This article was first published in The Courier on 3rd February 2018.
REQUIEM: Friday, BBC One
ALL TOGETHER NOW: Saturday, BBC One
A
fairly enjoyable slice of hokum, six-part drama REQUIEM blends psychological horror with a dose of the supernatural.
Or
does it? The ghostly trappings are possibly a red herring. Either way, it’s
quite intriguing and boasts a patina of self-awareness that nudges it
beyond bog-standard haunted house territory.
Lydia
Wilson stars as Matilda, a young woman who falls down a rabbit hole of secrets when
her mother inexplicably kills herself. On the day of her death, Matilda’s
mother (Hello, Floyd fans!) was apparently visited by a hoarse spectre. Did
this scrofulous wraith encourage her to slit her throat in front of Matilda?
24
hours earlier, an old country squire from a Welsh village also received an
unearthly visitation. His response was to smash every mirror in his mansion and
jump off the roof.
These
startling events were connected, of course. Matilda visited her late mother’s
house and discovered a box containing press cuttings relating to the 1995
disappearance of a young girl named Carys from that same Welsh village.
Why
was she so interested in this case? Mildly intrigued, Matilda and her mate –
who provides an adequately droll running commentary during their amateur
Scooby-Doo investigation – travelled to Wales to find out more.
There
they met some standard issue suspicious locals and a bland Australian who by
sheer coincidence – or was it supernatural guidance? – was moving into the
mansion he’d inherited from his recently deceased uncle/that aforementioned gravel-bound
squire. Naturally, Matilda and her pal moved in too.
This
spooky pile of bricks plays host to that hardy perennial, a mysteriously locked
room that the protagonist is instantly drawn to. What’s more, the door is
affixed with a number 9, which must surely be a nod to Pemberton and
Shearsmith’s wonderful anthology series (I’ll ignore the fact that private residences
don’t tend to contain numbered rooms).
The
possibly inadvertent meta references continued when Matilda discovered an
actual black mirror – Wilson appeared in the very first episode of Charlie
Brooker’s techno-fearing Twilight Zone.
Gazing into this matte disc suddenly brought her nagging sense of déjà vu into
dizzying focus. Not only had she been here before, she thinks she actually is Carys.
That
might explain why Matilda is such a blank character. She’s suffering an
identity crisis. Yes, that must be it. How else to explain her almost breezy
demeanour following a harrowing event that would traumatise most people?
This
mechanical maze could easily descend into outright nonsense without a firm
guiding hand. It’s already balancing precariously on that knife’s edge, but episode
one did manage to establish the central mystery quite effectively.
It’s
stuffed to the shivering gills with affectionate references to the likes of Rosemary’s Baby, The Haunting, The Exorcist and
– with its gurgling, guttural, pipes-banging audio effects – the classic ‘70s
BBC production of Nigel Kneale’s The
Stone Tape and notorious early ‘90s cause celebre Ghostwatch. Chiefly for those reasons, I’m cautiously on its side.
It’s
a question we’ve all asked ourselves: what would happen if you mixed Celebrity Squares and The Voice into one great shrieking casserole
of Saturday night folderol?
The
answer at last is ALL TOGETHER NOW,
a pointless talent show in which a bunch of singing hopefuls perform in front
of 100 judges seated in a large Connect Four/Guess Who? grid. If they enjoy the
performance then they stand up and sing along. The bigger the chorus of support,
the closer the contestants get to the grand £50,000 prize.
It
really is that simple.
Despite
the presence of a studio audience, this aching headlock of forced gaiety has a
curiously airless atmosphere. Whatever energy it may have possessed has been
heavily edited and neutered. There’s no tension or sparkle. It’s a shiny blast
of nothing.
Chirpy
comic Rob Beckett does a passable job of hosting, but Geri Halliwell is
lumbered with a redundant supporting role. No good will come of this.
No comments:
Post a Comment