It’s not funny when the family grows up so fast
Modern Family Sky One, Friday Collateral BBC2, Monday Striking Out RTÉ One, Sunday Heartbreak Hotel TV3, Wednesday Tomi Reichental: Condemned To Remember, RTÉ One, Wednesday
WHEN Modern Family made its debut in 2009, it was a refreshingly different sitcom that relied for its laughs on the inter-generational clashes in one mildly complicated extended family. Top of the pile is Jay Pritchett, a millionaire wardrobe salesman married to his much younger second wife, Gloria, a Colombian firebrand who had a young son, Manny, from a previous relationship.
Jay’s daughter Claire is married to the still dorky Phil Dunphy, and they have three children – Haley, a vapid, man-mad teenager; another daughter, Alex, who is the polar opposite, a geeky genius; and a clumsy young son, Luke.
And then there is Jay’s son, Mitchell, a fussbudget lawyer in a relationship with the very camp Cameron. In the opening episode, the two adopted an Asian girl they called Lily. Jay’s gradual understanding and acceptance of Mitchell and Cam’s relationship was nicely done. It wasn’t always plain sailing but it had the ring of truth. On Friday night, I sat down to watch the latest episode of the show, now in its ninth series, and was surprised to see an old episode instead, from the fourth series. I have no idea why a new episode wasn’t broadcast but the vintage one was an eye-opener, reminding me of why a series I once loved has become something of a chore.
The problem with Modern Family is one other sitcoms have faced before – the kids grew up. The rich seam of comedy mined from reflecting on modern parenting no longer works with young adults. Luke in particular is a character with nowhere to go, and Haley’s growing maturity, while very likely reflective of the real character development of any girl just like her, doesn’t make for many laughs. Most annoyingly of all, though, Mitchell and Cam spend just about every new episode sniping at, and undermining, each other. They’re petty and shrill, and it’s often hard to decide if they even like each other, never mind love each other.
They, and the show, have long since settled into boring domesticity. With just one more series left – the makers have promised the tenth will be the last – the only logical plot point left to explore, and the bravest, would be to show US television’s first gay divorce.
As one comedy stutters, a smart new drama, Collateral, began a four-part run on BBC2. It opened with the manager of a pizza shop deciding at the last minute to send a different driver on a delivery run to the home of Billie Piper. Just after he dropped it off, he was gunned down on the steps of her apartment building in what looked like a planned execution.
So who was the real target – the first driver or the second? Who told the manager to switch them? What can the sole witness, an illegal immigrant woman in a relationship with a female vicar, tell the police? How will it all compromise Labour Party MP John Simm, who unwittingly sponsored the immigrant for a college course? And can DC Carey Mulligan solve the puzzle?
Playwright David Hare’s clever opener asked a lot of questions and achieved what all good drama should – he left us wanting more. If there are a few jarring notes – Mulligan not only is a detective but also was a teacher and Olympic pole vaulter! – they’re worth enduring to see where the underlying themes of race, politics and the possible role of the intelligence services take us. RTÉ’s flagship drama, Striking
Out, limped to a close on Sunday with little in the way of resolution. Finally in court to hold oily lawyer Richard Dunbar to account for his role in the corrupt awarding of a hospital contract to a developer, proceedings were interrupted by word coming through of a tabloid exposé of lead barrister Vincent’s alleged cocaine use. Perhaps the only time in history a morning newspaper seems to have been printed at noon!
The episode’s only redeeming feature was a cracking line from lead character Tara Rafferty’s mother, Irene, delivered with great relish by the wonderful Ingrid Craigie. After discovering her husband’s affair with a fellow judge, she looked at him at dinner and said: ‘Pack your bags and then f*** off. Put your plate in the dishwasher.’ I’m still laughing.
There weren’t many laughs on Valentine’s night as both TV3 and RTÉ One made rather odd programming choices. Ballymount’s
Heartbreak Hotel, presented by Maia Doherty, was a documentary about a rural boot camp to help people whose relationships had ended come to terms with the split and start afresh. With happy couples out celebrating, surely the only ones watching were those in similar situations. As one of that cohort, by the end I just wanted to nip out and buy myself flowers and chocolates and give myself a hug.
Montrose’s Tomi Reichental: Condemned To Remember followed Ireland’s best-known Holocaust survivor as he returned to his native Slovakia to lament the rise of the Far Right in that country, and to examine how a subsequent genocide, that in Srebrenica in Bosnia-Herzegovina during the Balkan War in the Nineties, could have happened and might happen again.
It was a sobering film, and moving too, but it might have made a bigger impact on another night. It left me so depressed, even a ninthseries episode of Modern Family would have cheered me up, and that’s saying something.