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Alison Rowat’s TV review
SOON after Line of Duty (BBC1, Sunday) ended, #disappointing began trending on Twitter to sum up the nation’s feelings at Brummie DCI Ian Buckells being revealed as criminal mastermind “H”.
Perhaps after a build-up of nine years, almost any finale would fail to satisfy. The disgruntled were right, though. Being generous, you could see an argument for Buckells: the police had become so dysfunctional that everyday idiots like him could rise up the ranks, etc. Still, there was a whiff of Scooby Doo, “let’s choose a random character that has only been in the show for a relatively fleeting time” about the choice. It would have made almost as much sense had H turned out to be the wee donkey Ted was fond of citing.
Still, a record 13 million viewers on Sunday night, showing that if you build great drama – and in its heyday Line of Duty truly was the business – the viewers will come.
The Syndicate (BBC1, Tuesday)
was the textbook example of how to wind up a series. Over six weeks we had watched a group of kennel workers try to get their paws on a
£27 million lottery win swiped from them by greedy newsagent Frank (Neil Morrissey). Was writer Fay Mellor going to turn viewers away empty-handed, even though this was the fourth series and everyone could guess the way things would go? No, she was not.
It was not all predictable. Gemma’s dilemma about her dad was solved in one shocking swoop. If you thought Line of Duty creator Jed Mercurio was ruthless, try Mellor. In the end, nice things happened to good people, which is as it should be. Oh, and Duke the Irish wolfhound was rescued from a foreign dog pound to make a triumphant return. Watch and learn, Jed lad.
There were so many world-class intellects contributing to The Violence Paradox (BBC4, Tuesday)
you could almost feel yourself getting smarter by televisual osmosis. This two-part documentary examined the idea, brought to the fore by Harvard psychologist Steven Pinker, that humanity was not going to hell in a handcart. Contrary to what we might think from watching the news, society was becoming less violent and we should note this golden age for fear of slipping backwards.
With his Old Testament hair and crisp eloquence, Pinker was a compelling advocate. “The medievals were, in a word, gross,” he sniffed before their misconduct was listed (urinating in public, copulating in public ...).
Some of the statistical comparisons were clever but a tad slippery. For example, fewer people were killed in the Second World War than by Genghis Khan, if the dead were measured as a proportion of those living at the time. That’s a big if.
On balance, Pinker had a point.
But so did those who disagreed with his optimism. For a lot of people, but not everyone, violence had decreased. As ever, it depended on where you lived, income, life chances and so on. So same old, same old, but a fascinating trot through the centuries. Alas, the IQ resumed previous levels as soon as the programme was over.
The Money Maker (Channel 4, Tuesday) was Channel 4’s riff on Dragons’ Den, but with just one fiery breather instead of the BBC’s five (typical overmanning by Auntie).
Eric Collins was an entrepreneur from Alabama who said he wanted to do two things: make money and help those who deserved a hand up. “Profit with a purpose,” he called it. His first subject was an invisible mending firm in Manchester. Everyone was working hard but the company was still bumping along the bottom. Enter Collins with advice, visits to other firms and introductions to possible new clients.
There were the usual, strained attempts to generate drama from minor crises, but Collins was an intriguing character who managed to make business studies interesting. Capitalism with a human face.
Johnny Vegas: Carry on Glamping (Channel 4, Wednesday) was a rum do. The premise was that the comedian was getting on a bit (he’s only 50) so was looking for something creative he could do outside the usual panel show and stand-up circuit. His plan: to set up the UK’s coolest glamping site with old camper vans done up to look posh. But here was the joke: he had no experience in the, er, field, or much of a head for business, so almost everything that could go wrong, did. The bus he bought for £5,500 turned out to need £45,000 of repairs, for instance.
As a “how to” business guide it was useless, but as a sideways look at mid-life and the comedy game there could be something in it. If not there is always Vegas’s assistant Bev, who is the Lynn to Vegas’s northern, more congenial Partridge. The two of them have been working together for 20 years and he’s made a living in a notoriously precarious business, so he can’t be as green as he is cabbage-looking.
ALISON ROWAT
AFTER a dearth of drama during the pandemic viewers can feel spoiled this week with at least two offerings sure to be in the running for awards and acclaim when the time comes.
Fargo (Channel 4, Sunday, 10pm) returns to the badlands of Kansas City for a 1950-set series. Noah Hawley’s whip-smart and delightfully cynical crime drama, now on its fourth outing, has distinguished itself down the years with big-name, sometimes surprising, casting. This time, it is Chris Rock adding his name to a list that includes Billy Bob Thornton, Martin Freeman, Ted Danson and Ewan McGregor.
The stand-up superstar plays Loy Cannon, part of a band of African-American gangsters who want to take the ItalianAmerican mob on at their own game. Wonder how that works out. As added treats, also showing up are Jessie Buckley (Wild Rose), Jason Schwartzman (Rushmore), Ben Whishaw (voice of Paddington) and Timothy Olyphant (Justified).
Three Families (BBC1,
Monday and Tuesday, 9pm) is written and created by Gwyneth Hughes, who wrote the equally outstanding mini-series Honour, with Keeley Hawes as a DCI on a murder hunt. Based on true stories, Three Families is set in a Northern Ireland yet to match the rest of the UK in offering women access to abortion. The women whose stories are told are vastly different but their suffering, particularly at the hands of officialdom, is the same. The superb cast includes Sinead Keenan (Little Boy Blue) and Royal Conservatoire graduate Colin Morgan (Humans).
Did you watch the World Snooker Championship final last week? I did not. It’s an admission that would once have been unthinkable given how in love I was with the game. In the words of Chas & Dave, I was snooker loopy nuts for it, and even more so for pool. Even had my own cue. I was useless in comparison with the real talent in the family, but I had a go.
As can be seen in Gods of Snooker (BBC2, Sunday, 9pm),
my generation of fans was thoroughly spoiled. This was the age of Hurricane Higgins (a bag of nerves on legs: when he was good he was brilliant; if he wasn’t in the mood, watch out); of Dennis Taylor, whose funny antics with his specs were a match for Eric Morecambe’s); of Steve “Interesting” Davies. That was how cool snooker was: we could be ironic about it. When Taylor played Davies in the 1985 final, 18.5 million people stayed up till after midnight to see who won. Take that, Netflix.
Another must-see of the time was the show Pot Black (commissioned by one David Attenborough, then slumming it as a BBC chief), with its famous theme tune. On Pot Black you could see even more exotic creatures, such as Cliff Thorburn and his magnificent moustache.
The three-part documentary Gods of Snooker opens with the real rock star of the bunch, Alex Higgins. Born in Belfast in 1949, Higgins misspent his youth in snooker halls. He wanted to be a jockey but it was snooker that made him world famous. Wildly popular with a section of fans, Higgins was the “people’s champion” who had come to
grab boring old snooker by the scruff of the neck and give it a good shake. He was fast, hence the nickname, but most of all he was furious, especially with what he saw as the game’s old guard, typified by Ray Reardon. After a rivalry stretching through the 1970s, the old king and the young pretender met in the World Championship final of 1982. No spoilers here about the winner – see for yourself.
The second part looks in depth at Davis and the arrival of serious money in the game courtesy of promoter Barry Hearn. The final strand takes the story on to Jimmy White, a tornado to match Higgins’ hurricane and a gift to the tabloids, before a young Scot by the name of Stephen Hendry comes along. An enjoyable, long overdue look at a sport that was always so much more than a game.
There will be cheering among
Hurricane Higgins was fast, hence the nickname, but most of all he was furious
many a parent for the return of Motherland (BBC2, Monday, 9pm). If you like your families more Simpsons than Waltons, this sitcom is for you. The third series finds the gang of mums wrestling with an outbreak of nits at school. The school briefing, a riff on the Downing Street Covid presentations, is typically Motherland: just that little bit edgier than most of its comedy kind and the better for it. Later, Julia, the central character, and the most harassed of the bunch, is seen in the bathroom screaming into a pile of towels. As if any parent ever does that.
Julia is played by Anna Maxwell Martin, aka DCS Patricia Carmichael in Line of Duty. The two characters could not be more different, one is an ice queen, the other a flake, one can run a large team of officers, the other can’t handle a nit comb to save her life. Anna Maxwell Martin as Everywoman.