Showing posts with label Steve Coogan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Steve Coogan. Show all posts

Saturday, 16 April 2022

INSIDE NO. 9 + HOUSE OF MAXWELL + CHIVALRY

This article was originally published in The Courier on 16th April 2022.

NEXT WEEK’S TV

Inside No. 9 – Wednesday, BBC Two, 10pm

The latest series of Steve Pemberton and Reece Shearsmith’s exceptional anthology begins with something fans have long been waiting for: a reunion with their erstwhile League of Gentlemen cohort Mark Gatiss. 

They play old university friends meeting up for the first time in years. Lawrence (Shearsmith) has arranged an off-season (and highly symbolic) pedalo ride on a remote lake. Much to Lawrence’s chagrin, Darren (Pemberton) has brought his new girlfriend (Diane Morgan) along. She thinks they’re heading for a fun boat party. In fact, they’re going nowhere. You can never go back. Sometimes people just drift apart. 

A compact study of loss and nostalgia, but with jokes, the episode confounds expectations in typical Inside No. 9 style.

Yorkshire Midwives on Call – Monday and Tuesday, BBC Two, 8pm

This gently uplifting factual series follows a team of homebirth midwives based in Bradford. On average they look after 160 women each year. Thoroughly nice people, these midwives are also great at what they do. 

The series grants insight into the practical details of their workaday labours, while examining the bittersweet emotional aspects. Naturally, they always form an attachment with their patients. But once a midwife’s work is done, she has to move on to another family. 

The series also spends time with some of the pregnant mothers who have decided to give birth at home. They all have their reasons. After watching this, some younger viewers may feel inspired to add midwifery to their list of potential job options.

House of Maxwell – Monday, BBC Two, 9pm

If their accounts are to be believed, some of Ghislaine Maxwell’s closest friends were shocked by the revelation that she’d trafficked underage girls for the paedophile Jeffrey Epstein and his wealthy friends. The final episode of this grimly compelling series attempts to explain how Maxwell and Epstein got away with their crimes for so long. 

It features heartrending interviews with two of their many victims, both of whom describe the horrific ordeals they went through. We also hear from some of the lawyers who acted on behalf of the victims. Their anger is palpable: the system, the establishment, betrayed those vulnerable young women. 

Prince Andrew makes his presence felt in the final 20 minutes. He isn’t spared.

Freeze the Fear with Wim Hof – Tuesday, BBC One, 9pm

Wim Hof, aka The Iceman, is a Dutch motivational guru renowned for his ability to withstand freezing temperatures. It’s a skill he attributes to a unique combination of breathing exercises, yoga and meditation. 

Hof is the benignly eccentric star of this otherwise drab and dubious reality series in which eight celebs face a series of extreme sub-zero challenges in the mountains of northern Italy. It’s basically I’m a Celebrity with a spiritual self-help angle, or The Apprentice hijacked by a hippie Alan Sugar. Which sounds amazing, I know. It’s not amazing. It’s a tiresomely formulaic piece of television. 

A snow-capped turkey, it has to be seen at least once. Just so you can prove that it really happened.

Life After Life – Tuesday, BBC Two, 9pm

Based on the critically acclaimed novel by Kate Atkinson, this is not your standard period drama. Structurally ambitious if nothing else, it explores various alternative possible lives for its protagonist. 

Ursula is born in 1910 to an upper middle-class English family. That’s the only fixed point in time. The splintered story then unfolds as a series of vignettes in which Ursula’s lives are beset by tragedy. 

I appreciate the stark philosophical ‘What if?’ message - life in all its permutations is cruel and unpredictable – but the overall effect is rather cold, calculated and alienating. It falls short of its profound ambitions. 

I haven’t read the book, but I gather it explores this premise in a far more affecting way.

Chivalry – Thursday, Channel 4, 10pm

Steve Coogan and Sarah Solemani write and star in this new comedy-drama inspired by the #MeToo movement. Highly sensitive territory, but it’s clear from recent interviews that Coogan and Solemani have thought deeply about how to handle this subject within a semi-comedic context. Whether they succeed remains to be seen. 

Set inside the A-List Hollywood film industry, it examines the tense professional relationship between a serious feminist auteur and a bigshot film producer with a reputation for dating much younger woman; an awkward dinosaur trying to navigate his way through a modern world he doesn’t quite understand. 

Episode one shows only vague promise, but I’m inclined to trust these writers. They obviously have something to say.

The Rising – Friday, Sky Showcase, 9pm

A young woman, Neve, has been murdered and dumped in a lake. The next day, she returns as an invisible, inaudible ghost. Neve can’t remember what happened, but she’s determined to track down her killer. And from thence does this new supernatural drama from Sky unfold. 

Episode one is quite arresting. It establishes the central mystery without any undue fuss: a no-filler thriller with hints of emotional depth. The ghostly premise and rural, gloomy lakeside community setting stir memories of the excellent French drama Les Revenants. While it may not live up to that comparison, it strikes me as something that could be worth sticking with. 

Unless you have an aversion to ghost stories, I daresay you’ll be intrigued.

LAST WEEK’S TV

Rock Family Trees: The Birth of Cool Britannia – Saturday April 9, BBC Two

In the early 1970s, music journalist Pete Frame begat his treasurable Rock Family Trees: hand-drawn artworks tracing the complex roots of famous bands and musical movements. 

Frame’s work formed the basis of a fondly-remembered late 1990s TV series. Last Saturday it returned for an enjoyable one-off special exploring the origins of Britpop. 

This was the story of three closely intertwined bands: Suede, Elastica and Blur. It served as a reminder that early Britpop had nothing to do with the jingoistic laddism of Oasis. It was sexy, arch and arty. 

Brett from Suede and Justine from Elastica (who were once romantically involved) reminisced with warm, self-deprecating and occasionally regretful candour. Blur, strangely, were unavailable for comment.

The Brian Cox Interview – Tuesday April 12, BBC Scotland

The title says it all. Dundee’s very own Brian Cox sat down for a half-hour chat with BBC Scotland’s Amy Irons. 

Actors can often be hard work – humourless, pretentious and full of hifalutin self-regard – but Cox came across as a genuinely nice man. He’s been a very successful and esteemed thespian for over 40 years, but his leading role as Logan Roy in Succession has turned him into a kind of cult global treasure. 

He’s understandably delighted by this late career development. He’s also a pragmatic jobbing actor who understands that talent operates in tandem with random acts of good fortune. 

Hats off to Irons, too. A very good interviewer. Her questions were considered and concise.    

Sunday, 29 August 2021

STEPHEN + 9/11: INSIDE THE PRESIDENT'S WAR ROOM + BACK TO LIFE

This article was originally published in The Courier on 28th August 2021.

NEXT WEEK’S TV

Stephen – Monday, STV, 9pm

On 22nd April 1993, teenager Stephen Lawrence was murdered during a racially motivated attack. That heinous crime remained officially unsolved until 2012, when two members of a white gang were found guilty. 

Written by Frank Cottrell-Boyce and his son Joe, this absorbing, angry, compassionate three-part drama is a damning indictment of the corrupt, incompetent and institutionally racist Metropolitan Police. It also honours the determination of DCI Clive Driscoll (a solid turn from Steve Coogan), an unassuming man of integrity who realised that a terrible injustice had taken place. 

Driscoll led a unit largely devoted to investigating the police themselves, but his risk paid off. The story begins in 2006, when the Lawrence family were still being denied answers.

Ghosts – Monday, BBC One, 8:30pm

The arrival of corporeal Alison’s long-lost half-sister could potentially place her co-ownership of Button House in jeopardy, so she puts the Captain on the covert case. Meanwhile, Lady Fanny is acting giddily out of character. Could she be in love? 

Ghosts is currently the best British sitcom. Warm, funny and occasionally quite touching, it’s written and performed by a talented troupe of comics with an innate understanding of how to appeal to a family audience. 

They could easily tailor their skills towards a post-watershed slot if they wanted to, but where’s the fun in that? The restrictions they’ve placed upon themselves enhance the comedy. Ghosts is possessed of the utmost wit and charm.

Surviving 9/11 – Monday, BBC Two, 9pm

There are two feature-length BBC documentaries this week commemorating the 20th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks. 

The first is a meditative study of grief and trauma. It features moving eye-witness accounts from some of the survivors, one of whom, Vanessa Lawrence, now lives and works as a painter in Ayrshire. Lawrence was the artist in residence at the Twin Towers in 2001; her studio was on the 91st floor of the North tower. 

We also hear from an Englishman, Matt Campbell, whose brother Geoff was killed that day. Campbell has never trusted the official report, although he’s aware that his investment in 9/11 conspiracy theories could be a subconscious method of channelling his pain.

9/11: Inside the President’s War Room – Tuesday, BBC One, 8:30pm

When the second hijacked plane hit the South tower at 9:03am on 9/11, President George W. Bush was sitting in front of a classroom full of young children. We’ve all seen the footage of him gradually trying to process the news. This gripping moment-by-moment account of 9/11 is told from the perspective of Bush and colleagues such as Condoleeza Rice. 

By allowing them to explain their response to 9/11, the film tacitly asks us to make our own judgements. Bush, like Blair, comes across as someone preoccupied with justifying his tarnished legacy. 

“I’m not much of a navel-gazer,” he smirks. “I guess you could say I’m a man of action… let’s just say I’m comfortable with the decisions I made.”

Back to Life – Tuesday, BBC One, 10:35pm

This dry-witted comedy-drama should, by rights, be as popular as Fleabag (it’s produced by the same team). Daisy Haggard, who writes the show alongside Laura Solon, stars as Miri, a woman struggling to readjust to life after spending eighteen years in prison for murdering one of her best friends. 

Miri is a most unlikely murderer, but that’s the point. She’s likeable, sympathetic, someone deserving of a second chance. 

As series two begins, she’s still trapped at home with her dysfunctional parents. But she’s got a new job stacking shelves in a supermarket, and her sweetly tentative romance with Billy (Adeel Akhtar from Four Lions) is still trundling along. Then the mother of her victim arrives in town…

Our Lives: Lambing Life – Wednesday, BBC One, 7:30pm

Chloe is a 24-year-old sheep farmer from the Peak District. This documentary follows her during lambing season, which for obvious reasons is a particularly busy time of the sheep-farming year. 

Chloe is a delightful person. We witness her literally breathing life into recently birthed lambs, as well as various other specialist skills she hopes to pass on to the next generation of her family. She also writes poetry on the side and runs an alternative therapy business. 

Our Lives is a lovely series; it deserves a warm smattering of applause for shedding light upon the everyday activities of people from all walks of life. Positive by design, it’s a reassuring portrait of humankind.

Grantchester – Friday, STV, 9pm

Series six of this ecclesiastical sleuth caper kicks off with a hot priest case set in a holiday camp. For the uninitiated, Grantchester is set in the late 1950s, so we’re talking full-on Hi-de-Hi! vibes here. 

In time-honoured style, the regular cast all go on holiday together. But their fun doesn’t last: death stalks them where e’er they go. 

As always, this episode fulfils its duties without any fuss. Grantchester belongs to British television’s very long line of cosy, undemanding murder mysteries: it doesn’t seek to challenge or provoke, it exists purely as a piece of slick escapism. And sometimes, occasionally, that’s all you require.

LAST WEEK’S TV

When Ruby Wax Met… - Sunday 22nd August , BBC Two

Years before Louis Theroux met Savile et al, Ruby Wax practically invented the celebrity-based documentary interview genre. This fascinating retrospective celebrates her pioneering, irreverent style. 

It also functions as a time capsule, casting us back to an era before reality television and social media, when unscripted access to the filthy rich and famous was a fairly rare event. Wax reflects upon her interviews with commendable honesty. A qualified expert in mental health, she critiques her own performance while granting sharp insight into the psychology of her interviewees. 

Episode one was bookended by difficult encounters with a pair of rampant narcissists: Donald Trump and O.J. Simpson. It reminded me that, behind the brash comedy shtick, Wax was a gifted interviewer.

Scotland the Rave – Tuesday 24th August, BBC Scotland

In the early 2000s, Graeme Armstrong was expelled from school. His life became defined by alcohol, drugs and violence. And then he discovered “Scotland’s rave religion”. 

Now a successful author, Armstrong hosted this enjoyable documentary about a scene that was sneered at by rave purists, but which clearly meant a lot to those who were part of it. He met up with some fellow ex-ravers, who spoke as one about the cathartic camaraderie of dancing all night while – and Armstrong didn’t shy away from this; how could he? – taking drugs. But, without moralising in any way whatsoever, he also warned of the dangers of that lifestyle. 

He struck just the right balance between nostalgic celebration and hard-won, unpretentious wisdom.

Saturday, 1 May 2021

KILLING ESCOBAR + LINE OF DUTY + THIS TIME WITH ALAN PARTRIDGE

A version of this article was first published in The Courier on 1st May 2021.

NEXT WEEK’S TV

Killing Escobar – Tuesday, BBC Scotland, 10pm

In 1989, Glasgow-born mercenary Peter McAleese was hired to assassinate all-powerful drugs kingpin Pablo Escobar. His mission didn’t go according to plan. This 90-minute documentary explains what happened while fleshing out the details of McAleese’s often troubled life. 

A grizzled raconteur, he understands why many may regard him, a hired killer, as morally reprehensible. But, he argues, “This is the profession I chose.” Killing Escobar makes for uncomfortable viewing. On the one hand it’s a gung-ho celebration of repulsive machismo, but on the other it’s a fairly nuanced study of a philosophical and rather lonely man whose early years were steeped in anger and violence. 

The film ultimately invites viewers to make their own judgement. It’s like an unusually wistful episode of The Professionals.

The Violence Paradox – Tuesday, BBC Four, 9pm 

“Has violence really declined?” asks esteemed psychologist Steven Pinker, who hosts this far-reaching study of the worst of human nature. 

That does, of course, sound like the sort of deliberately glib and unanswerable question Chris Morris would pose at the start of Brass Eye every week, but Pinker is serious: he really does think that we could be living in the most peaceful time in history. And he’s got a vast dossier of facts and research to support his controversial hypothesis. 

Whether he’s right or not – and the programme allows room for dissenting voices – it’s an engaging essay. Hey, maybe we’re not doomed after all. The vaguely hippie-ish Pinker, with his lovely fluffy hair and relaxation tape mien, is someone you want to believe in.

The Money Maker – Tuesday, Channel 4, 9pm

The star of this new series is big-hearted venture capitalist Eric Collins, who each week throws a lifeline to ailing British businesses. Collins, a suave American gentleman, exudes a sort of benign intensity; Zen and the art of trouble-shooting. 

His first port of call is a building repair and restoration company in Manchester. I zone out whenever business types start talking about equity stakes etc. – my brain isn’t wired to compute such information – but The Money Maker is more acceptable than the relentlessly sneering Dragons’ Den. At least Collins tempers his essentially self-serving impulses with a certain degree of empathy. 

But this is such a standard-issue TV format. We’ve seen it all before.

Johnny Vegas: Carry On Glamping – Wednesday, Channel 4, 10pm

In this amiable new series, the comedian and camper van enthusiast follows his dream of setting up a bespoke glamping site full of renovated buses from the 1950s and 1960s. 

Among his friends and family, Vegas is affectionately known as someone who is always coming up with big ideas before getting bored and abandoning them. But he’s keen to stress how serious he is about this project. It’s not just a lark. 

Accompanied by his best pal and personal assistant Bev, Vegas searches for a site and travels to Malta to examine their first bus (he bought it online at 2am without checking the location). He also visits his mum, who’s glad he’s doing this instead of “filthy stand-up”.

Bloods – Wednesday, Sky One, 10pm

This new sitcom about paramedics, while fairly amusing, veers uneasily between likeable workplace shenanigans and self-conscious gallows humour – patients in episode one include a crack addict and some people involved in a car crash. 

Our odd couple protagonists are Maleek (Samson Kayo) and his new partner Wendy (Jane Horrocks). Maleek is a short-tempered fool with a high opinion of himself. Wendy is a kindly chatterbox who isn’t quite as naïve as she seems. Meanwhile, back at hospital HQ, the always watchable Julian Barratt plays a lonely widower who doesn’t seem to be aware that his boss is in love with him. 

Bloods isn’t bad by any means. It’s fine. But I will never watch it again unless someone I trust tells me that it significantly improves. And no one will ever tell me that.

The Dog House – Thursday, Channel 4, 8pm

As the latest series of this wet-nosed comforter concludes, we meet Stanley the Staffie, Ellie the Chihuahua and Zoe the effervescent Beagle. As usual, the staff at Wood Green Animal Shelters must manage that careful negotiation between matching these abandoned dogs with the right humans. 

The main storyline this week involves Dexter from Malaysia, who was shunned by his mother when he came out as gay. He’s now happily married to Aaron. If Ellie accepts him too, their lives could be complete. 

We all know that these programmes tend to favour neatly satisfying narratives - ah, if only life were really so straightforward – but The Dog Pound is a quietly profound little show. It has a good heart.

Britain’s Favourite ‘80s Songs: 1989 – Friday, Channel 5, 10pm

And so, this cheap and cheerfully pointless list show comes to an end. As we knew it always must. 

I suppose Channel 5 should be applauded for doggedly carrying on with the nostalgic pop culture rundown format, which even Channel 4 abandoned about ten years ago after trampling it into the ground. 

You don’t need to have seen previous episodes in this series to know what it involves: 1980s pop videos interspersed with talking heads trotting out all the usual clichés. That’s talking heads as in whoever they could round up at the time; David Byrne and Tina Weymouth don’t barge in to declare their love for Jive Bunny. 

A perfectly adequate way to while away your Friday evening. 

LAST WEEK’S TV

Line of Duty – Sunday 25th April, BBC One

For all its blatant flaws, Line of Duty is hard to resist. Those blatant flaws are part of its maddening appeal. 

To take it seriously is to miss the point; it’s entirely composed of red herrings, cliff-hangers, exposition and convoluted call-backs, but it’s all put together with a certain amount of flair. Case in point: introducing James Nesbitt as a surprise guest-star in episode five, then killing him off in episode six. He hadn’t even uttered a line of dialogue. That whole bait and switch routine was amusing. 

Nevertheless, it’s definitely time to end it now. It’s been a fun ride, but this series has shown clear signs of fatigue and Greatest Hits repetition. There’s nowhere left to go.

This Time with Alan Partridge – Friday 30th April, BBC One

Since 2010, Steve Coogan and co-writers Neil and Rob Gibbons have produced some of the very best Alan Partridge material. Mid Morning Matters, those two outstanding audiobooks and last year’s podcast From the Oasthouse were all premium Partridge. This Time is broader and doesn’t quite scale those heights, but it’s still a very funny show. 

Coogan as Partridge – one of the greatest comedy creations of all time - is an absolute joy to behold; an impeccable comic actor inhabiting a three-dimensional character he knows inside out. 

Last week’s obvious set-piece highlight was his time spent in a monastery, but I laughed more at the subtle cracking of his knees during a ludicrous display of ‘entering a conference room’ etiquette. I do love Alan so.

 

 

Saturday, 23 August 2014

TV Review: RUNNING UP THAT HILL: THE KATE BUSH STORY

This article was originally published in The Courier on 23rd August 2014.


The Kate Bush Story: Running Up That Hill: Friday, BBC Four

Paul Whitelaw

In keeping with her status as an elusive living legend, Kate Bush was satisfyingly absent from her own documentary tribute last night. Having largely shunned media attention for the last 20 years, during which she's released just two albums of original material, seeing her pop up on BBC Four to cheerfully pick over her life and career would've rather dented her mystique.

Instead, her only contributions to The Kate Bush Story: Running Up That Hill came via archive footage and, of course, examples of her unique artistry. Believe me, I don't use such terms promiscuously. Unique, original, iconoclastic, maverick: these adjectives are oft overused and abused. I creep upon the word 'genius' as one might approach a hammer-wielding Boris Johnston. But how else to describe an artist who sounds like no one else before or, blatant imitators aside, since?

As correctly pointed out by Elton John, who was just one of many celebrity fans queuing up to sing her praises, Kate Bush is hardly your average million-selling art-pop songwriter. “They're not normal songs,” he said, almost in awe, like a craftsman examining a bizarrely imaginative sculpture with envious admiration.

Elsewhere, author Neil Gaiman described her work, lovingly, as “book music”, a point proven quite literally (no pun intended) by the likes of Wuthering Heights and the James Joyce-influenced The Sensual World. Steve Coogan, a Byron quote never far from his lips, cut to the chase by stating, “Liking her makes you feel a bit clever.”

Delivered by non-musicians, both quotes were rather telling. As evinced by his self-mocking turns in The Trip et al, Coogan is entirely aware of his own pretentiousness and elitist tendencies. Perhaps more than any other contributor – in a roster including Peter Gabriel, John Lydon, Brett Anderson of Suede, and popular Kate Bush tribute act Tori Amos – his comments tapped into Bush's singular appeal: yes, she's literate and arty, but her eccentric sense of humour – that controlled yet natural 'madness' – is what elevates her above mere po-faced experimentalism.

It's a pity, then, that the programme occasionally veered into Pseud's Corner territory. I welcomed the lack of patronising narration – replaced instead by the occasional explanatory caption – and I don't doubt the sincerity of her gushing apostles. But one could easily picture Bush chortling along at home, both flattered and amused by such blanket fealty. Presumably aware of this, the director pointedly closed with a gently ribald quote from Coogan to puncture the often church-like drift of the preceding 60 minutes.

Nevertheless, the level of insight from our esteemed talking heads was, at its best, of a higher standard than your average hagiography. The worshipful tone was a bit much at times, but we should all be thankful for the dearth of clueless hack comedians spluttering, “Babooshka? What were all that about?!”

Yes, the borderline comedic aspects of her early, flailing, leotard-clad persona were fleetingly acknowledged, albeit placed fairly in the context of a young and exceptionally talented prodigy in the grip of wild expression. In any case, the point was neatly made that an artist as – that word again – unique as Bush was a gift for impressionists. Such is the small, amusing price you pay for daring to be different.

Given the circumstances, it was a classy, affectionate tribute to an admirably private subject.

Friday, 18 April 2014

TV Review: THE CRIMSON FIELD and THE TRIP TO ITALY

The Crimson Field: Sunday, BBC One

The Trip to Italy: Friday, BBC Two

Paul Whitelaw

If the Sunday evening gulf left by Call the Midwife is proving difficult, then The Crimson Field should help to ease the pain. Similarly mired in suffering, it's a death-infested medical drama set in an army field hospital during World War One. While I wouldn't go so far as calling these shows subversive, it's somewhat pleasing that BBC One's traditionally cosy period drama slot is now the reserve of determinedly miserable bedpan horror stories.

Our plucky heroines are a trio of mismatched voluntary nurses. They're a carefully selected study in contrasts: one plays by the rules, the other is a brusquely perceptive rebel, and the third is a golly gosh posh girl who's frightfully eager to please.

As played by Oona Chaplin, the taciturn maverick is the only truly interesting character. Immediately at odds with the stereotypically stern matron, she's a novel protagonist – certainly for dramas of this nature – in that's she's not immediately sympathetic. 

“I didn't come here to make friends,” she snapped, like a prototypical reality TV star. Indeed, she didn't bond with anyone other than the possibly psychotic dying soldier who physically attacked her and demanded that she save his life. When she refused to beg for mercy, he crumbled in confusion. How convenient. There was an intriguing suggestion that she doesn't really care if she lives or dies, which given her circumstances is probably an ideal state of mind.

As with most Great War dramas, The Crimson Field makes a blunt point about the mercenary madness of governing officers. We were treated to a visit from a straight-faced General Melchett type who was practically frothing at the mouth at the prospect of getting wounded men back in the firing line.

“If they can walk and shoot then back up they go,” he barked, his medals for cruelty glistening by gaslight. Not content with sending a clearly traumatised young man to war, he then accused the patients of faking venereal disease. Thank heavens, then, for the kindly hospital chief played by Kevin Doyle, otherwise known as that nice Mr Molesley from Downton Abbey. He's like a beacon of decency in a quagmire of carnage.

The late arrival of Suranne Jones as a strikingly modern Sister – she has a bob and rides a motorbike – suggested an impending storm of friction, and there's obviously something afoot with the quietly bitter Sister whose position she's usurped.

Written by former EastEnders scribe Sarah Phelps, it's a slick and assured drama. While it was hardly free of cliché, episode one was more or less a textbook example of how to establish an ongoing drama. And hats off to Phelps for including a plot strand about graphically depicted dismembered toes and the incineration of amputated limbs. It was admirable in that it would be insulting to shy away from the visceral realities of World War One. I'm sure we've got a lot more discomfort to come.

One of the most purely pleasurable shows I've seen in quite some time, The Trip to Italy reunites Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon as barely fictionalised versions of themselves on a culinary road trip through gorgeous scenery. Mostly free from the animosity that characterised series one, their enjoyment of each other's company is contagious. Spending half an hour with them each week is a grin-inducing treat.


Monday, 5 August 2013

TV Preview: SOUTHCLIFFE/STEVE COOGAN: STAND UP DOWN UNDER

This article was originally published in The Scotsman on 3rd August 2013.


SOUTHCLIFFE
Sunday and Monday, Channel 4, 9pm

STEVE COOGAN: STAND UP DOWN UNDER
Tuesday and Wednesday, Sky Atlantic, 9pm

Paul Whitelaw

A senile old woman clutches to her chest a purse containing her own faeces. Her son, a damaged war veteran, is hunted through the woods and urinated on. The following morning, their sleepy market town is devastated by a random spate of shootings. Welcome to sunny SOUTHCLIFFE, a monumentally grim yet utterly engrossing and – dare I say it? - profound drama from Warp Films (This Is England) and writer Tony Grisoni (Red Riding).

Directed by US indie filmmaker Sean Durkin, it's an atmospheric piece wrapped in an overcast pall and characterised by static, locked-off shots, queasy slow zooms and a distinct lack of incidental score. Although part one burns rather too slowly for its own good – Durkin's stylistic approach initially feels cold and distancing – it subsequently exerts a powerful grip, as we find ourselves trapped within the tragic lives of these characters.

With obvious echoes of the Raoul Moat case, Southcliffe unfolds in a town with a strong Armed Forces presence, where machismo rules and emotions are suppressed. Grisoni explores the debilitating effects of war via Sean Harris' dead-eyed loner (an admittedly rather stereotypical character) and a conflicted young soldier (Joe Dempsie) just back from Afghanistan.

Reporting on the aftermath of the shootings, Rory Kinnear's cynical, embittered journalist – is there any other kind? - returns to his childhood home to confront, not only the grief, trauma and Little Englander hypocrisies of the locals, but his own unhappy past. He's also seeking neat explanations for an inexplicable event. Why, Grisoni asks, do these things happen? How do you make sense of the senseless?

His dialogue is spare, natural and convincing, and despite the harrowing subject matter, the violence isn't gratuitous: Durkin always places the killings off camera. Given that one of Grisoni's themes is media sensationalism of such tragedies, it's a wise and sensitive move.

The non-linear structure, in which the action frequently flashes back to show events from different perspectives, provides a sense of these characters being trapped in a vicious cycle. The daily reliability and innate Britishness of the shipping forecast is a recurring, gently sinister, motif. From the tortured couple played by Eddie Marsan and Shirley Henderson, to the self-destructive landlord played by Anatol Yusef, Grisoni tackles head on the various ways human beings deal with grief. The cast is uniformly outstanding, never once overplaying their roles.

If this all sounds unbearably sad, believe you me it is. But it never feels heavy-handed or worthy. This isn't a piece of pointless misery porn. It's a commendably sincere and sympathetic attempt to confront the unimaginable, while offering acute comment on the uglier side of British society. It's easy to be cynical and dismiss dramas of this nature as mere BAFTA bait. But Southcliffe is a major work, and quite easily the best British TV drama of the year so far.

Laughter time! In STEVE COOGAN: STAND UP DOWN UNDER, the comedian takes his one-man show through Australia and New Zealand, while grumbling backstage about faulty microphones and the tedium of touring. And that's about it. While it's certainly interesting witnessing Coogan as himself – as expected, he comes across as a neurotic and occasionally truculent perfectionist, but essentially likeable – the repetitive nature of this self-produced documentary tends to wear thin.