This all-star whodunit was well worth the wait
Delayed gratification is good. Ordeal by
Innocence (BBC One, Sunday), an all-star Agatha Christie adaptation from screenwriter Sarah Phelps, was supposed to air last Christmas. However, rape allegations were made against actor Ed Westwick, who had the key role of Mickey Argyll. He denied the accusations but in the midst of the #metoo movement, the BBC wisely decided to pull the miniseries from the festive schedules, reshoot Westwick’s scenes with a replacement actor (Christian Cooke, rather good) and screen it a few months later. Which happily coincided with another holiday when viewers stuffed with roast meats, chocolate and cheer were seeking some premium period crime drama to slump in front of.
The three-parter opened with woozy footage of a wealthy philanthropist (Anna Chancellor) being murdered – cue dripping blood and screaming housemaids – before flashing forward. Her widower (reliably dapper Bill Nighy) was set to remarry, 18 months after their delinquent adopted son was arrested for the crime before dying himself in prison. The wedding preparations were suddenly disrupted by the arrival of a mysterious scientist, claiming to hold the alibi that proved the supposed killer was innocent. Had police got the wrong man? Was the murderer still at large?
Initially, it was ponderous and confusing, with time-hops and a wide cast of characters, including too many handsomely angsty brown-haired young men. Everyone had a signature flaw: morphine addiction, alcoholism, self-harm, terminal rudeness, wonky teeth. The Argylls were a damaged family, broiling with dark secrets.
The backdrop of Fifties Cold War paranoia added to an atmosphere of foreboding and mutual suspicion, while the setting – Inverclyde’s Ardgowan House stood in for family estate Sunny Point – looked ravishing, all velveteen lawns, trailing wisteria and sweeping staircases.
The pace steadily picked up and like so many Christie classics, it became a glorified game of Cluedo. Was it the wheelchair-bound flying ace (Matthew Goode, playing the rotter with relish), the all-knowing housekeeper (moody Morven Christie), the bullied daughter (Eleanor Tomlinson, on secondment from duties as Poldark’s Demelza) or one of the other adopted children, probably in the billiard room with the lead piping?
By the end of the hour, this whodunit had its hooks into me. For a while back there, I feared this grippingly Gothic adaptation would never see the light of day. I’m delighted it has.
Dec without Ant on Saturday Night Takeaway (ITV) felt deeply strange. The Geordie duo always appear in the same formation – Ant on the left and Dec on the right, as viewers look at their screens – but here there was a void where Ant usually stands. It was like Morecambe without Wise or fish without chips. Viewers could be forgiven for thinking their television was on the blink.
Declan Donnelly hosted the programme without Anthony Mcpartlin, who has returned to rehab following his recent drink-driving charge. Without his best buddy – with whom he’s enjoyed a three-decade on-screen bromance – it was impossible not to root for Donnelly. He duly delivered. This was an efficient entertainment machine, skilfully steered.
Donnelly looked a little lonely as he entered down the studio stairs on his own and was palpably nervous during his opening link. Seeming to realise how much viewers were willing him on, he soon settled down. No explicit mention was made of Mcpartlin’s troubles. Donnelly instead nodded to them with jokey asides.
Viewers were intrigued to see how he’d cope without his foil but they need not have worried. We were in the capable hands of a consummate profeshional. Donnelly worked well with the audience, radiating warmth. He accidentally dropped a carton of popcorn, as if to remind us this was live TV.
If one of Ant or Dec had to go solo, Donnelly was the better bet. A bouncy Easter bunny of a man, he’s the more chipper and cuddly of the duo. The 42-year-old wouldn’t want to go it alone permanently but on this evidence, he would thrive if he did.
The old-fashioned feast of variety took in music, comedy and copious competitions. It also settled that perennial question of which one’s Ant and which one’s Dec. Ant was the one who wasn’t there. Dec was the one who needed a lie-down after a job well done.