What to watch
The disappearance of Lord Lucan in 1974, after the murder of his children’s nanny and serious assault of his wife, has remained an enduring national obsession. After 30 years of silence, his wife Veronica, Countess of Lucan, talks about the attack, the aftermath and, most intriguing of all, the dysfunctional marriage that preceded it. The Lucans had the sort of relationship where she would comfort him after he’d lost £8,000 during a night of gambling, or where she would recall his affection and regret, rather than his brutality, after he’d caned her in response to her diagnosis with depression.
My Husband, The Truth is all the better for the absence of bells or whistles: this is a head-tohead, sparingly punctuated by home videos and restrained reconstructions. The result is an extraordinary portrait of a weird aristocratic demi-monde. Her crystal-clear recall of the attack is as startling as her lack of insight into why, for example, she became estranged from children to whom she gave little attention. “All my relationships are cold,” she explains, with no apparent regret. This film is chilling, melancholy and, at times, downright creepy. Gabriel Tate begins with a double bill.
Fear the Walking Dead has overcome a shaky start to become pretty absorbing in its own right, and with civilisation in meltdown, troubled teenager Nick (Frank Dillane) finds himself recovering from a neardeath experience. Before, at 8.00pm, Ride with Norman Reedus sees
Daryl from The Walking
Dead taking famous friends off on two-wheeled road trips around the States, starting tonight with the West coast. GT