absolutely no pun intended – an arresting introduction, and typical of writer Chris Lunt's commitment to maintaining intensity at all cost. As the action flashed back to three days earlier, when Farrow was a free man, the pace never slackened.

Relentlessly overcast dramas can often be unwittingly funny - there's a thin line between intense seriousness and inadvertent comedy – but Prey was saved by intelligent writing, taut direction and understated performances from a stellar cast of reliable character actors. It wasn't even hampered by the fact that three of the principals, namely Rosie Cavaliero, Benedict Wong and Adrian Edmondson, are generally better known for comedy.

It did, however, confirm that Craig Parkinson is forever destined to play dodgy characters. As soon as he cropped up as Farrow's best friend, anyone familiar with TV drama must've narrowed their eyes in suspicion. Sure enough, it transpired that his character is somehow involved in the plot to destroy Farrow. Of course he is.

His presence also highlighted unavoidable similarities with Line of Duty, in which he also starred. It was entirely coincidental, but Lunt must've kicked himself when he watched that: you wait ages for one addictive conspiracy thriller involving an upturned prison van and an incarcerated police officer, and two come along at once.

Nevertheless, Prey worked effectively on its own terms. It may cover well-trodden territory – it's an Hitchcockian 'wrong man' thriller in modern apparel – but it's utterly committed to the cause.

The supporting cast are excellent, but this is Simm's show all the way. Three scenes in particular were testament to his acting prowess. The first, where he angrily confronted his ex-wife about her new partner, was painfully convincing. The second, in which he was informed of the death of his son, was almost unbearable. As the camera clung mercilessly to his grief-stricken face, his pitiful, muttered “oh” was more devastating than any amount of fireworks. And his untrammelled fury when he was first accused of murdering his family was a powerful example of an actor dredging raw emotion from the depths of their soul.

Suffice to say, it's not the sort of thing one normally expects from ITV at 9pm. Thank goodness for that.