Low-octane drama has Dutch courage
MARC WARREN smouldered so much in the new (ITV, Sunday), he must have been a fire risk on the streets of Amsterdam. It was those piercing blue eyes.wow. It had an effect on everyone, and not just scores of local waitresses who appeared either deeply terrified by him, or deeply in love. But he took down everyone within plain sight – police rookies, assistants, chiefs of police, museum curators, politicians.
It gave us something to think about as we recovered from the shock of the new soundtrack. It was “I hope no one notices the new theme tune”.why would you get rid of one of the most iconic TV tunes – Eye Level – a Number One no less, and replace it with something modern which was a “nod” to the original? Apparently, it didn’t sit with the “contemporary feel”. What does?
This remake didn’t sit well with it either really. I know it’s Amsterdam but there were so many shots of bicycles, in and out of scenes, that I thought it was sponsored by Halfords. I was expecting a cheeky walk-on, sorry ride-on, from Victoria Pendleton. The programme even started with a spirited bicycle chase. It was the first low-octane drama.
There was potential elsewhere. I was impressed to see a vomiting pathologist in the first five minutes who threw up his night out within moments of arriving at the crime scene. Or did he catch another searing gaze from our inspector? Later he was caught sleeping among the work corpses.this pathologist has promise.
It was easy to get completely lost in the plot, but not in a good way. Was it me, or did the right-wing politicians look just like the left-wing ones? You can see how continental countries can get in such a muddle.
But this drama was all aboutvan Der Valk’s 1970s-style pulling power. Just look at a girl and she’s yours. Campari and soda, anyone? It was convenient that the first woman he had success with in a bar turned out to be a criminal mastermind in this apparently high-stakes political caper. “That was quite a night,” he muttered to her.then when he went to arrest her, she simply wanted another go with the Casanova of crime drama.
Personally, I liked the dog.trojan could well be the star of the piece. Like a street-wise Lassie, he sniffed something that could have been underwear – well, it is Amsterdam – and found the missing captive among a huge estate of derelict
STEPHENSON’S ROCKET
buildings and factories. Trojan could come in handy, particularly if Van Dervalk is ever looking for his trousers.
After playing Eye Level on Spotify, I sought further solace with
Celebrities are having a tough time. They’re either struggling to do a decent Tik-tok (whatever that is), or working out why they can’t get a haircut over Zoom. Meantime, can
(ITV, Wednesday) be the last foreign jolly they take for entertainment? When the prospect of an overseas holiday is fading fast, there’s nothing better than seeing celebs and their families having fun. If they’d like to send me to Australia to find my convict past, that’s different. Some of my lot are out of chains now.
(ITVBE, Sunday). Is she fact or fiction? An alien creation? I have no idea, but she is a larger than life reality star who has lucked out on the timing of this show. “I fink there’s going to be an economic crash.” Quick, someone tell Chancellor “dishy” Rishi. Collins was helped over every obstacle by emotion-free Mark, an inscrutable PR, and presenter Angus Deayton – that’s where he’s been – who provided a witty narration. It needed someone from planet Earth.
Within no time, however, she had invested herself completely in the evolving national drama. If only Cobra knew what it was missing out on.accosting two fellas in her beloved Brentwood, Essex, where she owns a shop, she bid them goodbye thus, “KEEP WASHIN’ YER ’ANDS! COR...ONA!” Later when her mother answered the phone, Collins chirped: “Covid! Covid!” It was a breakthrough: she could speak corona.as much as I didn’t want to laugh, I did.would someone be offended? Unlikely.we need comedy so badly now.
But she had, um, honesty. She was baring her soul, infused by Prosecco, topped up with oat milk lattes and “triple froth”. “I don’t believe in milk,” she shared. Let me say, Gemma, it does exist. But nonetheless she vowed to “bring everyone up with me”.
Apparently without any partner, excepting two eager stylists, she threw herself – if that’s physically possible – at a bathroomsalesman,ant,whosefather was from Sicily. “DO YOU KNOW TAORMINA?” she shouted, referring to the hilltop town. “I went to the Godfather church!” They were fear struck. Like us, they had no idea who or what they were dealing with.we may never know.
Finally, I got very embarrassed watching
(BBC One, Monday) which had more sex in it than The Little Red School Book from the 1960s and might as well have been based on it.
It’s all about love not lust, however, because it’s from a proper novel by Sally Rooney. It’s a Romeo and Juliet-style story across the divide: he has a driving licence, she doesn’t.that always leads to trouble.