No happy ending for our favourite baddie
WAS THERE anyone in the known world who thought James Norton’s Tommy Lee Royce, one of our more noted TV baddies, was going to make it to Marbella? One glaring fact gave it away: there was no sign of cabin luggage in his safe house. Tommy was of course meant to be heading off there with son Ryan. Indeed, if he was desperate for some hand-luggage he could have sneaked away to TK Maxx late at night (depending on the branch) to grab a bargain in a daring colour. He would have been the talk of Costa Del Crime.
But Tommy almost knew he was bound for the bargain bin himself when his ride turned up on Happy Valley (BBC One, Sunday). They looked like three mini-cab drivers in a tatty Passat. Were they all going to Spain, doing shifts at the wheel?
Of course, it was the horrible Halifax mob – the Knezevics. Keen-eyed Tommy spotted an emergency petrol tin in the backseat. He’s the sort of man who immediately thinks, “They’re going to set me on fire – and I might need a small kitchen knife as back up”.
After some cosy chat in the car,
Tommy cut them, thumped them, and generally bludgeoned them to death, ruining my hopes of a jolly boys’ outing to “Marbs”.
Later came the main event as Sergeant Catherine Cawood (Sarah Lancashire) cornered Tommy in her house.
Boy was she cross, effing and blinding all the way. Did she have somewhere else to go? In fact, her language was so shocking, it shouldn’t be tolerated by the police. No wonder she was retiring.
Tommy effectively love-bombed her, the cheek, while Catherine just called him more vile names which, to be honest, was having some impact.
He finally gave in and doused himself with petrol, proving that calling people horrible names – even with good reason – does have consequences.
At least all 7.5 million viewers across the land could finally relax again, after a heart-stopping finale.
Clarkson’s Farm (Prime) has returned for a second series, without Clarkson mentioning his friend Meghan once. Well, not in the first three episodes which I happily binged, like a pig in swill. I believe that’s a technical farming term.
Clarkson was in his own swill again, though still battling the neighbours over his farm shop, which he wants to convert into a restaurant. They will love that! He also wants to introduce beef cattle. He knew his stuff – “Are we buying lady cows or man cows?” It wasn’t straightforward; gender never is.
When the herd arrived, they didn’t seem to like what they saw, so they decided to bolt. It made for good comedy as he, partner Lisa and Caleb, everyone’s favourite farmhand, chased them through
the fields into the same neighbour’s property – three times over.
Clarkson also piled in on Brexit because his farm subsidies had been lost, and wondered aloud whether he could “kill a badger” to stop them potentially spreading TB through his herd.
Clarkson’s schtick is you never really know whether he’s joking. I’m sure he makes up his mind later. But catch him on TV while you can. Amazon is not talking about another series (yet), because of his Meghan comment. Shame, because Clarkson’s Farm is very entertaining, and occasionally informative, television.
Farming stock of a different kind strode daringly into the path of the indomitable Sara Davies on her delightful Spring
Walk (BBC Four, Monday) near Masham.
I speak no less of the Lord and Lady Swinton – aka “Lord and Lady Masham” – who just happened to be out for a quiet ride along a quaint lane, sorry “their” quaint lane, when they “bumped” into the millionaire crafter and Dragons’ Den entrepreneur. Channelling Emily Maitlis, Davies was straight in there, “Who will inherit the estate?” she probed.
Lady Swinton’s mount took a back step or two. “We have three children, they can sort it out between them…” Davies pushed on: “Any of them show any business acumen?” Blimey. It’s a wonder Lord Masham didn’t reach for the birch, before politely offering: “They’ve started working in part of the hotel...”
Reassured, Davies pressed on through the bluebells. As she told another business anecdote about her irresistible path to the top, she concluded, “Underestimate me at your peril.” She meant it.
Finally, if you need a bleak crime drama fix after Happy Valley, try The Wall: Cover Your Tracks (More4, Friday). A smelly corpse somewhere deep in a heating duct is upsetting customers at a pole dancing bar. Set in chilly, deepest Fermont, Canada, at a huge mine, don your hard hat and watch it as a companion to Massive Machines (Discovery) which joyfully scoop up the earth.