Skins

The Weekend Australian - Review - - Television -

Thurs­day, 9.35pm, SBS Two Wel­come to the sixth sea­son, and the third pri­mary cast, of Skins, a Bri­tish teen drama about way­ward boys and girls by the fa­ther and son writ­ing team of Bryan El­s­ley and Jamie Brit­tain. The rea­son for the rapid turn­around in cast mem­bers is not be­cause the lads get sick of their stars but, as Bill Hen­son does in his pho­to­graphs, they want to cap­ture the essence of teenage years, the very mo­ment when in­di­vid­u­als are ex­otic crea­tures sus­pended be­tween child­hood and adult­hood. Things be­gin with a wild, drug­fu­elled group hol­i­day in Morocco that grad­u­ally turns sour and ends in near tragedy. It’s like a con­tem­po­rary up­date of Cliff Richard’s Sum­mer Hol­i­day. The pro­gram is aimed squarely at peo­ple some­times un­kindly re­ferred to as spotty youths, who will un­der­stand its cast of sim­i­lar types with fetid breath, un­savoury per­sonal hy­giene and histri­onic sex­ual and emo­tional lives. Such view­ers will likely have no idea who Cliff Richard is. For that they should be grate­ful. The mu­sic in Skins is fab­u­lous.

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