Showing posts with label Simon Reeve. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Simon Reeve. Show all posts

Saturday, 30 January 2021

IT'S A SIN + JOANNA LUMLEY'S HOME SWEET HOME: TRAVELS IN MY OWN LAND

This article was originally published in The Courier on 30th January 2021.

NEXT WEEK'S TV

It’s a Sin – Friday, Channel 4, 9pm

We’ve known from the start that at least one of the characters in Russell T. Davies’ outstanding drama would eventually die from AIDS. But no matter how much you may have steeled yourself for that tragic development, this episode is utterly devastating. 

Davies doesn’t flinch, as that would fatally undermine his modus operandi. He wants us to confront the terrifying cruelty of this disease and the appalling stigma that surrounded it in the 1980s. He’s made us care about these characters, we’re fully invested in them. Now it’s time to cry and get angry. 

And yet, as always, Davies balances the horror with humour. He’s a remarkable writer: this profoundly compassionate political statement could be the best thing he’s ever done.

Craftivism: Making a Difference – Monday, BBC Four, 10pm

Comedian Jenny Éclair has been on her fair share of protest marches over the years. In this revealing programme, she examines the direct crossover between grass-roots activism and creativity, specifically with regards to knitting, cross-stitching, banners and Fuzzy Felt graffiti. 

That may sound rather twee and whimsical, but Éclair makes a strong case for the effectiveness of craftivism. It grabs people’s attention, it makes them stop and think: humour, art and politics combined. It can also be a source of mental wellbeing. 

Éclair meets various nimble-figured campaigners, all of them devoted to raising awareness of various important causes via non-aggressive means. They’re doing what they can in a benign yet sometimes provocative way.

Interior Design Masters with Alan Carr – Tuesday, BBC Two, 8pm

Deep in the bowels of Broadcasting House, there stands a large semi-sentient computer tasked with churning out formulaic competitive lifestyle formats. Its latest computation is this, a slickly upholstered vehicle featuring ten creative contestants hoping to break into the professional world of interior design. The grand prize is a contract with a luxury hotel in The Lake District. 

Each week they’re instructed to transform a bland commercial space using the spellbinding power of their imaginations. Host Alan Carr does what’s required of him (very little), while design guru Michelle Ogundehin scrutinises their efforts. 

It is staggeringly dull, the very definition of barely moving wallpaper. No drama, no tension, no fun. We don’t need this right now. Or ever.

Joanna Lumley’s Home Sweet Home: Travels in My Own Land – Tuesday, STV, 8pm

La Lumley rises above that unwieldy title to present this undemanding series in which she travels around Britain. You know the drill: nice scenery and a smattering of history, all wrapped up in Lumley’s soothing caramel tones. There’s no theme, no focus, just a random patchwork of vignettes. 

On the banks of Lake Windermere she visits the picturesque home of Beatrix Potter. In Whitby, the coastal town that inspired Bram Stoker’s Dracula, she hangs out with some goths. Meanwhile, in Manchester, she visits Coronation Street HQ to wax nostalgically with William Roache (she once played Ken Barlow’s girlfriend for four weeks in 1973). 

Lumley is undeniably good at this sort of thing, she’s naturally charming, friendly and inquisitive.

Your Garden Made Perfect – Thursday, BBC Two, 8pm

Here we go again, yet another ‘aspirational’ series designed to make us feel like failures. You don’t have a massive garden and a mound of disposable income? Well that’s your fault. 

In episode one we meet two couples with a combined budget of £40,000. They want to transform their back gardens into magical wonderlands, so they enlist a team of design experts. Detailed computer-generated simulations afford them the luxury of choosing the results. This conceit is presented as a mind-blowing hook. 

The only affluent lifestyle show I can stomach is Grand Designs, because that tacitly mocks the participants. Pure schadenfreude. This is a smug celebration of oblivious middle-class orthodoxy. I’m a million laughs in real life, honestly.

The Chasers Road Trip: Trains, Brains and Automobiles – Thursday, STV, 9pm

In the final episode of this knowledge-hungry travelogue, Anne, Mark and Shaun from TV’s The Chase arrive in Japan, which has one of the highest robot to human ratios in the world. 

Their journey into the world of Artificial Intelligence is ostensibly light-hearted, but the programme carries a sinister undertow. Advanced facial recognition technology could pose a serious threat to our civil liberties, and do we really want to live in a world populated by realistic androids? We’ve all seen Humans and The Terminator. 

Shaun is particularly worried about this dystopian sci-fi nightmare, whereas pragmatic Anne believes that the human brainbox will always be the dominant force on Earth. Bradley Walsh was unavailable for comment.

LAST WEEK’S TV

Incredible Journeys with Simon Reeve –  24th January, BBC Two

Last year, seasoned BBC travellers Michael Palin and Louis Theroux hosted emergency lockdown compilations of highlights from their previous adventures. Now it’s Simon Reeve’s turn. 

An affable explorer with a dedicated social conscience, Reeve is a people person. He’s not one to merely bask in the foreign climes he encounters, he’s more interested in making a meaningful street-level connection with different cultures. 

This wasn’t the best way to appreciate his work: Best Of’s never are. But it was a touching reminder of how, in his unassuming way, he exposes injustice. War, poverty, inequality, prejudice, these are the abiding themes of his programmes. His anger bubbles just below the surface. His compassion is palpable. A decent human being.

Hip Hop: Songs That Shook America – 29th January, BBC Four

Each episode in this new series focuses on a game-changing hip hop track. It began with Kanye West’s Jesus Walks from 2004. A powerful redemption song, this innovative fusion of social commentary, self-aggrandisement and gospel put Kanye on the map. 

Which is all well and good, but the story behind the making of Jesus Walks isn’t particularly interesting. Yes, the programme placed the song in its socio-political context while tracing the evolution of Kanye’s life and career up until that point, but it all felt rather perfunctory. 

To make up for Kanye’s absence, series producers Questlove and Black Thought from The Roots spoke to some of his collaborators. The rest of the series will hopefully be more substantial.

 

Thursday, 30 May 2013

TV PREVIEW: The Poison Tree, This World: Cuba with Simon Reeve


This article was originally published in The Scotsman on 8th December 2012.


THE POISON TREE
Monday, STV, 9pm

THIS WORLD: CUBA WITH SIMON REEVE
Tuesday, BBC2, 9pm

Paul Whitelaw

The broadcasting equivalent of an airport page-turner, the world of ITV drama is traditionally home to psychopaths, murderers and terrorised middle-class families. Martin Clunes' son has been kidnapped by a lunatic! Sarah Lancashire is being stalked by a pervert! Trevor Eve has only gone and got himself involved in a deadly game of cat and mouse! You know, that sort of thing.

So you won't be shocked to learn that their new two-part drama, THE POISON TREE, is yet another psychological thriller in which things go from bad to worse for a troubled household of desperately unlucky sods.

Produced by STV, it stars MyAnna Buring as Karen, a woman who's spent twelve years waiting for her partner, Rex (Matthew Goode), to be released from prison. With a sentence as lengthy as that, it's obvious the Rex's crime was – to put it mildly - rather serious, and the central mystery of exactly what it was is sustained quite effectively throughout the opening episode.

Desperate to move on from this dark chapter in their lives, Karen, Rex and their teenage daughter – who thinks daddy was banged up for tax evasion – begin life anew in a remote cottage by the sea, because that's the sort of moodily atmospheric setting one requires in dramas of this nature. Alas, their hopes are dashed almost immediately, as Karen starts to receive a series of sinister phone calls and texts of the “I know what you did” variety, and their guilty secret threatens to explode.

Most of the action unfolds in extended flashbacks to 1999, when mousy Karen (who hasn't aged a day since) abruptly befriends an irritating free-spirit called Biba (yes, really) who brings her out of her shell during an evening taking fashionable '90s drug “Ecstasy”. Biba also introduces Karen to her brother and housemate Rex, and together they enjoy a bohemian lifestyle subsidised by the family's seemingly inexhaustible independent wealth.

Inevitably, it all goes horribly wrong once Biba reveals herself to be a complete fruitcake – I could've told Karen that the moment she met her – and the drugs and company she keeps grow harder and more dangerous. Her conspicuous absence from the scenes set in the present day certainly suggests that things didn't exactly pan out well for this overstated hippie stereotype.

Despite climaxing with two unlikely dramatic bombshells in rapid succession, part one suggests The Poison Tree is a perfectly serviceable, entertaining pot-boiler. Unfortunately, as is so often the way with these things, part two degenerates into unmitigated bullshit, as the already thinly-drawn characters start behaving implausibly simply to serve the mechanics of the shoddy and nonsensical plot.

Goode wanders through the production looking remarkably sanguine for a man who's just spent twelve hellish years in prison. But with such an underwritten part, there's not much else he can do. Buring fares slightly better, delivering a competent portrayal of the same character at two very different stages in her life. But The Poison Tree is ultimately a crashing waste of time. It doesn't even have a tree oozing poison in it. What a swizz.

“Buenos dias!” Ah, look, it's that nice Simon Reeve, the hale and hearty travel presenter whose ability to get on famously with the peoples of the world is central to the appeal of his programmes. In his latest adventure, THIS WORLD: CUBA WITH SIMON REEVE, he investigates the sweeping economic reforms that have transformed one of the world's last Communist strongholds into a burgeoning crucible of grass roots capitalism.

With Cuba's economy in ruins, its government has been forced to cut one million public-sector jobs and – by Castro's beard! - actually encourage self-employed entrepreneurs in the hope of generating urgent tax revenues. Reeve dives enthusiastically into this brave new world of private enterprise, where he meets ordinary citizens – he was only allowed into the country if he promised not to interview any prominent political dissidents – to discuss the second most significant revolution in Cuban history.

His many new friends include a qualified doctor paid so little by the state he now moonlights as a plumbing supplies salesman; a former cheese-trader currently earning a fortune on Havana's emerging property market; and the owner of a nascent McDonald's-style fast food franchise. He also discovers that the legendary Bay of Pigs – a symbolic site central to the tenets of the revolution – is now surrounded by privately-owned guest houses.

The point of all of this, of course, is that – healthcare and arts-funding aside - Castro's system has failed dismally, and that for too long Cuba's population has been forced to endure appalling living conditions under the oppressive gaze of a totalitarian regime. But now that the iron fist is loosening its grip, for how much longer can the government square its Communist manifesto with the unstoppable influx of western consumerism?

While the overall mood is cautiously optimistic, it's constantly undermined by images of abandoned sugar mills and crumbling houses. And the fact that few of Reeves' interviewees are prepared to say anything remotely negative serves as a grim reminder of Cuba's atrocious human rights record. It's a commendably clear-eyed and revealing report