Why has Motherland descended into farce?
Irealise this is the very definition of middle-class problems but when a character in Motherland
(BBC Two) repeatedly shouted orders at her Amazon Alexa, our home’s own Alexa kept responding too. I had to make a panicked dash across the sitting room and turn it off before it accidentally ordered 300 toilet rolls or something. As TV programmes reflect the technological realities of 21st century life, this could become a growing problem. Our voice-activated devices might start talking to each other behind our backs. Heaven knows what evil plans they’ll hatch between them.
Sadly my minor domestic farce proved the most amusing aspect as the disappointing parenting sitcom returned for a second series. At the start of the school term, a breezy new arrival at the gates attracted the attention of the cynical old lags. Was high-flying mother-of-five Meg (Tanya Moodie) really a feminist force of nature who had it all? “Where’s your secret sadness?” wondered antiheroine Julia (Anna Maxwell Martin).
The truth emerged on a night out which culminated in drunken snogs, copious vomiting, flashing at bus drivers, falling downstairs and a police caution for urinating in the street. Julia watched Meg’s antics aghast and admitted: “She’s ‘work hard, play hard’. I’m more ‘work hard, watch Poldark hard’.”
By rights, Motherland should have been more subtle than this. It’s written by the gifted trio of Sharon Horgan, Holly Walsh and Helen Linehan. Their script threw in contemporary references to Uber, Deliveroo, TED talks and Harvey Weinstein. The cast was high-calibre. Yet it ended up less than the sum of its promising parts.
It aimed to be a satire on competitive parenting culture. The trouble is, striving, neurotic parents tend to be deeply annoying to watch. Characters were reduced to bitchy stereotypes or pantomime ciphers without the crucial ring of truth. Even the token male at the school gates, wet and weedy Kevin (Paul Ready), gave hands-on fathers a bad name. All the funniest lines went to sarky single mother Liz (Diane Morgan).
Cynical and spiky, this opening episode lacked the warmth and heart of Horgan’s other creations, notably
Catastrophe. Instead it descended into implausible slapstick, populated by unlikeable characters. Alexa, cancel my series link.
The final episode of A Confession
(ITV) confirmed its status as one of the year’s best dramas. There might be far too much true crime on TV but when it’s done this well, all is forgiven.
It had been three years since the controversial investigation that led to his resignation and detective Steve Fulcher (Martin Freeman) was now in Libya, reluctantly working as a security consultant. Back home in Swindon, Fulcher’s former colleagues continued to look for ways to charge serial killer Christopher Halliwell (Joe Absolom). When the case was reopened, Fulcher returned to help the Wiltshire Police force that had hung him out to dry.
Even though we knew the outcome, the murder trial was rivetingly tense. Conducting his own defence, Halliwell got to cross-examine Fulcher – two foes crossing swords one final time. “It was a pleasure ruining your career, you corrupt b-----d,” sneered Halliwell. Absolom physically transformed in these scenes, contorting his face into ghastly smirks and grimaces.
When the verdict came, there were tears of relief but no redemptive Hollywood ending, just a realistic lack of complete closure. “Halliwell was right,” acknowledged Fulcher. “In order to bring him down, I also had to lose everything, as if it were some kind of pact between us.”
As mothers dealing with the same agony in contrasting ways, Imelda Staunton and Siobhan Finneran both delivered heartbreaking performances. When her family suggested Elaine (Finneran) talk to Karen (Staunton) outside the courtroom, she numbly muttered: “I can’t. It’s too close.”
Before the credits rolled, tributes to the real-life victims Sian O’callaghan and Becky Godden-edwards appeared on-screen. These featured poignant childhood photographs – a reminder that this wasn’t so much a story of cop versus killer as two lives brutally taken. It was a gut-punchingly powerful flourish but a fitting way to end.
Written by Jeff Pope with delicate precision, full of telling little moments and superbly played by the ensemble cast, A Confession has proved a far, far better drama than anyone could have reasonably expected. Everyone involved deserves great credit.