So harrowing it’s easier to pretend it’s only fiction
Ihave a confession to make about (ITV) and that’s that I’m watching it purely as a gripping thriller. It’s much less harrowing that way. With a production this compelling, it’s fairly easy to forget this is a true story. Writer-producer Jeff Pope – of Appropriate Adult, Mrs Biggs, The Moorside and Little Boy Blue pedigree – has carved out a reputation as the go-to guy for fact-based crime drama. Pope’s restrained writing and the believable performances from its ensemble cast meant this tense police procedural felt immersive and immediate, rather than like a fictionalised account of familiar events.
The second episode saw Det Supt Steve Fulcher (Martin Freeman) continue the search for the mystery driver involved in the 2011 disappearance of 22-year-old Sian Callaghan. The skill and dedication of Fulcher’s team at Wiltshire Police was reassuring, as they tirelessly combed the area and painstakingly scoured CCTV footage – finally achieving a breakthrough.
At last they had a chief suspect in local minicab driver Christopher Halliwell (Joe Absolom) but Fulcher decided to leave Halliwell “in play” and place him under surveillance in
the hope that if he was the abductor and Sian was still alive, he might lead them to her.
They released fabricated statements to the media in the hope of spooking Halliwell into making a mistake. Detectives posed as taxi passengers to crank up the pressure. It was a bold strategy and Fulcher’s superiors were at pains to cover their backsides. When Halliwell went into a chemist’s and bought four packs of paracetamol, Fulcher had to concede he was a suicide risk and reluctantly arrest him.
Finally, Fulcher made the fateful decision to deliberately breach police procedure and interview Halliwell without cautioning him or a lawyer present. With a predatory serial killer caught and a young woman’s life potentially at stake, who could blame him?
The ensemble cast was terrific but outshining Freeman and Siobhan Finneran (typically superb as Sian’s mother Elaine) was Imelda Staunton as Karen Edwards – the mother of Becky Godden, who disappeared eight years earlier and lived just a few doors away. We saw her in flashback, battling to break her daughter’s heroin addiction, and in the present day, still searching, still convincing herself that Becky might walk through the door at any moment.
Staunton’s portrayal of grief, denial and brittle desperation was just heartbreaking. Focusing on the female victims and their families, not just the heroic detective, wasn’t just dramatically satisfying but prevented this excellent series from becoming exploitative. Riveting, certainly, but responsible too.
‘Next time you’re at the checkout and you hear the beep, think of all the fun you could be having on Supermarket Sweep.” Not the snappiest of catchphrases but one familiar to a generation of viewers who wasted hours watching the knowingly naff Nineties game show. OK, I admit I was among them. In my defence, I was a student at the time. Us work-shy fops would watch anything to avoid actually studying.
Supermarket Sweep (ITV2) saw former-x-factor-star-turned-presenter Rylan Clark-neal step into the loafers of late, lamented host Dale Winton for an unlikely revival of the cult quiz. As “store manager”, he put three pairs of contestants (one of whom was, improbably, a Michael Bublé impersonator) through their paces. Their aim was to clock up enough time to “go wild in the aisles” during the climactic, chaotic trolley dash. When “brainy besties” Kyle and Brendan romped to victory and took home the £3,000 cash prize, Clark-neal was genuinely chuffed for them.
Clark-neal was all teeth and tan, like a game show host should be. He used to bunk off school to watch the original and was palpably thrilled to be fronting this reboot. It takes a certain kind of chutzpah to carry it off – taking it deadly seriously at times, tongue firmly in cheek at others – and Clark-neal was a natural.
ITV obligingly roped in some in-house “talent” – Eamonn Holmes, Ruth Langsford, Fizz from Coronation Street, Maura from Love Island – as low-rent celebrity guests. The candycoloured set was migraine-inducing. The camp puns were groan-worthy. The whole confection was as cheesy as the dairy aisle yet irresistibly charming. Sadly, I don’t have the excuse of being a student anymore.
A Confession Supermarket Sweep