A fierce, urgent and eloquent document of racial history
From the perspective of 2021, in a world of “microaggressions” and accusations of dogwhistle politics, it was genuinely startling to watch the final episode of Uprising (BBC One) and witness the following exchange from the early 1980s. An interviewer asked Les Curtis, then chairman of the Police Federation, if a police officer should lose his job for using the N-word to address a black man. “No, indeed not. Why should he be dismissed for calling him a n----r?” “Because it’s a term of abuse?” offered the interviewer. “That’s a matter of opinion,” Curtis replied.
The contributors to Steve Mcqueen’s documentary series, which revisited the 1981 New Cross fire and the Brixton riots of that same year, spoke fiercely and eloquently of the racism they suffered at the hands of the police. So it was not a surprise that a police representative held those beliefs, but to hear them expressed so openly was something else.
Uprising is a companion piece to Mcqueen’s Small Axe drama series, documenting the experiences of black Britons. It is a project made with love and care and a sense of outrage that the fire, which claimed 13 young lives, has received so little attention. The second episode explored the activism born of
those times. The third episode dealt with the riots in Brixton that spread across the country – just when Britain was supposedly united in happiness at the prospect of a royal wedding.
Calling them “riots” is a loaded term. Here, they were “uprisings” against police oppression. One man described the experience of being stopped and searched: “People think it’s, ‘Oh, I just want to check your pockets.’ It wasn’t like that. When they stopped you, it was a punch first.’” That man went on to arm himself with a scaffolding pole during the unrest, declaring that “we wanted to hurt the police any way we could.” Mcqueen included several police officers among the contributors, who spoke of fearing for their lives.
Alex Wheatle, the writer and subject of one of the Small Axe films, said: “People might doubt our methods, but no doubt it made people take notice that if you’re oppressing people for so long, one day they’re going to rise up.”
Small Axe aired last year to critical acclaim but low ratings. Uprising, I imagine, will do the same. It’s not easy viewing. But it is timely. Earlier this month, Mcqueen explained why it needed to be made. “We have to get through the trauma to get to the joy,” he said. “People want to go straight to the joy… but unfortunately we’ve got to do the homework.” Anita Singh
There is a fine line between sweetness and schmaltz. Season one of Ted Lasso, Apple TV+’S fish-out-of-water comedy about a relentlessly upbeat American Football coach foisted on a floundering English football team, hovered just the right side of that line. It was like it was constantly dodging an offside trap, and, as football fans know but Ted Lasso definitely doesn’t, if you dodge the offside trap you’re going to score goals.
Sensibly, season two of Ted Lasso doesn’t mess with the formula. Ted (Jason Sudeikis) is a little more conversant with the ways of the football world, a little less Lone Star Rodeo in a Wedgwood china shop with the subtleties of English society and conversation, but the folksy motivational speeches and distended metaphors remain. A lot of humour is repetition, and some jokes – Roy Kent (Brett Goldstein), who is basically Roy Keane, swearing at children, for example – never get old.
The opening double bill (available from today with the rest of the series airing weekly) kicks off as Richmond FC begin the season in something of a slump – relegated, seven draws from seven, their top striker with a nasty case of the yips after missing a crucial penalty. That’s the plot cue to bring in a new character, in the form of Sarah Niles’s psychologist Sharon, and she’s a brilliant addition – the show has always hinted that Ted’s unyielding positivity is a defence against some hurt back home; well, here’s Sharon to pick that apart. Of course, no one wants too much learning in Ted Lasso, but it’s a subtle new layer and a welcome one.
The strange thing about the first series was that no matter how slushy it got, it never failed to redeem itself with a very funny, often quite risqué gag. It made for an odd amalgam – a sweet, family comedy that was completely unsuitable for all the family.
If anything, series two is schmaltzier – look out for a mid-season Christmas episode that is nose-pinchingly cheesy. Yet once again, Lasso conquers all: Sudeikis’s performance is masterful, showing that good men have depths too, and kindness can be just as interesting as meanness. Benji Wilson
Uprising ★★★★ Ted Lasso ★★★★