Kooky bipolar sitcom takes far too long to find its feet
It takes a little while for Big Mood, Channel 4's new comedy, to find its feet, in fact it takes most of its six half hours. That's probably too much for it to be considered a success, or for already bloated TV watchers to want to bother, but then the show should probably be allowed some leeway, given what it's trying to do.
The "Mood" of the title refers to Maggie's (Derry Girls' Nicola Coughlan) bipolar disorder. She's a fledgling playwright about to turn 30 who's almost entirely reliant on the support of her best friend, Eddie (It’s a Sin's Lydia West), to get her through the day. Eddie runs a London dive bar left to her by her dad that's almost always empty. Maggie's goal is to get herself back on the level so she can both write and live. Eddie's is to hold on to the bar, but mainly she's a prop for the flailing Maggie. Their relationship is pinned by Eddie at the end of episode one:
“I fix problems and you have them.”
Trying to make Maggie's problems the stuff of comedy is itself a problem for writer Camilla Whitehill. It's not immediately obvious if the material is just not funny (and of course one person's side-splitting can be another's tumbleweed), or if bipolar disorder repudiates humour itself – the scenes where Maggie is depressed and glued to her sofa, not wanting to move or speak,
would give any dramatist difficulties.
As such we're in a strange world here that should feel new but doesn't. The "best friend who has a bar and is always there and then you fall out and then you fall back in again" trope runs through sitcom from Cheers to Fleabag.
It's been done. That wouldn't matter if Big Mood was as scabrous and daring as last year's Such Brave Girls, or as funny as We Are Lady Parts, but it isn't. Being "The Bipolar Comedy" is a good pitch on which Big Mood doesn't deliver. Relying on two very good actors to conjure up a kooky friendship that we want to watch for three hours is asking a lot.
At least it is initially. When Big Mood
shifts into a minor key, however, around episode five, stops searching for the laughs and hurls itself headlong into Maggie's lithium abyss, it becomes something more interesting. (It's also funnier.) Coughlan, here, is superb, and Whitehill finally has the courage to eschew the obvious and do something with her besties that Friends wouldn't: the final episode is by some way the strongest. The question is, will you watch that far? Benji Wilson
T
wo surgical interns, Simone and Lucas, are trapped in an ambulance, desperately trying to save a man's life while a faulty self-driving car repeatedly rams them. It's awkward as hell since Simone just ditched her wedding for him; the pair have been conducting a steamy affair.
But of course: this is Grey’s Anatomy (Disney+). Astonishingly, Shonda Rhimes's libidinous medical soap is back for its 20th season, and with the ironically titled episode We’ve Only Just Begun. However, Ellen Pompeo, who's starred as Meredith Grey since 2005, has recently stepped back. Does this signal the end?
I doubt it. Grey’s looks in robust health thanks to constantly refreshing its ensemble cast and attracting highprofile guests – such as Geena Davis dropping by to play a pioneering surgeon who goes blind because of a brain tumour. (I hardly need tell you that the surgeon who operated on her
also turned out to have a brain tumour.)
This busy premiere, scripted by new showrunner Meg Marinis and slickly directed by Scottish actor Kevin Mckidd (aka army doctor Owen Hunt), mops up after last summer's actionpacked finale. It also builds on the fanapproved season 19 reboot, which went back to basics with a fresh class of endearingly hapless interns – reminders of our original baby surgeons. The aforementioned Lucas is the nephew of Patrick Dempsey's long-departed Derek “Mcdreamy” Shepherd. He's even inherited his magical hair.
It's a heady mix of high-octane drama, racy romance and topical commentary – whether that's this week's AI critique, or the show's unflinching look at the deadly fallout of the Roe v Wade decision. No wonder that this preposterously escapist but firmly progressive show, always a trailblazer thanks to its diverse cast and ambitious female characters, is a multigenerational favourite.
But most importantly for loyal viewers, the premiere sees Dr Miranda Bailey (the eternally great Chandra Wilson) decide to take charge of the screw-up interns, just like she did back in that 2005 pilot. She even gives the same no-nonsense speech, beginning “I have five rules…” In a chaotic world,
Grey’s is like pink Calpol: deliciously nostalgic medicine. Marianka Swain
Big Mood ★★
Grey’s Anatomy ★★★★