A royally uncomfortable investigation by Channel 4
It’s been a busy few days for Royal documentaries. The night after Harry and Meghan’s sympathy-eliciting African travelogue came a film which was almost its polar opposite. The Prince and the Paedophile (Channel 4) was a Dispatches investigation into the friendship between Prince Andrew and billionaire paedophile Jeffrey Epstein. As the report detailed Epstein’s crimes and connections to the Duke of York, it made uncomfortable viewing – albeit not half as uncomfortable as it would have been at Buckingham Palace.
Presented by Cathy Newman, the programme dug deep into Epstein and the Duke’s 12-year association, comparing Epstein’s address books and flight logs with the Duke’s schedule. The results weren’t flattering for the Queen’s second son.
The pair met on at least a dozen occasions, often for days on end. Locations included Epstein’s Palm Beach mansion (home to his “massage room”, where many girls were abused for the first time) and his private island, where it has been claimed the Prince took part in an orgy (Prince Andrew has strongly denied this and the claim was ruled inadmissible in the court in which it was made). In return, Epstein was invited into the heart of the British establishment, with visits to Windsor and Sandringham.
In 2001 came the infamous photo of the Duke with his arm around 17-year-old Virginia Roberts – introduced to him by Epstein and with whom he has been accused of sleeping, not just once but three times (again, the claims are strongly denied by the Prince and were ruled inadmissible in court).
Of course, it wasn’t just the Duke who was caught up in this prolific predator’s web. We heard of Epstein’s links with the likes of Donald Trump and Lord Mandelson, who Epstein allegedly nicknamed “Petey”.
The overriding impression, as so often with famous sex offenders, was of Epstein’s hubris. He seemed to believe that his wealth and influential friends made him untouchable. While there may be no solid evidence against the Duke, he was perhaps guilty of similar hubris, along with poor judgment. He was either badly advised or wilfully ignored that advice.
Footage of Newman lurking in lamplit Belgravia streets was hammy and much material here wasn’t fresh. There were new interviews with US investigators and an anonymous friend of Epstein, but Roberts’s testimony was taken from her explosive NBC interview a month ago.
However, it was forensically made and raised more questions about Epstein’s queasy activities.
Comic book fans are a hard bunch to please – forever throwing their man-baby toys out of the pram at some perceived desecration of their sacred texts – so I’ve no idea if they’ll approve of (Sky Atlantic). But I enjoyed it enormously.
Alan Moore’s graphic novel masterpiece has never received the screen treatment it deserves. A film version was stuck in development hell for 20 years before director Terry Gilliam departed, describing it as “unfilmable”. A misfiring movie eventually appeared in 2009.
This new series from writer Damon Lindelof wasn’t your traditional adaptation but what he calls a “remix”; in the same spirit but with new characters and fresh dystopian chaos – a sequel with shiny new knobs on.
In an alternate contemporary Oklahoma, it was three years since a coordinated white supremacist assault on police officers’ homes, an event dubbed “the White Night”. Police now wore yellow bandanas to protect their identities, while The Seventh Kavalry, the group behind the attack, donned Rorschach inkblot masks.
When a black traffic cop was shot, undercover detective Angela Abar (Regina King) and Police Chief Judd Crawford (Don Johnson) realised racist terrorists had resurfaced and were planning something big involving a “cancer bomb”. Cue Abar donning the costume of a ninja nun called Sister Night to kick some redneck butt.
In-jokes and nods to the original abounded. Alien squid fell from the sky. Jeremy Irons popped up as a reclusive aristocrat, partial to typing in the nude and tipped to be intellectual superhero Ozymandias. While Moore’s original was fuelled by Cold War paranoia, Lindelof made the Trump era’s racial tensions his theme.
Johnson was craggily charismatic. King was brilliantly fiery. The actions scenes thrilled, the rest intrigued, as did the early death of a major character. Has Watchmen’s hour of screen glory finally arrived? Tick tock.
The Prince and the Paedophile ★★★ Watchmen ★★★★