Netflix’s manipulative, bloated series tells us nothing new Deep Ocean Live: The Dive
The controversy swirling around Netflix’s Madeleine Mccann documentary has, in the end, proved more sensational than the actual series. Delays and reports of wrangling behind the scenes raised the possibility of explosive new revelations as the streaming service applied the true crime formula pioneered by Making a Murderer to the mystery of the little girl who vanished from an Algarve holiday apartment in May 2007 as her parents enjoyed a meal with friends 100 yards away.
Alas, The Disappearance of Madeleine Mccann simply confirms that the true crime genre has become prisoner to its crassest tendencies. The eight-part series is somehow at once overwrought and melodramatic and also crashingly turgid. Kate and Gerry Mccann refused to participate and are said to have urged friends likewise to decline director Chris Smith’s advances. It’s not hard to see why.
This is exploitative filmmaking on auto-pilot, a box-ticking re-hashing of the case. At eight hours, it is far too long. Without the Mccanns, Smith (director of Netflix’s excellent recent Fyre documentary) casts about widely for focus. He draws his sights on the Portuguese police. Their theory that Madeleine’s parents had been drugging and accidentally overdosed their daughter is debunked, but only after Smith cynically leads us to believe the authorities are indeed justified in briefly naming Kate as an official suspect.
The series is horribly manipulative. “I probably didn’t really like him. It wasn’t a warm engagement,” says Jim Gamble, former chief executive of the Child Exploitation and Online Protection Centre, of his first encounter with buttoned-down Gerry. Later, Gamble recalls giving the father a pep talk in which he declares that whoever knows something about the disappearance should come forward while they have a chance (nudge, nudge Gerry). Gamble at this point is explicitly portrayed as suspecting the parents (although he has since come to believe that the Mccanns had nothing to do with the disappearance). It is a suspicion we are encouraged to share. Yet, in the next episode, the rug appears to be pulled away. Beneath the glossy production values, Smith stoops to the tawdriest bait and switch. The only intention is keeping us glued.
A bigger issue is sheer overfamiliarity. Among Netflix’s international subscriber base the basic facts of the case may be fresh and gripping. To anyone who has lived with the story since 2007, the déjà-vu soon becomes exhausting.
There’s also nothing else – no compelling theories, no new witnesses or evidence. Viewers may wish they had followed the example of the Mccanns and steered clear. Ed Power
One Red Nose Day and a Wedding (BBC One, Friday), the centrepiece of Comic Relief ’s five-hour BBC telethon, should have provided some light relief. But, sadly, this 12-minute mini-sequel to Four Weddings and a Funeral was something of a damp squib.
The ceremony in question, a closely guarded secret in the run-up to Red Nose Day, turned out to be a lesbian wedding between Miranda (Lily James) – daughter of Charles (Hugh Grant) and Carrie (Andie Macdowell) – and Faith (Alicia Vikander), daughter of Fiona (Kristin Scott Thomas).
Their nuptials took place in north London enclave Islington and were as clumsily right-on as that location suggested. What their union gained in political correctness, it lost in comedy, chemistry or convincing emotion. Most of the much-loved original cast were present and correct – stalwarts such as John Hannah, David Haig and Anna Chancellor – but woefully underused. Rowan Atkinson’s gaffe-prone vicar, fumbling with the fact that two women were marrying, was one overlong, painfully outdated gag. The reception’s highlight was Grant’s father-of-the-bride speech, all bumbling Britishness and crinklyeyed charm.
Proceedings were so stilted it seemed like the actors were never in the same room together, although they actually were. Even the musical guest was a disappointment. It had been rumoured that the wedding singer would be mega-selling troubadour Ed Sheeran. Instead we got his less interesting facsimile: charismavacuum Sam Smith.
Four Weddings creator and Comic Relief co-founder Richard Curtis wrote this new instalment and teased: “I think there’ll be three laughs and two tears.” His script elicited neither reaction. Michael Hogan
The Disappearance of Madeleine Mccann ★★
Comic Relief: One Red Nose Day and a Wedding ★★