TV Review: THE INTERROGATION OF TONY MARTIN + DAVID CASSIDY: THE LAST SESSION

This article was originally published in The Courier on 24 November 2018.

https://www.thecourier.co.uk/category/lifestyle/entertainment/tv-film/

THE INTERROGATION OF TONY MARTIN: Sunday, Channel 4

DAVID CASSIDY: THE LAST SESSION: Friday, BBC Four

On the night of 20 August 1999, farmer Tony Martin shot and killed teenage burglar Fred Barras. Martin always claimed he acted in self-defence, despite the intruder being unarmed. Martin shot Barras in the back. He eventually served three years of a life sentence, after the original murder charge was reduced to manslaughter.

This case became a political cause celebre. Right-wingers were generally supportive of Martin’s right to protect his property. People capable of more nuanced thought patterns were dismayed by the notion of a binary society in which violent vigilante justice is considered acceptable.

Was Tony Martin a victim? Of crime, certainly. Were his actions justified? Absolutely not. However, what do we really know about him? The claustrophobic factual drama, THE INTERROGATION OF TONY MARTIN, sought to reveal more about this infamous figure via verbatim transcripts of his police interviews.

Largely set within the confines of an interrogation room, it began on the day after the crime took place. Martin (a mesmerising performance from Steve Pemberton) initially came across as a lonely, frightened, confused and vulnerable man experiencing a waking nightmare. He seemed quite sympathetic.

One of Pemberton’s greatest gifts is his unerring ability to imbue ostensibly off-putting characters with traces of ambiguity and pathos.

Martin tried to explain his fearful personality – in the words of his mother, “My son is very highly strung and has a tendency to worry about things.” – by tentatively discussing the sexual abuse he’d suffered as a child. Since then he’d shut himself off from the world in a remote farmhouse shrouded in darkness.

He claimed he’d been burgled several times, but eventually stopped going to the police as he felt he wasn’t being taken seriously. He slept every night, fully clothed, with an illegally-owned shotgun under his bed.

As the drama progressed, my initial impression of Martin changed. His account of that night was vague and contradictory. He came across as arrogant and blasé. When the police eventually picked his slippery story apart, he seemed genuinely astonished that he’d been charged with murder.

To this day, he maintains that he did nothing wrong. How do we know this? The man himself appeared in a chilling coda, during which he returned to the farm for the first time in 19 years. Unrepentant, he said he’d do the same thing again without hesitation. Does he regret killing Barras? Not in the slightest. Tony Martin isn’t a well man. He needs help.

This discomfiting drama won’t have changed anyone’s mind about Martin’s crime, but it did deliver some insight into his damaged psyche.

A raw profile of a man nearing the end of his life, DAVID CASSIDY: THE LAST SESSION followed the reluctant teeny-bop idol as he struggled with dementia and other serious health issues.

With admirable candour, the frail Cassidy invited a documentary crew to record his struggles. He reflected on a life during which he battled with alcoholism for many years, while recording what would prove to be his final tracks - poignant pre-rock tributes to a troubled showbiz father with whom he had a strained relationship.

The programme also featured rare extracts from an in-depth audio interview he taped at the height of his fame in 1976. Even at that age, he came across as an intelligent and introspective man.

This was the tragic saga of a manufactured idol, a typecast fantasy construct, battling with the cruel vicissitudes of real life. It was terribly sad, but never voyeuristic or exploitative. A sensitive tribute.

TV Review: THE LITTLE DRUMMER GIRL + THE FIRST

This article was originally published in The Courier on 3rd November 2018.

https://www.thecourier.co.uk/category/lifestyle/entertainment/tv-film/

THE LITTLE DRUMMER GIRL: Sunday, BBC One

THE FIRST: Thursday, Channel 4

A six-part adaptation of the spy novel by John le Carre, THE LITTLE DRUMMER GIRL is a disappointingly flat affair.

In something of a coup for the BBC, it’s directed by the highly acclaimed South Korean filmmaker Park Chan-wook (The Handmaiden; The Vengeance Trilogy) and stars the great American character actor Michael Shannon (he of the tombstone visage and imposing screen presence). With that much talent involved, how could it possibly fail? Well, simply put, it’s boring.

Chan-wook has opted for a muted approach, which in theory at least suits the Cold War-era source material. However, instead of coming across as an intensely slow-burning thriller steeped in downbeat, chilly atmosphere a la the BBC’s classic adaptation of le Carre’s Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy, it ends up feeling lifeless.

In episode one, I never got the impression that Chan-wook was particularly interested in the subject matter. As you’d expect, it’s elegantly shot, but as a piece of drama it’s curiously remote and unengaging, a glacial exercise in spy thriller style. We are expected to sit through six hours of this.

I’m all for Europe-trotting Cold War confections in which characters have grave, clandestine conversations in dimly lit rooms, but only when a strong story supports those familiar genre tropes.

In The Little Drummer Girl, the meandering plot involves Charlie, an idealistic fringe theatre actress (promising TV newcomer Florence Pugh) who, after what felt like an eternity, was eventually recruited by Shannon’s Israeli spymaster, Kurtz. Shannon delivered a typically arresting, subtly detailed performance, but he overshadowed everything around him. His character is more interesting than the plot.

Kurtz is in pursuit of a Palestinian terrorist. Charlie doesn’t know how she can be of any help. That’s supposed to provide a magnetic layer of intrigue, but The Little Drummer Girl suffers from a fatal lack of tension.

Momentum only built in the final scene, when Charlie was abducted by an enigmatic German member of Kurtz’s team (Alexander Skarsgard). By that point, however, it was too little too late.

The first episode of a TV thriller has one basic job: to set the wheels in motion and draw you in. In this instance, the wheels whirred far too lethargically.

An Anglo-American co-production, eight-part science-fiction drama THE FIRST burns slowly to far more compelling effect.

Set in the near future and partly inspired by the Challenger space shuttle disaster, it began with a tragically aborted human mission to Mars. Sean Penn – looking for all the world like a kindly, careworn couch – stars as a former astronaut tasked with comforting the grieving relatives of a doomed team of cosmic pioneers. 

His quietly convincing performance is matched by the excellent English actress Natascha McElhone, who plays the conflicted CEO of the company responsible for sending these astronauts to their death. Penn’s character will, inevitably, lead another mission to Mars, but I’m looking forward to seeing how that pans out.

Framed through a prism of hand-held pseudo-documentary realism, The First is a humane, understated drama. It’s essentially the polar opposite of The Little Drummer Girl in that, quietly, gently, it establishes a mood of queasy intrigue. It hooks you in. The Little Drummer Girl is nothing more than a series of loosely-knitted, drab occurrences.

Suffused with potent melancholy, The First presents a pair of potentially interesting protagonists and a strong ‘what if?’ scenario. It arrived on TV with very little fanfare last week, but it deserves your attention.

TV Review: DOCTOR WHO

This article was originally published in The Courier on 13th October 2018.

https://www.thecourier.co.uk/category/lifestyle/entertainment/tv-film/

DOCTOR WHO: Sunday, BBC One

“Half an hour ago I was a white-haired Scotsman.”

And there it was. Just one brief, throwaway line to acknowledge that the 13^th Doctor is a woman. After months of hoopla - and tedious whining from some quarters - surrounding the introduction of Jodie Whittaker as the first female incarnation of the Time Lord, the latest series of DOCTOR WHO just got on with things. A smart move.

Drawing overt attention to the Doctor’s gender change would’ve reduced it to a self-conscious novelty as opposed to an entirely natural development. It would’ve undermined the integrity of Whittaker’s performance. She is the Doctor and that’s that.

So what’s 13 like? At heart(s), of course, she’s essentially like all the others: brave, eccentric, inquisitive. What Whittaker brings to the role are flashes of contagious childlike wonder, breathless energy, quiet compassion and smart comic timing. Her expressive face runs the gamut from goofiness to gravitas. She’s charming, funny and thoroughly commanding: everything you could want from a Doctor.

I personally never had any doubts about that, as Whittaker is a fine actor. She was always going to nail the part. My main concern with this new series is the arrival of Chris Chibnall as showrunner.

The brains behind Broadchurch and the wildly uneven Who spin-off Torchwood has five previous Doctor Who episodes to his name, the best of which were little more than adequate. His writing lacks the flair and ingenuity of his predecessors Steven Moffat and Russell T. Davies. 

However, after watching this rather elegantly plotted episode - demonstrably his best effort so far - I began to think that maybe Chibnall’s relatively straightforward approach might be just what Doctor Who needs right now. As much as I admire Moffat for the most part, his cerebral style of continuity-heavy storytelling alienated some viewers. My usual response to that would be ‘their loss’, but I’d like to see Doctor Who become a national talking point again.

More than anything, of course, I want it to be good, but I get the impression that Chibnall and his team know what they’re doing. Doctor Who has always thrived on change while feeding off successful elements from its past, and I welcome the decision to reboot the show as an accessible piece of blockbuster family entertainment unburdened by prolonged story arcs.

The plot of this first episode – a satisfyingly dark affair involving a Predator-style alien hunting on Earth – was merely a framework to support Whittaker's debut while establishing a brand new era. Chibnall has stated that he wanted the episode to function as a jumping-on point for new viewers while assuring die-hards that it's the same old show they know and love. In that regard, it was an unqualified success.

Whittaker is an engaging Doctor, her new companions - sorry, 'friends' - seem promising, and the production team appear to have a distinct vision for the show. Doctor Who always looked great during Moffat's tenure, but Chibnall's first episode established a new aesthetic. Set mostly at night on the mean streets of Sheffield, it was steeped in Nordic Noir-esque atmosphere. The cinematography, direction, visual effects and sparingly used score were very impressive.

It wasn't perfect - Chibnall's dialogue is occasionally quite clunky and rote - but overall this new era of Doctor Who feels confident and energised, a show reborn. The future looks rather bright.

TV Review: THE CRY + THE BIG AUDITION

This article was originally published in The Courier on 6th October 2018.

https://www.thecourier.co.uk/category/lifestyle/entertainment/tv-film/

THE CRY: Sunday, BBC One

THE BIG AUDITION: Friday, STV

Cast under a pall of deep, foreboding gloom, THE CRY is an anguished four-part drama about a mother on public trial.

Former Doctor Who companion and Victoria star Jenna Coleman plays Joanna, a first-time parent struggling to cope with her new-born baby, Noah. Joanna loves Noah, but can’t seem to form the nurturing bond that, so she’s been told, should be automatic. No matter what she does, she can’t stop him crying.

Joanna’s Australian fiancée, Alistair, is a busy government spin doctor who more or less leaves her to look after Noah alone. He’s also fighting for custody of his teenage daughter from a previous marriage. That’s why Joanna, Alistair and Noah end up on a flight to Australia, during which most of the passengers take an unsympathetic view of Joanna’s inability to control her son’s wails.

When they arrive in Oz, they stop at a minimart en route to their hired cottage. Alistair goes in alone, but for some reason Joanna follows him while Noah sleeps on the back seat of their car. When they return, he’s nowhere to be found. In that moment, Joanna is transformed from an ordinary mum into an international hate figure.

Clearly inspired by the Madeleine McCann case, The Cry thrives on ambiguity. We’re invited to sympathise with Joanna while questioning her behaviour. It basically places us in the shoes of those disapproving plane passengers; a deliberately uncomfortable experience. The Cry demands that we question our knee-jerk judgments, our trivial, selfish irritations.

It’s told in non-linear fashion, with scenes set before and after Noah’s disappearance. A potentially gimmicky and alienating narrative device, but it works in the drama’s favour by building intrigue and tension while reflecting Joanna’s fractured mental state.

We knew from the start that Joanna had done something wrong, something capable of attracting a frenzied press scrum on her doorstep and landing her in court while an angry mob protests outside. We knew it must have something to do with Noah, but we were kept in the dark until the last five minutes. Unravelling the story in this way proved terribly effective. The Cry, so far at least, succeeds as a mystery, a thriller, and a nuanced character piece.

I’ve never been particularly impressed by Coleman before - she's often too serene, too poised - but here she’s quite convincing as a traumatised woman in the eye of a hurricane. Ironically, Joanna’s inability to cry in public may prove her undoing. Parents are expected to act in a certain way when terrible incidents such as this occur, and woe betide them if they don’t.

Episode one implied that Alistair’s ex-wife may have stolen Noah, but I suspect the truth will be more complex than that. The Cry appears to be a thought-provoking drama etched in shades of grey.

That cross between Britain’s Got Talent and Dragons’ Den you’ve all been waiting for, THE BIG AUDITION is a light-hearted reality show in which various showbiz hopefuls vie for actual paying work.

Formats such as this are a magnet for ‘big personalities’, but thankfully most of the folk auditioning in episode one were harmlessly eccentric as opposed to thunderously irksome.

The undoubted star was Linda, a woman whose cup practically exploded with guffawing joi de vivre. You wouldn’t want to be stuck in a lift with her, but she deserved her new job as a bubbly shopping channel host.

Scoff all you want, but maintaining an incessant barrage of enthusiasm on live television is a tough gig. It requires an improvisatory skill-set beyond the capabilities of most mere mortals. Linda is a natural.

TV Review: MICHAEL PALIN IN NORTH KOREA + MANSON: THE LOST TAPES

This article was originally published in The Courier on 29th September 2018.

https://www.thecourier.co.uk/category/lifestyle/entertainment/tv-film/

MICHAEL PALIN IN NORTH KOREA: Thursday, Five

MANSON: THE LOST TAPES: Thursday, STV

Any Western journalist attempting to fully document the ‘real’ North Korea is on a hiding to nothing. Nevertheless, MICHAEL PALIN IN NORTH KOREA delivered some fascinating  insight into this highly secretive Communist nation.

As far as Kim Jong-un’s regime is concerned, this series is a public relations exercise organised with the intent of improving modern NK’s international image. They’re fully aware of their reputation as a trigger-happy, crackpot liability and an oppressive cult-of-personality dictatorship in which brainwashed citizens endure a terrible quality of life. This is their attempt to show the wider world that – hey! – we’re actually alright. That’s understandable.

They presumably did their research when it came to vetting the ideal host. That nice Michael Palin is an unthreatening presence, he’s not going to make things difficult for them (I do like the idea of Kim Jong-un nodding his approval while watching Around the World in 80 Days).

However, Palin’s politesse, humour and humanity worked in the programme’s favour. His open-minded friendliness encouraged understandably guarded people to converse as naturally as possible. He’s no lightweight, he’s a stellar travel journalist. In episode one, he depicted ordinary NK citizens as what they are: human beings getting on with their lives as opposed to faceless symbols of autocratic rule.

Inevitably, his investigation is heavily stage-managed – shadowed by friendly minders, Palin and his crew are under constant surveillance – but he still succeeded in quietly peeling back the layers of NK’s stereotyped image.

In the concluding episode, he visited the demilitarised zone on the North/South Korean border, where he endured an awkward encounter with a lieutenant who parroted the official line about the Korean War (NK won, apparently). He did, however, agree with our winningly diplomatic host that world peace is a good idea.

Palin also visited a beach town that could potentially play a key role in revitalising NK‘s economy. Though his citizens are only allowed 15 days off work per year, Kim Jong-un wants to turn this luxury resort/airport into an international holiday destination. Opening itself up to Western influence seems almost inevitable. Palin noted that he was glad to have experienced this country before it looks just like everywhere else.

Despite Kim’s dreams, will anyone of sound conscience want to visit a nation notorious for poverty and human rights violations? Satire alert: Britain and America seem to be doing okay.

Palin’s visit to a rural farm highlighted its debilitating food shortages. Aid agencies have estimated that more than a million people starved to death during a devastating '90s drought. When Palin asked a farmer if things had improved, she replied in the affirmative through gritted teeth.

The most revealing moment arrived during a conversation between Palin and his female minder. When he asked why NK citizens never criticise their leaders, she nervously replied that they represent the nation: “Criticising our leaders is like criticising ourselves too.”

This remarkable series delivered as rounded a portrait of NK as possible under the circumstances. It offered thoughtful and conflicted insight by examining telling surface details while hinting between the lines at issues it couldn’t tackle head-on.

In episode one of MANSON: THE LOST TAPES, rare footage of the notorious cult leader’s gun-toting acolytes was made public for the first time. Filmed mere days after Manson and three of his followers were charged with the brutal slaying of actress Sharon Tate and friends, the matter-of-fact interviews proved utterly chilling.

How did Manson brainwash these young hippies towards wanton acts of carnage? We’ll never understand for sure – how could we? – but this grim excavation did at least illustrate the horrific results of fragile human psyches being sabotaged by insane, charismatic manipulators.

KILLING EVE + MONKMAN AND SEAGULL'S GENIUS GUIDE TO BRITAIN

This article was originally published in The Courier on 22nd September 2018.

https://www.thecourier.co.uk/category/lifestyle/entertainment/tv-film/

KILLING EVE: Saturday, BBC One

MONKMAN AND SEAGULL’S GENIUS GUIDE TO BRITAIN: Monday, BBC Two

One of the best new TV shows of 2018, KILLING EVE is an addictive eight-part comedy-drama that subverts typical spy thriller tropes with offbeat panache. It debuted on BBC America earlier this year, and was instantly met with a barrage of glowing reviews and an eventual brace of award nominations. I’m not surprised.

It’s based on a series of novellas by Luke Jennings and adapted by Phoebe Waller-Bridge, author and star of the justly acclaimed BBC sitcom Fleabag. Similar to Waller-Bridge’s previous work in that it switches effortlessly on a dime between dry, caustic comedy and visceral drama, Killing Eve is witty, knowing and stylish, but never feels pleased with itself.

Eve Polastri (a tremendously likeable performance from Asian-Canadian actor Sandra Oh) is a bored, deskbound MI5 security officer who becomes obsessed with tracking down a female assassin at large in Europe. Unfortunately, that’s not part of her job. She’s basically a pen-pusher.

However, in episode one, her perceptive handling of a technically illegal investigation managed to impress a female senior officer. Eve, a woman in her late forties, is on the verge of fulfilling her dream of becoming a bona fide secret agent.

She isn’t a kick-ass action hero, she’s a normal, relatable human being. She’s happily married and gets on with her boss (the great David Haig on droll form). A quietly subversive creation, Eve is a refreshing antidote to all those tiresomely troubled male crime-busters who usually populate our screens.

The expert assassin, Villanelle, is also unusual. Perfectly played by Jodie Comer as a sort of casually spoiled student on a murderous gap year, she’s a darkly amusing parody of psychopathic villainy. Whenever this beautiful young Russian isn’t gleefully murdering Mafia bosses by stabbing them through the eye with a customised hairpin, she’s tipping ice cream over sweet little girls and refusing to help old ladies with their heavy bags. She may be a homicidal maniac, but Villanelle is a fun character to be around.

The plot is triggered when she assassinates a Russian diplomat in Vienna. Eve is tasked with looking after the sole witness, a drug-addled Polish woman whose incoherent babble may hold the key to the killer’s identity. Eve asks her genial Polish husband to translate these ramblings (a convenient coincidence, but I’ll let it pass). An obscure Polish slang word for “flat-chested” confirms Eve’s suspicions that the killer is a woman. And the game is on.

Despite featuring several recognisable staples of the spy genre – e.g. various glamorous European locations – Killing Eve feels fresh. Oh and Comer make for an arresting pair of antagonists; you somehow find yourself wanting both of them to prevail. A controlled explosion of pulp hokum, it’s a genuinely funny and surprising affair.

From the sublime to, well, two popular University Challenge contestants driving around the UK. In MONKMAN AND SEAGULL’S GENIUS GUIDE TO BRITAIN, best friends Eric Monkman and Bobby Seagull hit the road in search of various examples of British ingenuity.

Richly narrated by Simon Callow, it’s a harmlessly generic travelogue in which our big-brained hosts engage in amusingly esoteric conversation while visiting destinations such as Jodrell Bank, a ginormous broadcasting mast, and a lawnmower museum (where they were delighted to discover a mower that once belonged to Brian May). Naturally, they provide interesting nuggets of learned information along the way.

They’re a likeable pair, but Monkman in particular is a TV natural. A nerdy Canadian with a Cheshire Cat grin and a head seemingly crammed with all knowledge, he’s possibly on his way to becoming an eccentric national treasure. 

BLACK EARTH RISING + TRUST

This article was originally published in The Courier on 15th September 2018.

https://www.thecourier.co.uk/category/lifestyle/entertainment/tv-film/

BLACK EARTH RISING: Monday, BBC Two

TRUST: Wednesday, BBC Two

There’s a lot going on in BLACK EARTH RISING, a globe-trotting political thriller from esteemed auteur Hugo Blick. Unfortunately, it doesn’t quite hang together.

Blick, who authored impressive dramas such as The Honourable Woman and modern classic The Shadow Line, basically has complete creative control over his projects. That hasn’t been a problem in the past, but episode one of this long-winded and rather starchy drama suggested that he’s finally succumbed to self-indulgence.

It’s frustrating, as Black Earth Rising is a potentially interesting, torn-from-the-headlines meditation on morality and forgiveness.

Eve Ashby (Harriet Walter) is one of the world’s leading prosecutors in international criminal law. During the Rwandan genocide, she rescued and adopted a young Tutsi girl (Michaela Coel). She named her Kate. Now grown up, Kate suffers from survivor’s guilt and works alongside her mother as a legal investigator.

Their close, loving relationship is, to say the least, put under strain when Eve agrees to prosecute a Tutsi general accused of war crimes. His retaliating army brought an end to the bloodshed in Rwanda, but he’s since carved a career as a mercenary in the Democratic Republic of the Congo.

Kate argues that this man, who was once considered a hero, shouldn’t be punished for crimes that pale in comparison to those perpetrated by the genocidal warlords who still roam at large. Eve, however, feels that she’s doing the right thing.

Does this honourable woman deserve to be accused of “self-righteous western paternalism”? Is she seeking solutions to problems that would never have occurred if the first world hadn’t intruded upon Africa in the first place? And why do the African characters converse in English after a cursory exchange of subtitled lines? So many questions.

It’s a solid premise and an intriguing set of themes, but Blick failed to set the scene with much finesse. Episode one was awash with info-dumping exposition. So far, Black Earth Rising feels well-intentioned yet heavy-handed.

I hope it improves. Blick deserves the benefit of the doubt. However, at this early stage its only truly arresting aspect is the luminous Michaela Coel’s powerful, witty, intelligent and vulnerable performance.

Created by Simon Beaufoy, author of The Full Monty and Slumdog Millionaire, and directed by Danny Boyle, TRUST is an enjoyably slick and acerbic factual drama about the outrageously affluent Getty dynasty.

Set in 1973, it focuses on the notorious kidnapping of heir-to-the-fortune John Paul Getty III. His weird, priapic grandfather is played, formidably, by the great Donald Sutherland. ‘Owner’ of a harem of lovers, the elderly oil baron’s eccentricities infected his dysfunctional brood. If Beaufoy’s account is to be – yes – trusted, then they were a deeply unhappy bunch of idle billionaires.

Sutherland’s Getty is a bored, icy capitalist ogre whose sole source of pleasure is loveless sex and acquiring more money. He barely communicates with his extended family, they disappoint him, but he sparks into life when the bright, young, long-haired JP III returns to the fold. Unfortunately for him, the kid is a drug addict in hock to the Mafia.

This engrossing 10-part series is a frankly despairing exploration of the corrosive effects of wealth and power. It’s hell-bent on leaving a sour taste in the mouth.

Lurid tabloid television? Well, I suppose, but when it’s executed with such wit and panache, you can excuse the prurience. I find myself helplessly swept up in the sheer madness of it all.