Sheridan shines in a grubby tale of a mother’s greed and betrayal
Sheridan Smith, they say, is a difficult woman to work with. One co-star in a West end hit, tells how it was his task to deliver preshow pep talks whenever her confidence hit a crisis.
‘if she hadn’t been lumbered with all that talent,’ he remarks acutely, ‘she might have led a perfectly happy life.’
the talent might render her an impossible diva at times. But for viewers of The Moorside (BBC1), it was an extraordinary gift.
She embodied the two faces, feral and moral, of the Leeds housing estate where eight-year-old schoolgirl Shannon matthews disappeared in 2008. as community organiser and single mother Julie Bushby, Sheridan was as inspirational as she was intimidating.
She took that contradiction and stretched it, becoming a big-hearted but bullying personality who remained lovable while blinded by her own self-importance. her commitment was as plain as the chins on her face: by the look of her, she had deliberately added at least 2st since starring as Cilla Black in 2014.
When we first met Julie, she was expounding her theories on childcare to a social worker: if the little beggars don’t do as you say, the first time you yell at them, then give ’em a thick ear.
But when she believed her friend Karen matthews’ daughter had been abducted, all her ferocity was poured into a search-and-rescue campaign that put the police investigation to shame.
Gemma Whelan was convincing as the venal Karen, greedily sucking up all the attention and benefits she could leech from her daughter’s disappearance. She was ignorant, selfish and crafty, an obnoxious character who veered close to Kathy Burke’s Waynetta Slob.
Siobhan Finneran was strong, too, playing the police liaison officer whose suspicions are alerted by the mother’s apparent absence of concern.
Karen’s tears at a press conference were bone dry, and she seemed anxious to compare her performance to the behaviour of Kate mcCann, whose daughter maddie had infamously disappeared a year earlier.
her strangest moment came when, in the middle of a police interview, she got up and started dancing to the sound of a mobile ringtone — an incident writer neil mcKay says did happen in real life, according to officers who investigated the case.
Karen wanted celebrity and the cash that came with it. Sheridan showed us how much Julie Bushby wanted media attention, too. it wasn’t the money but the status, and the chance to show a different side to her and her community.
One day she was in her pyjamas, collecting eggs from the ducks in her back yard. the next she was on BBC news, leading a candlelit vigil for Shannon and parroting phrases about ‘showing solidarity’ and ‘our message to the world’.
most people will remember how the hunt for Shannon ended. this drama wisely didn’t play on the suspense: we knew the little girl would be found alive after 24 days. inevitably, as long as her daughter was missing, the moorside invited compassion for Karen matthews. By the second and final part, we hope, not a shred of that will remain.
Simon Brodkin’s victims deserve no compassion either, but the pettiness of the ‘pranks’ he played in
Britain’s Greatest Hoaxer (C4) does not make for effective satire.
he tricked his way into a Britain’s Got talent audition, posing as a rapping rabbi, and won a thumbs-up from Simon Cowell. Since Brodkin’s perform- ance was no worse than most, it was a pointless jape.
With a dinghy and a bunch of mates, he managed to festoon shamed retail tycoon Philip Green’s yacht with a banner that read ‘BhS destroyer’ in monte Carlo harbour. Sir Shifty was ‘giving a bad name to billionaire tax avoiders’, Brodkin complained.
and he scattered golf balls emblazoned with swastikas at donald trump’s feet on a golf course in Scotland.
Since these stunts are all the comedian is known for, you could argue that he’s surfing to fame in the wake of the people he professes to despise.
how he pays for these elaborate and pointless charades, we were never told. it was all neither informative nor very funny.