The Courier & Advertiser (Fife Edition)
McGovern’s drama once again shows us real issues
CARE Sunday, BBC One SIR CLIFF RICHARD: 60 YEARS IN PUBLIC AND IN PRIVATE Monday, STV
Jimmy McGovern is pretty much the last man standing from that once fecund breed of compassionate left-wing television dramatists with something important to say.
Once he hangs up his spurs, I doubt we’ll see his like again. To be honest, I’m amazed that, after eight years of successive Tory governments breathing down their neck, the BBC still allows him free reign. Hats off to them for that.
I suspect it’s because McGovern dramas like CARE carry a weight of prestige while attracting healthy viewing figures. The fact that millions of people still engage with his work is enough to restore your faith in human nature.
He co-wrote this emotionally raw
90-minute piece with Gillian Juckes, whose real life experience informed the story of a single mother (Sheridan Smith) struggling to cope with a widowed mother (Alison Steadman) struck down by a stroke and dementia.
Mary was initially depicted as a vibrant older lady. One day, while driving her granddaughters home from school, she collapsed at the wheel. When she awoke, she’d regressed to a physically and mentally helpless state. Utterly incapable of looking after herself, Mary was left with her daughters Jenny (Smith) and Claire (Sinead Keenan).
They dealt with this sudden role reversal in sharply differing ways. Jenny automatically adopted the role of carer, while childless Claire distanced herself.
I was initially concerned McGovern and Juckes were attempting to argue that women who don’t or can’t have children lack the natural empathy of someone like Jenny, but those fears were allayed as this commendably
– and realistically – balanced drama progressed.
Though highly critical of NHS bureaucracy, Care sighed with sympathy for all concerned. It alerted viewers to the life-saving benefits of NHS Continuing Healthcare, while standing up for dedicated yet understaffed and underfunded care workers. Naturally, it reserved most of its compassion for people with dementia and their families.
Steadman, Smith and Keenan were outstanding. Steadman, in a largely nonverbal role – Mary’s confused attempts at speech were indecipherable, but occasionally translated via subtitles – captured the frustration, fear and confusion of someone with severe dementia who nevertheless had lucid moments. Smith and Keenan – the latter acting as McGovern and Jucke’s angry mouthpiece, but a rounded character in her own right – were utterly convincing as tired, decent people struggling to provide their mother with a dignified quality of life.
It was a valuable piece of public service broadcasting that never felt overly earnest or proscriptive.
Much has been made of SIR CLIFF RICHARD: 60 YEARS IN PUBLIC AND IN PRIVATE – a documentary in which the pop veteran opened up over his successful court case against the BBC – appearing on rival ITV. But Cliff has always insisted he has no have a problem with the BBC in general, just its news coverage.
He came across as understandably angry, emotional and defiant in this profile, during which he spoke about the nightmarish experience of defending his name against allegations of sexual assault.
Cliff was never arrested or charged, but those highly publicised allegations brought him to the verge of a nervous breakdown.
This was a puff piece, of course, an extended advert for his new album and the wholesome Cliff brand in general. Nevertheless, it contained moments in which he came across as an actual human being as opposed to a carefully controlled media avatar. For that reason alone, it was quite revealing.