The Herald - The Herald Magazine
Our House was beyond silly. What were you thinking, Mr Compston?
THERE was a worry that the new Martin Compston drama Our House (ITV, from Monday) was perhaps a dark comedy in disguise. Come on, you must have thought so too? There was his character, Bram, (short for Brammer – or Bramble?) in the potting shed, laying on top of his very attractive neighbour – and he declares to his surprised wife, who had just arrived: “It’s not what it looks like.”
Didn’t you laugh? What was it then, Bram the stoker? Had your attractive neighbour slipped on some compost and slid underneath you? Had you been stimulating her nether regions in order to bring her round?
But it wasn’t a comedy at all. In fact, there was a lot of attempted serious stuff going on.
The story featured his estranged wife Fiona (Tuppence Middleton) who arrived home in London to find strangers moving in, and her belongings had gone the way of her faculties.
Fiona reckoned her home was sold accidentally, but then she has to consider that the bold Bram must be involved, because he’s nowhere to be found either.
We then learned of their backstory in a series of flash backs and realised the months leading up to this point were part of a chain of preposterous events. Our sensibilities could well cope with the marital infidelity; the period of lockdown has put immeasurable strain on relationships and this four-parter looked to how the disintegration of a marriage could come about.
So far so good. But the plot lines involving blackmail, new affairs and revenge were sillier than a Maypole clog dance in January.
Martin Compston has attached himself cleverly to a range of TV projects that have not only avoided being ratings stinkers, but he’s often picked very good scripts.
Line of Duty is almost off the scale successful, and the Nest allowed the Scot to play an angular character.
Yes, he didn’t have too much to do in submarine series Vigil, largely because he was dead, but the actor at least showed the good sense to play a minor-major character, which set him aside from the show’s much-deserved
criticism. On the evidence of Our House however, he needs to become a little more discerning.
That’s also the case with the cast of
The Witchfinder, (Tuesday, BBC2).
To be generous, this attempt to create comedy (black) magic looked to be challenging.
After all, witchfinders were murdering 16th century marauders who travelled the country terrorising, raping and abusing women. Not always a world in which to find fun and laughter.
The hoped-for plan involved Tim Key’s Gideon Barrister being a funny sociopath with a hint of decency, all dependent upon his haplessness yet hampered, slightly, by his job description.
But the humanitarian corridors didn’t open up in the way the writers anticipated. Sadly, there are only so many times an abuser can appear to be remotely comedic thanks to his lack of brains.
If you enter a world of inherent evil and darkness, you need to find exactly the tone. It takes a Mel Brooks, for example, to find laughs in Nazism. The script consultant behind this series is Steve Coogan. Coogan would do well to watch The Producers.
This series will drown like many of Britain’s witches once did. And
Nicola Sturgeon’s attempts to give it the kiss of life via her witches pardon will have the opposite effect.
Even Michael Mosley: Who Made Britain Fat? (C4, Wednesday) would have struggled to help the witchery comedy to breathe. The very good telly doctor produces terrific television however and this documentary was no exception.
Mosley looked at the forces to blame for Britain having the second highest rate of obesity in Europe (behind Malta). Obesity, of course, leads to high rates of cancers, such as breast cancer, as well as other lifeshortening diseases, including type 2 diabetes.
By October, large food stores should look very different. There will be no chocolate or other unhealthy treats near the entrance, the ends of aisles or by the tills; and by January
2023 there will be severe restrictions on junk food advertising, both online and before the 9pm watershed on TV.
Will this help? Maybe but there’s another problem Britain can’t seem to stomach. We have ditched the adjective ‘fat’ for fear of being labelled body shamers. How far should a society go in order to protect its (overweight) citizens from themselves?
And how far should we go to encourage the reheating of iconic films and TV series? The Ipcress File
(ITV, Sunday) wasn’t bad at all. It featured a good score rate of dark comedy. But it was hard not to remember Michael Caine in the role.
And Joe Cole’s Harry Palmer looked an unlikely contender to save the world from the Russians. Perhaps more likely to play the polo-necked bass player in an art school band.