Buried – Simply Media DVD Review

April 11, 2018 archivetvmusings Simply Media buried, channel 4, lennie james, simply media

Lee Kingley (Lennie James) finds himself sentenced to a lengthy stretch at HMP Mandrake. Despite his lack of prison experience he seems well equipped to survive its dog eat dog world, but he’ll need to watch his back ….

Broadcast on Channel 4 in early 2003, Buried garnered considerable critical acclaim during its short run (only eight episodes were made) but this didn’t translate into decent viewing figures (it averaged around one million per episode). This seemed to be the reason why a second series wasn’t commissioned, despite the fact that it won the BAFTA for Best Drama Series in 2004.

From the same stable as The Cops (BBC2, 1998 – 2001), Buried had a similar bleak, unsentimental tone allied to a realist style. It was produced by World Productions, a company who had made this style of drama their trademark during the 1990’s and 2000’s (Between the Lines and Cardiac Arrest, for example).

Following his television debut in 1988, Lennie James began to notch up an impressive list of credits during the next decade. He was part of the short-lived but memorable BBC1 police series Out of the Blue (1995/96) whilst prior to Buried he’d begun to make regular cinema appearances (Snatch, Twenty Four Hour Party People). America would then beckon (though we shouldn’t blame him for appearing in the forgettable remake of The Prisoner). More recently, he’s been a semi-regular on The Waking Dead.

Although Lee’s sentence is for GBH and firearms offences, the opening of the first episode floats the notion that he’s been the victim of a miscarriage of justice (he’s waiting to hear about his appeal). Lee’s older brother, Troy (Dave Fishley), is the real criminal of the family and he suggests that Lee’s been targeted in order to get at him. The truth is rather more prosiac though.

There are some questions you don’t ask in prison – the reason why someone’s inside being the main one (Lee, by making this faux paus, betrays his inexperience). As a new face he finds himself being sized up by the old hands – some are clearly dangerous whilst others seem friendlier. This mix of characters (on both sides of the fence) is one of Buried’s main strengths.

Teased out during the series is the uneasy relationship which exists between the immates and the prison officers. Detente is generally maintained (in some ways it’s not dissimilar to Porridge – do your time, keep your nose clean and you’ll be alright) with an ironic tolerance often shown from both sides. Some people, like psychiatrist Dr Nick Vaughan (Stephen Walters), are keen to try and dig a little deeper, but Lee – for one – keeps his distance.

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Although he settles into prison life quite easily to begin with, towards the end of the first episode we begin to see that Mandrake is a place where violence and physical abuse between inmates is shrugged off as a regular occurrence. The sadistic Ronaldo (Francis McGee) is knifed during an argument in the showers and Lee not only shields the perpetrator (a rather pathetic, drug-addled type) but also claims responsibility for the assault. There is method in this seeming madness though – the more vicious you are, the greater respect you earn. And with Lee having already upset some of his fellow inmates, it does no harm to have his legend bulked up a little ….

Possibly the most intriguing instalment sees Troy moved into the same cell as his younger brother. It does seem odd that Troy would be transferred to Lee’s prison, but whatever the reason for the move, the simmering tension which exists between the pair is deftly drawn out.

Putting the brothers together makes sense from an official viewpoint – it’s hoped that Lee will prove to be a stabilising influence on the uncontrollable Troy – but Lee begins to suspect that there’s another reason. He’s convinced that their cell has been bugged (another character later comments on the corrosive nature of prison – how it’s a breeding ground for all kinds of paranoia).

Troy’s new found fascination with religion (he takes on the mantle of Jesus Christ) is another manifestation of this. He’s clearly a man on the verge of a nervous breakdown, but his ultimate fate causes Lee to despise the system even more. Whilst Troy’s abdication means that a new King – Lee – is crowned in his absence ….

Lee may now be a well-respected man but his increasing loss of personal control is a feature of episode four. This happens after one of his trusted sidemen – Kappa (James Wells) – is accused of being a paedophile. The truth of the matter is never settled, since the “evidence” (Kappa is alleged to have a picture of Lee’s young daughter stashed away) is suspect to say the least. But Lee – who’s already had to face the news that his wife has left him – isn’t thinking clearly and attacks Kappa in a bloody frenzy.

The latter part of the series continues to explore various familiar themes. Drugs remain an ever-present problem, with Nick placed under pressure due to the fact that the inmates in his secure unit – who are supposed to be clean – keep failing their drug tests. Can he find out who the supplier is? For a man who likes to believe he has the trust of the prisoners this means treading a very fine line.

Nick also has a prominent role to play in the sixth episode. Female officer DD Burridge (Jane Hazelgrove) is assaulted by a prisoner. She’s later forced to speak to Nick about her experience, but it’s hardly surprising that she’s somewhat hostile towards him (“I’m the victim, but I’m the one who’s being punished” she tells him). Hazelgrove, having skirted around the perimeters of several previous episodes, moves more into the forefront here and is very good value.

Although Buried could have gone to a second series, there’s something pleasingly circular about the final scene of the concluding episode (Lee – now an old hand – gently tells a new arrival that you should never ask anybody what they’re inside for). His journey – from an innocent new arrival to a hardened old lag – is now complete.

Buried is something of a hidden gem. The harsh tone and generally unlikeable characters might have been the reason why it didn’t capture a larger audience but fifteen years on it’s aged very well. A series which doesn’t pull its punches, Buried is an absorbing watch and comes warmly recommended.

Buried is released by Simply Media on the 16th Of April 2018, RRP £29.99. It can be ordered directly from Simply here.

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Doctor Who – The Aztecs. Episode Three – The Bride of Sacrifice

April 10, 2018April 7, 2018 archivetvmusings Doctor Who carole ann ford, doctor who, jacqueline hill, john lucarotti, the aztecs, william hartnell, william russell

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Whilst it would be unfair to regard The Aztecs as worthy but dull, it’s undeniable that it’s always been a story that I’ve found it easier to admire than love. It’s certainly a less engaging experience than Marco Polo – possibly because Polo had three extra episodes to play with (allowing for more character development) but maybe it also has something to do with the fact that it’s harder to get involved with the sympathetic characters we meet in The Aztecs.

Polo and Ping-Cho both had interesting motivations which explained their actions (Polo wished to go home, Ping-Cho became increasingly anxious about being trapped in an arranged marriage). But neither Autloc’s crisis of faith or Cameca’s love for the Doctor has quite the same impact.

Both Autloc and Cameca find themselves manipulated (by Barbara and the Doctor). In Barbara’s case, it happens because of her desire to fundamentally change the course of Aztec society. Even when Autloc spells out to her that he will be ruined if she proves to be a false goddess, she appears to be unmoved.

BARBARA: Am I not a god? Support me. Tlotoxl won’t dare defy us both.
AUTLOC: If I take that course, there is no way back for me. In all humility, I beg you, do not deceive me or prove false to me.

Although the Doctor strikes up a friendship with Cameca in order to find out more about the tomb, it’s his misunderstanding of Aztec customs (especially what is signified when a man offers to make cocoa for a woman) which proves to be his downfall. It’s a lovely comic scene which Hartnell plays to perfection – his expression when he realises he’s become engaged is priceless, as is Ian’s reaction when the Doctor calmly tells him his happy news!

DOCTOR: Happy days, my dear.
CAMECA: The happiest of my life, dear heart. Was ever such a potion brewed? In bliss is quenched my thirsty heart.
DOCTOR: Very prettily put, my dear.
CAMECA: Oh, sweet-favoured man, you have declared your love for me, and I acknowledge and accept your gentle proposal.

It’s a light moment in an otherwise dark and dramatic episode.

The Doctor has attempted to persuade Barbara that interfering with Aztec society is doomed to failure (although he doesn’t specify why). She doesn’t accept this and it takes Ian to finally make her see the impossibility of her actions.

BARBARA: Tlotoxl’s evil and he’ll make everyone else the same.
IAN: They are the same, Barbara. That’s the whole point. You keep on insisting that Tlotoxl’s the odd man out, but he isn’t.
BARBARA: I don’t believe it.
IAN: Well, you must. If only you could stand away from this thing, you’d see it clearly. Autloc’s the extraordinary man here. He’s the reasonable one, the civilised one, the one that’s prepared to listen to advice. But he’s one man, Barbara. One man.

This is maybe a little unfair on Ian’s part. We don’t meet that many members of Aztec society throughout the story, but it’s probable that Cameca wouldn’t be opposed to the abolition of human sacrifice. Or maybe she would. One way that Ian’s point could have been proved beyond beyond all doubt would have been for the humane and gentle Cameca to mention her support for sacrifice – thereby showing us that the Aztecs’ beliefs were simply too far ingrained in every member of their society for Barbara to ever hope they could be changed.

The Price – Simply Media DVD Review

April 9, 2018April 9, 2018 archivetvmusings Simply Media adrian dunbar, derek thompson, harriet walter, hugh fraser, peter barkworth, simon jones, susanna reid, the price

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Geoffrey Carr (Peter Barkworth) might be a successful businessman (he’s a key player in the burgeoning computer industry) but his private life is far less straightforward. Recently married to Frances (Harriet Walter), their relationship is best described as testy. Possibly due to the fact that she’s much younger than he is, they struggle to find any common ground whilst Claire (Frances’ headstrong teenage daughter from a previous marriage) is a further complication.

Geoffrey dutifully continues trying to please Frances though – even going to the expense of buying a crumbling Georgian house in the place where she grew up – County Wicklow, Ireland.

But the mid eighties is a period when the Troubles were at their height and as a wealthy Briton he proves to be an irresistible target. Frank Crossan (Derek Thompson), an IRA killer on the run, teams up with an idealistic teacher called Kate (Aingeal Grehan). Their plan is simple – kidnap Frances and Clare and demand a hefty ransom from Geoffrey. The resolution is far more complex though ….

Broadcast in six episodes during early 1985. The Price boasts strong performances from all the major players. It should go without saying that Peter Barkworth (1926 – 2006) is exemplary as Geoffrey, a man caught between the twin pincers of police interference and the machinations of high finance. Barkworth rarely, if ever, gave a bad performance and Geoffrey is a typically layered creation.

It would be easy enough for Geoffrey – a self-centered but essentially decent man – to be portrayed in a fairly one-note manner, but Barkworth’s nuanced performance essays something much more subtle and ultimately much more satisfying.

Harriet Walter (b. 1950) continues to enjoy a very successful career (The Crown and Star Wars: The Force Awakens are amongst her recent credits). Frances is introduced as something of a contradictory person – she admits that she married Geoffrey for his money, but gets upset whenever he attempts to do any work. But once she’s kidnapped her character goes through a radical transformation.

An interesting piece of casting, in retrospect, saw the fourteen year old Susanna Reid playing Clare. This was her only television acting role (during the last fifteen years or so she’s become a very recognisable British television face – first as a newsreader and then as a breakfast television host).

Derek Thompson may have seemingly been playing the level-headed Charlie Fairhead in Casualty since the dawn of recorded time, but prior to checking into Holby City back in 1986 he essayed a variety of roles on both sides of the law. He was a regular on The Gentle Touch between 1980 and 1982 (as DS Jimmy Fenton) but during the late seventies and the early to mid eighties he could often be found playing baddies (The Long Good Friday, The Wild Geese 2 and – of course – The Price). Since Thompson was born in Belfast, the role of Frank Crossan gave him a rare opportunity to drop back into the Irish idiom.

Familiar faces such as Simon Jones, Hugh Fraser and Adrian Dunbar are welcome additions to the cast.

The opening scenes of the first episode intercuts between Frances (trying on expensive jewellery in a swanky shop) and Frank (holed up in a house on a graffiti-ridden estate, picking off British soldiers with a high powered rifle). That they live in two totally different worlds is immediately obvious but the intercutting hammers the point home.

Early on we get a sense of the tensions that exist between Geoffrey and Frances. “I can’t stand you” she screams. Barkworth’s ability to express a world of hurt with a single expression is put to good use here.

The closing scene of the first episode explodes in a burst of violence as Frances and Clare are snatched from their car by a posse of masked raiders. Kate may have been initially presented as someone keen to pursue the struggle for Irish independence peacefully, but here she’s keen for Frank to shoot a fleeing child who witnessed the kidnapping. As Frank, a hardened IRA man, couldn’t bring himself to fire, it’s a character moment that should be filed away for later.

DZPMrBsWkAAhZyo — Derek Thompson & Aingeal Grehan

Old computer hands will probably appreciate the opening few moments of episode two. Not only are there some chunky PCs on display but there’s also the slow, but steady, report of a dot matrix printer. It’s printing out news of Frances and Clare’s kidnap (this is a neat way of recapping the events of episode one without having to spell it out verbally).

As the pressure begins to mount, Barkworth excels as Geoffrey – a fundamentally decent man – is pushed and pulled in numerous directions. The police advise him not to pay the ransom – at least not at first – but how can he refuse when lives are at stake? Lansbury (Simon Jones) and Simon (David Lyon) are both on hand to help and advise (Lansbury works for Geoffrey’s company, Simon is an insurance man and a kidnap specialist).

But even if he wants to pay the ransom, how can he afford it? He’s simply not as wealthy as the kidnappers believe him to be and if he attempts to unfreeze his assets or sell any shares then he faces the possibility of losing control of his company. Does he love his wife and step-daughter that much? As the title states, is he prepared to pay the price?

The grim surroundings that Frances and Claire find themselves in (plus Claire’s asthma attacks) makes their incarceration even more of a nightmare. They at least have each other for company, but things are far from easy. Walter and Reid shine during these scenes, especially since the relationship between mother and daughter is very fluid – one minute loving, the next combative.

price 01 — Harriet Walter and Susannah Reid

As the serial wears on and Frances becomes grimier and more desperate, so the tension begins to ramp up even more. Her transformation – from spoilt society queen to a hardened fighter – is a highlight of the latter part of the story, thanks to Harriet Walter’s performance (in the last few episodes things get especially dark for Frances).

The twisted relationship which can often exist between captor and captive is well drawn out too. Frank despises Frances and all she stands for … and yet. On her side, she’s content to play along with his mood swings – she’ll do anything if it means she can guarantee freedom for herself and Clare. Meanwhile, Geoffrey and his team are making their way to the rendezvous point with the money whilst the police attempt to follow ….

Needless to say, things don’t go to plan and the concluding episode develops into a tense stand-off between the kidnappers and the police. The violence, when it comes, is short and ugly. This occurs about fifteen minutes from the end, which then leaves ample time for those left alive to reflect on events.

An all-film production, picture-wise The Price is in a pretty good condition. The unrestored prints obviously show dirt and damage but it’s comparable to other releases of a similar vintage.

Despite being six episodes long, The Price never feels drawn out. Peter Barkworth, Harriet Walter and Derek Thompson all excel whilst the supporting cast provides solid support. A taut character-based drama, The Price grips throughout and comes highly recommended.

The Price is released on the 15th of April 2018, RRP £24.99 by Simply Media. It can be ordered directly from Simply here.

price 02 — Derek Thompson & Aingeal Grehan

Doctor Who – The Aztecs. Episode Two – The Warriors of Death

April 8, 2018April 7, 2018 archivetvmusings Doctor Who BBC, carole ann ford, doctor who, jacqueline hill, john lucarotti, the aztecs, william hartnell, william russell

The Doctor is furious with Barbara for halting the sacrifice. We’ve seen an angry Doctor before, but not like this and it’s clear that Hartnell relishes the opportunity to really go for it. Hill is excellent as well and it’s one of those scenes that crackles with energy, although it’s notable that the Doctor doesn’t remain angry for very long (another sign of the general softening of his character).

TLOTOXL: I would ask you, how shall a man know his gods?
BARBARA: By the signs of their divinity.
TLOTOXL: And what if thieves walk among the gods?
BARBARA: Then indeed, how shall a man know?

This short exchange, beautifully delivered by Ringham and Hill, tells us everything we need to know. Tlotoxl is convinced that Barbara isn’t the spirit of Yetaxa, but lacks any proof. This means he’ll spend the remainder of the story using whatever means are at his disposal (in this episode it’s Ian) to chip away at the composure of the false goddess.

Having won a victory over Ixta with his magic thumb, Ian then faces a rematch – but Ixta will have a secret weapon (the unwitting help of the Doctor). It’s a slight contrivance that Ixta is the son of the man who built the temple, which means the Doctor (in exchange for non-existent temple plans) hands over a plant that will disable his opponent (who turns out to be Ian). Two coincidences, that’s rather a lot!

I like the way the Doctor describes himself to Cameca. “I am a scientist, an engineer. I’m a builder of things.” There may be the hint of pretence here, as he’s attempting to explain his interest in the temple, but there’s an essential truth to this statement. Much, much later he’ll become the defender of the universe (whose name alone makes monsters tremble in fear) and part of the charm of the series will be lost forever.

Carole Ann Ford’s off on holiday, so only appears in a single pre-filmed scene. It’s another nod back to Lucarotti’s previous story, as Susan reacts in horror to the thought of an arranged marriage (much as she did when she learnt of Ping-Cho’s intended fate).

The Doctor, realising that Tlotoxl means them great harm, asks Barbara to play up to Autloc. The more she can convince Autloc that she is Yetaxa, the more it will help them. Barbara’s happy to do this, no doubt because she still clings to the hope that she can bring about a fundamental change in their society, but it already poses the uncomfortable question about what Autloc’s fate will be once he realises his faith in Barbara was misplaced.

AUTLOC: If your words are denied, shall we not be living in defiance of the gods?
BARBARA: Famine, drought and disaster will come, and more and more sacrifices will be made. I see a time when ten thousand will die in one day.
AUTLOC: Where will it end, Yetaxa?
BARBARA: In total destruction. Your civilisation will pass forever from the land.
AUTLOC: You prophesy our doom.

Even this early on, we’ve been primed that there won’t be a happy ending. In this era of the programme, the Doctor’s main focus is survival – fighting injustice is something he does rather as an afterthought. But whilst later stories might see him toppling entire civilisations with a few words, you do get the sense that this isn’t going to happen here.

The fight between Ian and Ixta goes on a little too long (and like Ixta’s fight in the previous episode suffers from being shot on VT) but it does leave us with an excellent cliffhanger. As Ian faces death, Tlotoxl taunts Barbara to use divine intervention to save him ….

Doctor Who – The Aztecs. Episode One – The Temple of Evil

April 7, 2018April 7, 2018 archivetvmusings Doctor Who carole ann ford, doctor who, jacqueline hill, john lucarotti, the aztecs, william hartnell, william russell

It’s apt that the episode opens with a scene between Barbara and Susan (we don’t see the Doctor and Ian until we’re a few minutes in). Barbara is very much the focus of the story, as might be guessed when we learn that she knows something about the Aztec civilisation.

As a history teacher, with a special interest in the Aztecs, she regards her surroundings with the eye of an expert. But if the story is designed to teach us anything, it seems to suggest that her book knowledge leaves her woefully unprepared to deal with the realities that she finds.

Susan operates as Barbara’s line-feeder here, helpfully informing the viewers that they’re in Mexico (sometime before 1430) as well as giving us the nugget of information that the Aztecs favoured human sacrifice. But Barbara is quick to point out that they had their cultured and civilised side as well and it’s this duality which will form the dramatic centre of the story.

It’s possible to see parallels between this and Lucarotti’s previous story, Marco Polo. Both feature two central guest characters – one who tends to side with the Doctor and his friends (Marco/Autloc) with the other standing in opposition to them (Tegana/Tlotoxl). What’s different about The Aztecs is how the four time-travellers are on shaky ground from their first appearance – Barbara is masquerading as the reincarnation of the goddess Yetaxa and so risks being unmasked at any moment. This gives the story a different feeling from Marco Polo, where Marco’s patronage ensured the Doctor and his friends had a sense of stability and security.

Autloc (Keith Pyott) and Tlotoxl (John Ringham) are two sides of the same coin. As High Priests of Knowledge and Sacrifice they both wield enormous power – although there’s the sense, from their first scene onwards, that they aren’t in harmony. Even before Barbara attempts to stop the practice of human sacrifice, Autloc is uneasy – maintaining that the rains will come with or without sacrifice.

Autloc is restrained and dignified whilst Tlotoxl gives the impression of a cut-price Richard III. Ringham made no secret of the fact that he modeled his performance on Olivier’s 1955 film of Richard III – the shuffling gait, the hunched back and the looks direct to camera are all dead giveaways. But whilst it’s not subtle, it’s certainly effective – meaning that Tlotoxl is a character whom your eye is always drawn towards (even when he’s not speaking).

Is Tlotoxl evil? His prime concern is to protect his people (since he’s correct that Barbara is a false goddess it’s not an easy question to answer). However reprehensible Barbara might find the notion of human sacrifice, her wish to mould the Aztecs in a twentieth century image is doomed to failure (and is it really any different from the Monk’s desire to accelerate human learning in The Time Meddler?).

At this point in the series’ history, messing about with time was strictly off limits. David Whitaker made his philosophy for the series quite clear. “The basis of time traveling is that all things are fixed and unalterable. Doctor Who is an observer.” This is odd – and does seem to refer more to the historical stories (after all, the Doctor is the prime-mover in organising the attack on the Daleks in the second story. Had he not been there it’s doubtful whether the Thals would have done anything by themselves).

The next script-editor, Dennis Spooner, would gleefully overturn this rule (such as in The Romans, where we learn that the Doctor inadvertently gave Nero the idea for burning Rome). The debate about changing history is a key part of The Aztecs, but when the Doctor says that you can’t rewrite history, does he mean that you shouldn’t or – like Whitaker – that it’s impossible? It’s hard to believe that he really meant the latter ….

DOCTOR: There’s to be a human sacrifice today at the Rain Ceremony.
BARBARA: Oh, no.
DOCTOR: And you must not interfere, do you understand?
BARBARA: I can’t just sit by and watch.
DOCTOR: No, Barbara! Ian agrees with me. He’s got to escort the victim to the altar.
BARBARA: He has to what?
DOCTOR: Yes, they’ve made him a warrior, and he’s promised me not to interfere with the sacrifice.
BARBARA: Well, they’ve made me a goddess, and I forbid it.
DOCTOR: Barbara, no!
BARBARA: There will be no sacrifice this afternoon, Doctor. Or ever again. The reincarnation of Yetaxa will prove to the people that you don’t need to sacrifice a human being in order to make it rain.
DOCTOR: Barbara, no.
BARBARA: It’s no good, Doctor, my mind’s made up. This is the beginning of the end of the Sun God.
DOCTOR: What are you talking about?
BARBARA: Don’t you see? If I could start the destruction of everything that’s evil here, then everything that is good would survive when Cortez lands.
DOCTOR: But you can’t rewrite history! Not one line!

John Crockett’s direction is rather good, helping to disguise the limitations of the small sets. The camera work is fluid and the movement of Tlotoxl helps to draw the eye (such as in the closing moments of the scene where Ian meets Ixta for the first time – Tlotoxl is a striking presence in the centre of the frame). The painted backdrops may look a little wrinkled, but they help to give several sets a sense of depth. This works especially well in the garden scenes (the Aztec pyramids in the background look rather impressive.)

If Barbara spends most of her time with Autloc and Tlotoxl, the the Doctor and Ian are also paired off with supporting characters. The Doctor makes the acquaintance of the charming Cameca (Margot Van der Burgh) whilst Ian meets the less charming Ixta (Ian Cullen). Ixta is a warrior and keen to ensure that Ian proves not to be a threat to his supremacy. There’s an early chance for Ixta to demonstrate his prowess – although this falls a little flat, due to the difficulties in staging fights in the studio. It ends up as less than convincing and it’s a pity it couldn’t have been shot on film.

The episode ends with Tlotoxl declaring that he will destroy the false goddess (and looking straight down the camera lens as he does). After just one episode all of the pieces of the story are firmly in place.

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A Very Peculiar Practice – Contact Tracer

April 5, 2018April 2, 2018 archivetvmusings BBC Comedy - 1980's, BBC Drama - 1980's a very peculiar practice, barbara flynn, david troughton, graham crowden, john bird, peter davison

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At the start of this episode Lyn and Stephen enjoy a relaxing post-coital moment. Lyn tells him that she’s his best client and that their experiences (with the names changed of course) will make valuable research material. Is she attempting to unsettle him with her talk of other partners – all part of her researches maybe? Stephen, although he’s immensely grateful to Lyn, can’t help but feel like an experiment subject. At one point he likens himself to a “smoking beagle”.

John Bird returns as Vice Chancellor Ernest Hemmingway with Frances White appearing as his ever-loyal secretary Dorothy Hampton. The members of the practice are called to an early morning meeting with the VC, where the drinks on offer – apple juice – doesn’t meet with the approval of Bob (“I’m not a bloody hippy”).

Hemmingway is a jargon-spouting bureaucrat, keen for the practice to pay its way. Stephen’s weak protestation (made even less impressive by the way he’s clutching his carton of apple juice) that they have an impressive treatment rate piques the VC’s interest for a fleeting second, but since it’s not actually something that’s generating income he’s unsure of how they can spin it into a success story.

Stephen’s encounter with Jeannie MacAllister (Geraldine Alexander) has unforseen consequences. She’s charming and Stephen is his usual affable and friendly self, but she’s also a journalist and despite Stephen’s protests that he can’t discuss confidential medical matters with her, he attempts to put a positive spin on their treatment successes. Alas, this means that he turns into Doctor Blue Eyes whilst their success at treating VD becomes a major talking point of the article.

But then there’s a rash – as it were – of cases of sexually transmitted diseases. Stephen and Rose Marie, of course, are delicate, patient and understanding with their patients whilst Bob is forthright, brisk and uncaring. “Below the waist I take it? Front or back? So we’ve got a bit of tool trouble, well, well, well”. Jock is his usual avuncular self, telling one student that it’s “one of the minor penalties extracted from us by the goddess aphorpdite”.

With thirteen cases in two days (“trouble with the trouser snake” as Bob puts it) Jock and the others have a race against time to stop the epidemic growing. Graham Crowden once again ramps the intensity up and effortlessly steals the scene as Jock rages to Bob that they have to tackle this undercover and with a Falklands spirit. Later bulletins to the troops (“we’re holding the enemy, but only just”) are delivered in the same entertaining military manner.

With only a limited number of extras on hand, a little bit of creative work ensures that the illusion of a stream of patients is created. First, we see a number of mute patients before rapidly cutting to close-ups of the doctors as they continue to work their way through a backlog of appointmemts. By this point we simply have to accept that the unseen people they’re talking to are actually there.

Bob’s rundown of which departments were the worst offenders is a classic VPP moment. “Arts Faculty produced the largest number of cases. Idle sods. Too much time on their hands. Whole department’s going down like dominos. Similar pattern with the secretaries and porters, and Communication Studies lived up to their name. Waitresses and bar staff were a problem till we sewed up the catering managers’ trousers with cobbler’s thread. Sociologists only appear to do it with each other and we’ve got control there. Engineers, you’ll be interested to hear, have a very low rate of sexual activity. Singing about it in the bar seems to be their only outlet. And Physical Sciences hardly troubled the scorer”.

The nuns – who have been ever-present background figures – call in to see Jock. Stephen’s shocked expression – surely, they can’t have … ? – offers Peter Davison a lovely reaction moment. The late twist that even the VC is affected is another gift for Davison as Stephen is forced to reluctantly approach Hemmingway in his den. Naturally, the VC immediatly jumps to the conclusion that Stephen’s attempting to blackmail him.

The VC is appreciative but as a skilled politician he finds it impossible to believe that Stephen won’t attempt to use this embarrassing information at a later date. So Stephen’s told gently but firmly that his days at Lowlands are strictly numbered ….

A Very Peculiar Practice – Black Bob’s Hamburger Suit

April 4, 2018April 1, 2018 archivetvmusings BBC Comedy - 1980's, BBC Drama - 1980's a very peculiar practice, barbara flynn, david troughton, graham crowden, peter davison

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An old school friend of Bob’s, Jimmy Partington (David Gwillim), is able to put a potentially lucrative consultancy deal his way. Jimmy, now working for Hamburger – a major international pharmaceutical company – wants him to trial Confidan, a wonder drug that can cure just about any ill.

And with Jock under pressure from the Vice Chancellor, this could be just the sort of thing to prove their worth. Bob ropes Stephen in and the pair start to prescribe the drug (Stephen as and when required, Bob to anybody who walks through the door). Everything seems to be going swimmingly, until ….

Black Bob’s Hamburger Suit is, as the title suggests, a Bob-centric episode. This is a very good thing. Given a little more time and space, David Troughton is able to flesh out the character of Bob Buzzard very nicely. We start by dropping in on his home life (a swooping camera pan across a number of expensive-looking, but identical houses). After a few hurried and angry words with his wife, Daphne (Kay Stoneham), he’s straight into his car. His first job is drop his boys, Ollie and Simon, off at school.

Diminutive and bespectacled, they decide that daddy is in one of his rages. The way that Bob drives – aggressively and fast – suggests this is so, however much he denies it. His children don’t seem to have a very happy school life – duffed up by the boarders who refer to them as double-glazing salesmen. No doubt this is due to their impressive briefcases – gifts from a prestigious multi-national drugs company.

Bob is clearly happy to receive trinkets like this (as well as an expensive new suit of which he’s very proud) but until he meets Jimmy he doesn’t seem to be aware that further rewards could be his. Not only money, but a trip to Bermuda possibly. Only for him of course, no room for Marjorie. Delightfully this doesn’t seem to concern him that much. His off-hand comment when Jimmy asks how Marjorie is (“oh she’s all right I suppose”) is nicely done.

Bob, for all his aggressive outer shell, is little more than a child. Unlike the more machevilian Rose Marie, he doesn’t view Stephen as a threat (on the contrary, he invites him to join the Confidan project). And with everybody urged to develop papers or topics, Stephen – with nothing on hand – agrees with alacrity. Jock is working on a new book – The Sick University – whilst the ever industrious Rose Marie has dozens of projects to choose from.

Jock’s frequent asides into his tape recorder (as he compiles material for The Sick University) is an episode highlight. It causes some of his patients to run away although others are built of sterner stuff. “A typical consulation in the sick university. All is the same, all is new. One face, one body, taken at random from the long procession of pain. This is a young man. The unlined, greasy, pustules skin denotes innocence and ignorance. But then the eyes meet the eyes of the doctor and everything is changed, changed utterly. In that moment of acknowledgment, a shared mortality in which each symptom inscribes itself as an ideograph of the inevitable death that is all we humans share”.

And the pay-off? The young man’s come to him about his piles …

There’s yet another incredibly awkward conversation between Stephen and Rose Marie. She once again turns on the full power of her considerable sexuality to discomfort him (I love the production detail that plastic nipples were sown into Barbara Flynn’s costume – thereby ensuring that Rose Marie proved to be just that little more distracting at all times!)

When Rose Marie leans in even closer to tell Stephen that she finds him attractive, there’s another lovely touch from Davison as he swallows nervously and clears his throat. Once again, he’s mainly reacting, but it’s still done very well. It hard to take your eyes off Flynn though – the way she doesn’t break eye contact, how she uses her hand to draw attention to the points she’s making – it’s another masterclass in allure.

Rose Marie has come to tell him that he really should claim joint ownership of Bob’s paper. As we’ve already had a faint suggestion that there’s something wrong with Confidan, this is obviously another of Rose Marie’s manuvoures designed to embarrass and weaken her colleagues. There’s a very interesting cynical line reading from Davison late in the scene (“as a colleague and a friend?”) that seems to suggest he’s aware that Rose Marie is playing him, but this doesn’t seem to be as scripted as afterwards Stephen goes on merrily assisting Bob.

Both Bob and Stephen are presented somewhat as innocents. Lyn’s the one who suggests they set up a control group – supplied with a placebo – so their results can be compared against those prescribed Confidan. Stephen reacts in wonder at this (“that’s brilliant”) whilst she considers it to be simply common sense.

Lyn’s a constant presence throughout the episode. Whether she’s slowly drawing out Stephen’s confidence (first with a kiss and then by sharing the same bed) it’s plain that a great deal of his new-found resolve comes from her. The fact that he’s beginning to fall in love doesn’t please her though. She likes him a lot, but she also has interests elsewhere.

Bob’s noticed the change in him, approvingly putting it down to his “totty” (“she’s not my totty” Stephen weakly replies). Daphne refers to her as a “tart” and is highly undelighted that Bob’s invited her and Stephen to Sunday lunch. Daphne’s so utterly horrible during the scene where she and Bob are discussing the upcoming lunch, that it does shine a little light into what may be a fairly wretched home life for Bob. But when he plaintively asks Daphne if she actually loves him (again, a very child-like question) she does cease her sniping and responds to him as a mother would to her son.

Stephen and Lyn are left alone with Ollie and Simon while Bob and Daphne argue in the kitchen. The boys keen them entertained with a rundown of the terrible people their daddy has to work with. “The mad old fart and the uppity dyke. And the wet liberal. He’s so wet you could shoot snipe off his back”.

It’s no surprise to learn that Confidan has a major flaw (nothing serious, but it causes a nasty ear inflammation) which means that Bob has to reluctantly file a negative report. Stephen berates him over the fact that he already knew an American trial was similarly affected, but Bob weakly responds that he was assured the problems had been fixed. After all, if you can’t trust a major international pharmaceutical company who can you trust?

Black Bob’s Hamburger Suit has always been a favourite, thanks to the way it puts David Troughton front and centre. He seems to relish every line and delivers them perfectly. There are a number of stand-out scenes, but one of most memorable has to be when Bob – making an early start – discovers Jock attempting to hang himself (a bleak moment, albiet dealt with in a comic way).

After Bob is told to go away he does, all the way to his office. There’s a few exquisitely timed beats until he wheels around and returns to Jock. He then tells Jock that he shouldn’t really kill himself. Instead he prescribes him a course of Confidan ….

Threads – Simply Media DVD Review

April 3, 2018April 3, 2018 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's, Simply Media barry hines, karen meagher, mick jackson, simply media, threads

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Threads may be nearly thirty five years old, but time has done nothing to dent its horrifying impact. Broadcast in 1984, during a period when the Cold War was still very chilly, it portrays in unflinching detail the aftermath of a nuclear attack.

Set in Sheffield, following the detonation of a 210 megaton bomb which has devastated the country and decimated the population, this docudrama (scripted by Barry Hines and directed by Mick Jackson) follows the path of several survivors, most notably Ruth Beckett (Karen Meagher).

Without fresh water or any form of sanitation, Sheffield quickly becomes a breeding ground for numerous diseases such as cholera and typhoid. And with food in short supply, a new class of scavenger criminal emerges and extreme measures – capital punishment – are applied in order to keep control.

But any form of control proves to be impossible as radiation sickness and damage to the ozone layer continues to thin an already shrinking population. Over time Britain returns to a state of medievalism – some toil in the fields using hand-held tools with the majority living in a state little better than animals. There are a few faint signs of hope – limited technology still exists – but the final scene (featuring Ruth’s daughter Jane) is as downbeat as it could possibly be.

Once the bomb drops, a remorseless, crushing feeling of despair permeates every frame as Ruth, the audience identification figure, finds herself buffeted through a series of horrendous adventures in which the normal rules of civilisation have been blown away. Images of a shell-shocked Ruth, wandering through a wrecked and nightmarish landscape, peopled with the dazed, disfigured and dying are incredibly affecting. The use of a narrator – Paul Vaughan – together with on-screen graphics and stills adds to the documentary feel and therefore helps to generate yet another level of unease. It’s also a useful storytelling device, since it enables key information to be clearly disseminated (had characters started reeling off reams of statistics it wouldn’t have worked as well).

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Utilising the real Protect and Survive Public Information Films, voiced by the unmistakable tones of Patrick Allen (he later provided something similar for Frankie Goes To Hollywood’s Two Tribes) was a well judged move. Produced in the 1970’s (although never actually aired) they offered a fairly optimistic picture of what life after a nuclear attack would be like. So the juxtaposition between Allen’s confident tones and the reality as depicted on screen is striking and bleakly ironic.

Many images from Threads will linger long in the memory (burning cats, mothers cradling the charred corpses of their babies or the fact that rat has now become a prized foodstuff). It’s interesting to learn that Mick Jackson originally planned to use the cast of Coronation Street – how much more horrifying would it have been if we’d witnessed the Weatherfield regulars in such distress?

After the original transmission, Jackson received a letter of support from Neil Kinnock and he later learnt that President Reagan had watched the American broadcast. It’s to be hoped that copies of the current editions make their way to today’s world leaders ….

Threads has been released on DVD before (and was also released on BD in America by Severin Films earlier this year) but Simply’s two disc DVD set looks to be, at the moment, the definitive release. Although it might be assumed that Severin’s BD would have trumped Simply’s DVD, there’s some evidence to suggest that’s not the case. The BD used the TX prints (which due to their age were somewhat worn and faded) as the starting point for their restoration whilst Simply’s DVD was granted access to the fine grain CRI films (which have been in storage since 1984 and were both unfaded and undamaged).

If Simply can licence a BD at a later date (rights issues have prevented them from doing so at present) then that will be the best of all worlds, but even at the moment it seems that the upscaled Simply DVD will trump the Severin BD in terms of picture quality. The colour palette is obviously very muted and the picture displays evidence of grain, but that’s what I’d have expected (a lighter grade and the elimination of grain would be somewhat against the bleak intention of the piece).

What makes this DVD particularly appealing is the range of special features assembled. Contextual extras are always welcome on any release, but in the case of Threads – a programme of considerable significance – they become even more valuable. The two audio commentaries (one with Mick Jackson and the other with Karen Meagher) both contain fascinating production details as do the four documentaries –

Auditioning for the Apocalypse (9″ 18′)
Destruction Designer (9″ 21′)
Shooting the Annihilation (8″ 39′)
Stephen Thrower on Threads (28″ 59′)

Although in total they only run to an hour or so, a fair deal of ground is covered and together with the two commentaries ensure that pretty much all of the bases are covered. The PDF material from the Radio Times is also worth a look, with the letters pages (featuring strong opinions both for and against) being especially notable. A shame though that the Newsnight Nuclear Debate, which ran the same week as Threads, presumably wasn’t able to be licenced, as it would have been a valuable addition.

Everybody should see Threads at least once, although it’s understandable that it won’t be something which many will revisit on a regular basis. But it’s a programme that needs to be kept in circulation and – thanks to Simply’s new restoration – is now available in greater clarity than before.

Chilling, devastating and emotionally draining, this is an exceptional piece of British television drama.

Threads is released on the 9th of April 2018 by Simply Media, RRP £14.99, and can be ordered directly from Simply here.

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A Very Peculiar Practice – Wives of Great Men

April 2, 2018March 31, 2018 archivetvmusings BBC Comedy - 1980's, BBC Drama - 1980's a very peculiar practice, barbara flynn, david troughton, graham crowden, peter davison, timothy west

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Professor John Furie (Timothy West) is a middle-aged senior academic going through a serious mid life crisis. Suffering from listlessness and a lack of drive, he reacts with anger after Stephen tentatively suggests they dig a little deeper to discover what the problem might be. But Furie is a man of wild mood swings and shortly after he informs Stephen that he’s made an enemy for life, he’s suddenly changed tack and decides that Stephen is “one hell of a doctor”. Although whether it’s better to have Furie as an ally or an enemy is debatable ….

The obvious highlight of Wives of Great Man is Timothy West’s barnstorming bewigged performance as Professor Furie (aptly named, since he’s in constant state of … well, fury). But the rest of the episode is excellent too, kicking off with a typically entertaining practice meeting.

Today there’s an innovation as Maureen (Lindy Whiteford) is an unwilling attendee. It’s interesting to see whilst Rose Marie supported her presence, after Maureen praises Stephen there’s a decidedly chilly atmosphere between the two women. And even affable old Jock, who brought Maureen into the meeting in the first place, is irritated by the fact that she actually has the temerity to open her mouth and voice an opinion. The practice hierarchy (with Maureen at the bottom – despite doing a good deal of the work) is made very clear here.

Clashes between Jock and Bob are always a highlight.

Jock: Bob has some figures for us, culled from his rinky-dinky little computer. Bob!
Bob: Thanks Jock! [pause] Do you think you could manage “Robert”?
Jock: I’ll try, Bob. Old habits die hard.
Bob: Riiight.

Bob continues to look for savings. Closing down the sick bay and ceasing treatment for the wives of the staff would certainly be one way to streamline (and then they could look for some lucrative private income). But everyone else rejects this, leaving poor Bob frustrated (Troughton’s tight-lipped affability at this point is perfectly done). When Jock calls him “cynical” and an “opportunist” Bob doesn’t react with annoyance, instead he agrees with him. “Not dirty words in my book”. It is the 1980’s after all.

Stephen later has several meetings with his colleagues. First of all Jock, who tells him to “search out the deep sexual anxiety” when dealing with his patients. Stephen later does this with Furie of course, with disastrous results. Rose Marie once again unsettles him (she describes Furie as a “hollow plaster phallus”). Davison may not seem to be doing too much during these scenes except react (as he also does when facing the Furie onslaught) but it’s the way he reacts that’s key.

Stephen’s first meeting with Furie is rocky. “You insulting little bastard” rages the Professor after Stephen has tentatively attempted to find out how Furie’s tiredness manifests itself. Stephen’s suggestion that Furie undertakes a full medical doesn’t go down any better. “Oh yes you’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you? Feel a little more in control of the situation if you had me naked and bent double with two rubber-gloved fingers up my arse”.

Post consultation, a shattered Stephen seems to have regressed to a schoolboy, anxiously looking out the window and then skulking in corners when he does leave the practice, convinced that Furie will leap out at any moment and duff him up. Jock and Bob – united for once – offer no comfort as they tell him that whilst Furie isn’t exactly a homicidal personality he’s definitely a bit of a ruffian. The glee on Bob’s face makes it plain that he’s anticipating some pain (a few broken ribs maybe) to come Stephen’s way.

When Furie suddenly treats Stephen as his best friend (“one hell of a doctor”, remember) it’s another wonderful opportunity for Davison to play the straight man. But he’s gifted some nice comic touches too – when Stephen spies Furie advancing on him and Lyn he dives under the table, convinced that a battering is on the cards. So when Furie instead wants to shake him by the hand, Stephen has to do so from under the table ….

Earlier, Stephen had reacted with surprise at the news that the wives of the university staff required so much treatment. Rose Marie wasn’t (telling him that their husbands make them sick, literally). As per the episode title, this is a theme developed throughout as Furie’s manic suspicion that his long-suffering and ever-loving wife Helen (Philippa Urquhart) is having an affair colours his every action. Thanks to his manic mood swings (not helped by mixing the pills prescribed by Stephen with alcohol) he changes from acidly suspicious to remorseful in a heartbeat.

Although given that it seemed to be earlier set up that Furie was unsure about whether his wife was having an affair, when we later discover that she is (and Furie knows about it) it does feel slightly odd. Why was he so suspicious if everything was already out in the open?

The humour of Furie’s earlier, unbridled public insults (telling the waitress after an indigestible steak that he wished to pass “my compliments to the chef, and would he care for a fistfight with Professor Furie?”) gives way to a quieter tone as Helen unburdens herself to Stephen. That he reacts in horror to the tales of her home-life whilst she treats the stories of her husband’s manic mood swings with amused indulgence is an interesting touch.

Furie has been down, then up and then down again. His climatic encounter with Stephen – now once again more his enemy – is another classic moment. Having walked through the pond to reach the surgery, he bursts into Stephen’s consulting room, convinced that the mild Dr Daker has been conducting an affair with his wife.

Stephen: Do sit down, I was hoping we could have a chat.
Furie: About my wife, perhaps?
Stephen: No. I did speak to her yesterday, I hope you don’t mind.
Furie: In bed, no doubt. While you were shafting her, no doubt! Typical of you cold-blooded Tavvy types! Yes I do mind, very much indeed, does that surprise you? My God, I thought of Buzzard, I even thought of McCannon, but it was you, you all the time, Daker! And don’t think I’m unaware of the part the Chilean government played in this!
Stephen: [pressing intercom, meekly] Help!

Delightfully, after pressing the intercom, Furie’s continuing diatribe is then broadcast to a rapt waiting room full of patients who soak up every word!

Help arrives. Bob is felled with a single blow and Jock cowers in the corner, so it’s possibly not too surprising that Rose Marie is the one who takes charge – efficiently pinning Furie to the floor whilst calmly advising Stephen that he should phone for an ambulance.

The parting shot of the episode – Rose Marie suggests to Stephen that she is the person Helen is having an affair with – is intriguing. Whether it’s true or not – and with Rose Marie you often can’t be sure – it ensures that the episode closes on a reflective note.

A Very Peculiar Practice – We Love You, That’s Why We’re Here

April 1, 2018March 30, 2018 archivetvmusings BBC Comedy - 1980's, BBC Drama - 1980's a very peculiar practice, barbara flynn, david troughton, graham crowden, peter davison

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The episode begins with Stephen suffering from an anxiety nightmare. Dressed in his pyjamas, he finds himself driving through the confusing university one-way system. The honking incidental music slightly spoils the mood alas.

He’s broken from this reverie by Chen, his roommate, who’s brought him a cup of tea. Chen’s a rarity – someone who accepts Stephen for who he is and was friendly towards him from their initial meeting. He listens with sympathy when Stephen tells him that his nightmare was simply “panic and terror, just ordinary stuff”.

The practice meetings are always a joy. Jock is holding forth on today’s topic with Bob and Rose Marie sniping at each other whilst Stephen looks on (a common occurrence). It’s the first day of term and Jock decides that – King Lear like – he’s inclined to share his kingdom amongst the others.

The prize on offer is Jock’s job of informing the freshers precisely what the health centre can offer them. After Jock’s delightfully condescending treatment of Rose Marie (calling her a lovely wee lassie and patting her knee) the three outline their ideas.

Bob’s all for telling the new intake precisely how much it costs to treat them and why they should be grateful. To him they’re machines and whilst he’s prepared to patch them up, he also believes that they need to look after themselves (a very Thatcherite spiel). Rose Marie is more concerned about the way that the university is little more than a phallocentric organisation designed to oppress women.

Given all he’s observed, Stephen’s initially reluctant to articulate his own opinions. But his stuttering heartfelt philosophy chimes with perfectly with Jock. It’s inevitable then that Jock will offer the job to a very unwilling Stephen. Bob (offering an ironic slow handicap) and Rose Marie (later telling Stephen that she’s unable to help him with his speech as he’s part of the problem, not the solution) are both far from delighted but it’s interesting that neither attempt to challenge the decision. Do they believe that the job is a poisoned chalice?

More dream sequences follow as Stephen – in pyjamas again – faces an oppressive hall full of chanting students. Even Lyn offers no succour (she jogs out of the hall smiling). Will the real meeting be better? Well, a dangerous mix of drink and drugs helps to loosen his tongue ….

The drugs – of the anti anxiety kind – were supplied by Bob. This was an act of decency on his part (after gleefully telling Stephen he was “up shit creek”). Troughton’s embarrassed reaction after Stephen thanks Bob is a lovely little moment. The alcohol was supplied by Chen (in Stephen’s tea) which is a problem since the drugs and any alcohol don’t really mix. Stephen’s freewheeling speech goes down a storm with the students although the grim-faced academics sitting alongside him seem less impressed.

We also follow two new students, Megan (Kate Eaton) and Angie (Francesca Brill), throughout the episode. Roommates they may be, but they could hardly be more different. Megan is Welsh, plain, humourless and dedicated to her studies whilst Angie is attractive, hyperactive, stylish and desperately keen to throw herself into university life (she’s constantly on the look out for the in crowd).

Angie later seeks out Stephen for a consultation. This helps to chip away at her confident public image (revealing the anxious girl underneath). Davison has an excellent bedside manner it has to be said. Angie wants to go onto the pill as she’s decided that her new drama teacher, Carl Pierce (Peter Blake), is the man for her.

Stephen and Lyn enjoy a drink as she fills in a bit of her background. Lyn’s a policewoman who’s come to the university to take a PhD in body language. That couldn’t be more perfect as she’s therefore uniquely qualified to heal Stephen’s touch taboo. He’s fine with patients, it’s just everyone else he can’t touch (admitting to Lyn that nobody gives him any cuddles).

Hugh Grant makes a brief appearance as Colin, a Scottish preacher. Megan and Stephen both attend one of his overpowering sermons – Megan is an instant convert whilst Stephen is much less connected.

Peter Blake’s role isn’t much larger than Grant’s, but it’s fairly key. Participating in Carl’s drama workshop is another way of attempting to cure Stephen of his touch taboo. What’s more important though is that Stephen’s on hand to diagnose that Carl is suffering from glaucoma. This scene also punctures Angie’s hopes and dreams – Carl tells her that he doesn’t mess around with his students, plus he’s in a long term relationship and there’s the small matter that he’s gay. Brill – who appears to have dropped out of acting some twenty years ago – handles this scene well. Indeed, overall it’s a very nicely judged performance.

Angie later admits to Stephen that she’s something of a fantasist (which of course should have been plain by now). But she maintains a cheerful persona and we leave her in a hopeful place. The news that Megan has got engaged to Preacher Colin is more of a surprise (when the pair visit Stephen, Hugh Grant isn’t called upon to do anything more than look faintly surprised and/or apprehensive).

With Stephen and Lyn ending the episode holding hands, it seems that things are looking up for him as well …

A Very Peculiar Practice – A Very Long Way From Anywhere

March 31, 2018March 31, 2018 archivetvmusings BBC Comedy - 1980's, BBC Drama - 1980's a very peculiar practice, andrew davies, barbara flynn, david troughton, graham crowden, peter davison

AVPP was born out of necessity rather than inspiration. Andrew Davies had been commissioned to write a series about three mature women students but had lost inspiration after penning several episodes. The BBC, having already paid him upfront for the whole series, gave him two options – either return the money or write something else.

Davies decided that writing something else would be less painful, so the bizarre world of Lowlands University began to take shape. Drawing on his memories of his own past (Davies had been a lecturer at the Warwick Institute of Education) he set to work.

Receiving top billing, Peter Davison, as Stephen Daker, is the still point of the series. Surrounded by three grotesques – Jock, Bob and Rose Marie – Stephen’s function (especially in this opening episode) is to operate as their straight man. Although Davison possesses a sly and sharp sense of humour, he was quite relaxed at the prospect of being the “normal” one. “I was quite happy to be surrounded by lunatics. In effect, I was the one who the audience related to in the midst of these madmen – or madwomen”.

Miscommunication is at the heart of A Very Long Way From Anywhere. Stephen, having made the decision to make a clean break from the shattered detritus of his marriage, is determined to make a fresh start at Lowlands. But his problems start right from the moment he runs into the formidable practice receptionist – who needs some convincing that he’s a doctor and not a patient.

But that’s nothing compared to the confusion generated when he meets the senior member of the practice, Dr Jock McCannon (Graham Crowden). It won’t surprise you to hear that Crowden has a habit of stealing scenes, although when he’s placed opposite David Troughton then the honours are more even.

Jock: Would you care for a wee drop of something, Stephen?
Stephen: Oh, not for me! Bit early in the morning.
Jock: Oh! Very wise! I’m delighted to hear you say it. As a matter of fact, your predecessor gave us some cause for anxiety there. Ohhh, he gave the vodka bottle a most tremendous pummelling! [he pours himself a very generous tumbler full of scotch]
Jock: A total abstainer, eh? Very wise!

David Troughton’s Dr Bob Buzzard is gifted a whole tranche of sparkling dialogue. He begins by outlining to Stephen exactly how the University runs. “I’ll tell you what it’s like. It’s like a very, very inefficient sector of British industry. Top management are totally corrupt and idle, middle management are incompetent and idle, and the workforce are bolshy. And idle. And of course, there’s no bloody product!”

The moment when they compare notes, re their respective careers, is also wonderfully quotable. Davison underplays beautifully.

Bob: Now then. What’s your track record, old chap?
Stephen: Track record?
Bob: Absolutely right! Fair’s fair: Mine first. Classical tale of a promising career gone sour. Shrewsbury. Trinity. Guy’s. Royal Durham, ICI, Princeton. Spell in Saudi. Then, fatal mistake: Came here. What about you?
Stephen: Birmingham… Birmingham… Birmingham… Walsall.

Dr Rose Marie (Barbara Flynn) is a formidable feminist whose character seems to be just as relevant today as she was then (easy to imagine she’d be a hit on Twitter). Stephen’s introduction to her is short but not terribly sweet (I love the way that Davison’s face falls when Bob cheerily tells Stephen afterwards that she’ll now be his enemy for life!)

Rose Marie’s modus operandi is made clear when she later tells a patient, Antonia (Liz Crowther), that illness “is something that men do to women”. Flynn’s performance is a great deal more contained than the hyperactive Troughton, but it’s the contrast between the polar opposite characters of Rose Marie and Bob which helps to generate some lovely comic clashes in the upcoming episodes.

After reeling from these three encounters, Stephen then has a more pleasant meeting with ministering angel Lyn Turtle (Amanda Hillwood) at the pool (she eventually saves him from drowning). But Stephen’s continuing inability to express himself clearly leads to conflict later, after he runs into her at a drinks party organised by the Vice Chancellor Ernest Hemmingway (not that one). He’s surprised to see a pool attendant at such a party, a faux pas which he regrets straight away. And she twists the knife, just to drive the point home.

Hemmingway (John Bird) doesn’t have a great deal to do here, although he’ll play a major role later in the first series. Instead it’s his wife, Deirdre (Harriet Reynolds), who’s more to the fore during the rather excruciating (for Stephen, anyway) drinks party. Told it was very informal, Stephen’s choice of dress (a scruffy jumper) proved to be just a tad too informal. The way that Deirdre sweetly attempts to rationalise this breach of etiquette (possibly he’s just got off a flight and the airline has lost his luggage?) is another delight.

The final significant moment of the episode comes after Stephen dispatches a Chinese student (Sarah Lam) suffering from acute appendicitis to the hospital. Jock had examined her earlier, but decided that her symptoms were nothing more than home sickness. The fundamentally decent Stephen is appalled at the way that Jock let her down (made worse by the fact that she later displayed no malice towards Jock). But since Stephen can’t bring himself to publicly reproach his new boss, Jock’s little mistake is brushed under the carpet and life goes on.

Except, of course, this has served to bind Stephen just a little closer to Jock ….

Howards’ Way. Series Five – Episode Thirteen

March 29, 2018March 23, 2018 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's andrew bicknell, cindy shelley, dulcie gray, edward highmore, glyn owen, howard's way, ivor danvers, jan harvey, kate o'mara, lana morris, stephen yardley, susan gilmore, tony anholt, victoria burgoyne, willoughby gray

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It’s dramatic music to the fore as Jan follows the ambulance to the hospital. Clearly she’s feeling the pressure as her car wobbles on the road a little. Steady on Jan, you don’t want to have an accident as well. With immaculate timing, as she pulls up they’re just taking him out of the ambulance (what are the chances, eh?).

He looks in a pretty bad way but there’s no attempt to eke out the tension as a few minutes later a remarkably unsympathetic doctor tells Jan that James will be right as rain once they’ve pumped out his stomach. “Why do they do it?” the doctor muses. When Jan learns that he’d taken an overdose of sleeping pills this gives her the opportunity for some decent close-up anguished acting. And she doesn’t disappoint.

Later, when James has been pumped out and wheeled home, there’s an extraordinary little scene between him and Jan. She begins by being furious with him and then they both go at each other hammer and tongs (extreme emotions – and extreme acting – are the order of the day). Complete with ominous piano chords in the background it’s a scene you can’t forget, though I’m not entirely sure it’s for the right reasons. It seem a bit rich that Jan seems to be more upset at the anguish he’s caused her than pondering about what drove him to take such a drastic step. Or was it just a cry for help? Either or I’d say – you can put your own interpretation on events.

After shouting at Jan, James then rushes out to give Ken a bit of a slap. This is great fun as he manages to land several punches whilst Ken flails around (one of James’ blows looked a little like a martial arts move). Possibly expending this energy does the trick as afterwards he seems to quieten down a little.

James fulfilled a duel role this year – Jan’s love interest and designer – but he didn’t quite convince in either role. Every year Jan happens to stumble upon a world class designer and then later that year she loses her (or him). Fair to say that this is beginning to stretch credibility just a little. His wild mood swings didn’t exactly make him the easiest character to identify or emphasise with, so I can’t say I’m too unhappy that he didn’t return for series six. A little of his moping face goes a long way with me.

I’m a little sorrier that Vicki didn’t continue past this episode. It was a fairly undeveloped part for most of the year, but during the last few episodes – as Vicki began to exert her authority – she’s started to emerge as a much more interesting character. She and Laura make for an intimidating duo – both giggling behind their hands as the hapless Ken swans about, mistakingly under the impression that he’s still the boss.

Jack’s cool as a cucumber when Charles offers him a cool three and a half million for the Mermaid. He says nothing, just continues to blow out his cigar smoke ….

It’s remarkable how everybody, apart from Jack, seems to think that selling the Mermaid is a bad idea. Only last year Tom was debating the possibility of buying another yard – offering more space – so I’m not entirely sure why there’s such a sudden reversal. Jack makes the very good point that with the money Charles is offering they could afford to buy the best, but Avril isn’t swayed by this (for her, tradition is everything). As touched upon before, this is an ironic about turn – normally Jack is the one chuntering on about tradition.

Jack pops the question again to Vanessa, but she’s disinclined to give him an answer until she knows if he plans to sell the yard. Maybe that influenced his decision not to sell? But given that we’ve previously established that Tom, Avril and Jan are able to outvote him, this seems to be a slightly unsatisfactory plotline (attempting to generate tension where none exists). After all, if the others are united (which they are) then there’s no crisis. Was this a sign that the tangled plotthreads from the past five years were beginning to fox the writers?

It’s like deva vu all over again as Ken and Leo face each other in a powerboat race. But first of all Leo needs to get permission from his mother ….

Well not quite, but Avril’s not at all happy at the thought of Leo back racing and tells him that if Jan forbids it then it’s not going to happen. Leo, tired of being treated like a stroppy child, doesn’t take this terribly well. We don’t actually see or hear Jan’s thoughts on Leo risking life and limb – can we take this as another example of Jan’s self-centeredness? Is she so obsessed with her next fashion show that she doesn’t really care about her son?

Another fashion show? But we had one only the other week. To the delicate strains of the Fine Young Cannibals and Enya the models strut their stuff down the catwalk. You know the sort of thing. Earlier, James had been a little frantic. You know the sort of thing. Of course it’s all a fantastic success and Jan is showered with kisses and flowers at the end. Hurrah!

It’s odd that James was backstage at the time and so didn’t join in with the celebration. There also seems to something of a hard cut during the scene when he meets with Jan backstage, as it ends rather abruptly.

I want a plane like Charles’. That’s the ultimate executive toy.

Abby’s been rather in the background today. We’re about forty minute in before she has her first decent scene – meeting with Orrin’s lawyer to talk about a divorce settlement. Surprise, surprise, the Hudsons aren’t willing to give up custody of William – something which causes Abby to react with anger. Clearly she’s been keeping her feelings repressed for some time (once she knows for sure what the position is, then there’s a furious release).

It’s possibly not too hard to guess what happens next. Overcome, she rushes out of the house and straight into the path of two motorcyclists. We’re denied a sight of the accident (cheapskate producers) so have to make do with the sight of a prone Abby lying in the road with an anxious Gerald close by. Just as round two of Leo verses Ken is familiar, so is the fact that Abby – following an accident – is forced to give birth prematurely.

Oh, and Leo beats Ken, but when news of Abby’s accident comes through it obviously doesn’t seem so important. But that’s only the beginning of Ken’s troubles as Laura breaks the happy news that he’s lost control of Leisure Cruise. Thanks to Vicki and Sir Alan, Laura’s now gained a majority shareholding and wants Ken out of the office straight away. “You double dealing little bitch” he snarls. Lovely stuff!

The final shot of a champagne drenched Ken echoes the similar scene from the end of series four. But then Ken was celebrating, now he’s tasting only defeat (Laura mockingly showered him with champagne this time round).

This would have been a decent way to close series five, but there was obviously a more dramatic beat to end on. The sight of an unconscious Abby – who may or may not wake up – surrounded by Leo, Charles and Gerald (with news that the hospital were able to save the child – a boy) ensures that we finish on a very sombre note.

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Howards’ Way. Series Five – Episode Twelve

March 28, 2018March 28, 2018 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's andrew bicknell, cindy shelley, dulcie gray, edward highmore, glyn owen, howard's way, ivor danvers, jan harvey, kate o'mara, lana morris, stephen yardley, susan gilmore, tony anholt, victoria burgoyne, willoughby gray

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Whilst Gerald tries to keep Frere Holdings together, Charles is out sailing. Sir John takes a dim view of this. “Nero only fiddled”. It’s unusual to see Charles crewing such a small boat (and in a race as well) as in the past he’s tended to restrict his water-based activities to lounging about on his yacht.

It’s a pretty filthy day. Well in some shots. The curse of filming means that one moment the sky is overcast and the next the sun’s out. Oh and I like Charles’ hat. No really.

This is a major location shoot with many of the regulars close at hand – Jack, Vanessa and Laura are observing proceedings from the comfort of a speedboat whilst Ken and Vicki are also part of the race. Charles wins. Hurrah! Jack’s delighted too as even though Charlie Frere was the winner, at least he won it in a Jack Rolfe designed boat.

Kate, Abby and a number of fellow campaigners have started their protest. In practice this means that they’re walking round and round the main gate of the Mermaid (in eerie silence) carrying their placards. Kate does make the very good point that they really should be chanting something, but I’ve a sneaking suspicion that had they done so then all the extras would have had to have been paid more money. So they remain silent and menacing (or silent and silly, depending on your point of view).

And where is the boy Leo? Out racing powerboats, that’s where. Although he was supposed to have retired, he’s clearly happy to be back in the saddle. Later we see Abby standing on the headland (her bump getting more pronounced by the minute) looking far from happy at the risks he’s taking.

We haven’t heard the “M” word for a while, but seventeen minutes in Charles utters it. “I shall have to fly out to Malta” he says. Yes, of course. Charles’ sailing win has generated some good publicity but Frere Holdings needs to press ahead with the Marina development in order to regain the confidence of the city. And this will only happen if they can buy up the Mermaid Yard.

Jack’s surprisingly keen to listen to Charles’ proposal (you’d have expected him to dismiss it out of hand). Although Jack is an arch traditionalist, he claims to be puzzled as to why everybody’s getting into a tizzy. He declares that the Mermaid is simply a patch of land with some huts on it. This statement – and his later comment of “too many memories” – tends to tie into Jack’s running theme this year (the way he’s been haunted by the ghosts of his past).

Ken and Laura are – delightfully – each scheming away. Laura’s popped over to see Charles whilst Ken’s planning to entertain Sir Alan. Laura finds that Charles gives her a friendly welcome (Gerald is much frostier of course). Later Laura and Charles enjoy a convivial dinner – he’s tuxedo’d up, she’s dressed to kill – where she drops the bombshell that Ken’s joined forces with Sir Edward and Hudson in order to beat Charles at his own game and snatch the Malta prize from under his nose.

This rendezvous also gives us the more than interesting sight of Laura attempting to seduce Charles. The next day we find that Gerald’s incredibly jealous at the thought of Charles and Laura coupled together, but Charles tells him that he’s built of sterner stuff. “Oh it was tempting … for a moment”. In other words, Gerald’s judgement was lacking when he got involved with Laura but Charles is much more streetwise. Gerald seems to accept this with reasonably good grace.

Charles then prepares to revenge himself against Ken – if he pulls out of the Malta venture then Sir Edward will lose interest in backing Ken (since his only reason for doing so is Charles’ involvement). Since this rehashes an identical plotline from last year you’d have thought Ken might have foreseen this. Ken agrees to hand over his Relton shares to Charles and once he’s done that Charles will withdraw from the Malta bid and Ken’ s path will be clear. Are you keeping track of all this? Things are beginning to get a bit complicated.

Sir Alan’s keen to invest in Ken’s latest business venture, but only if Vicki becomes a shareholder at Leisure Cruise. The later revelation that Sir Alan and Laura are friendly suggests that Ken’s troubles are only increasing ….

Jan and James are very merry. After moping around for most of this year, James eventually seems to have turned a corner – joshing Jan that she’s eventually going to turn into her mother! And if Sir John can arrange for the bank to repay James’ loan to Ken then he’d be happier still. Later, James pops round to Leisure Cruise for a face-off with Ken. James has got the cheque which releases him from his obligation to Ken, although Ken’s not at all chuffed (“you’re going to regret this”). Ken’s then on the phone to someone called Jeremy. “I’ve got a little job for you”.

Is Jeremy a hit man? Not really, at least, not in that sense (he obviously works for the Southern Independent). James isn’t quite the main headline (that belongs to “Airliners get FBI gun guard”) but he’s still been granted a prominent spot on the front page (“Howard Brooke Designer in model’s death mystery”). James doesn’t take it well. Ensconced in a Weymouth hotel, we see him lying spark out on his bed with an empty bottle of pills close by. Jan leaps into her car and sets off for the hotel – clearly she’s quite an upwardly mobile sort of person as her car has a phone (an unusual sight in 1989).

But when she pulls up to the hotel, she sees an ambulance heading out ….

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Howards’ Way. Series Five – Episode Eleven

March 27, 2018March 19, 2018 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's andrew bicknell, cindy shelley, dulcie gray, edward highmore, glyn owen, howard's way, ivor danvers, jan harvey, kate o'mara, lana morris, stephen yardley, susan gilmore, tony anholt, victoria burgoyne, willoughby gray

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Jack’s gone under the radar again, which is the cue for Bill and Vanessa to exchange worried looks. During the last few series five episodes, I often wonder which characters were given the dialogue which had been scripted for Tom. Here, it’s easy to imagine that the original conversation would have been between Tom and Vanessa.

I’ve mentioned before how HW often seems to eschew obvious dramatic setpieces. The opening of this episode is a prime example – we learn that Charles and Gerald have been found not guilty in a very low key way (Leo and Kate discuss it over the breakfast table). Given that the cliffhanger of episode ten had Ken triumphantly giving the pair a good kicking, it seems odd that the tension wasn’t ramped up by having the verdict read out in court.

Now that Charles and Gerald are in the clear, they can turn their attention to business matters once again. With the share price of Frere Holdings continuing to tumble, Charles is keen to restablish himself – and if that means taking down both Avril at Relton and Ken at Leisure Cruise then so much the better. Fair to say that Charles is out for revenge – both Avril and Ken crossed him in the witness box, so now they have to pay …

Sir John’s testimony was key in clearing them, and this favour has enabled him to restablish a strong working relationship with Charles. A pity that Sir Edward isn’t around at present, as that would have made this new alliance (especially considering the way that Sir Edward threw Sir John to the wolves last year) especially juicy.

Charles wastes no time in seeking Avril out. There’s a fascinating little exchange where he spells out his business credo. “All I’ve ever done is to try and secure the highest possible return for my shareholders. Now if that’s a crime then yes, I’m guilty”. Yes, he probably was. This is a very Thatcherite statement of intent – making money is the only thing that matters, legally or illegally.

Jan and James’ big fashion show is nearly here (it’s in Malta remember, the hub of the fashion and boating world). James is having kittens, since he’s convinced that the audience is set to rip him to shreds (although they look like rather innofensive extras to me). To the delicate strains of Terence Trent D’Arby, the models strut their stuff (primary colours are to the fore to begin with). Given that the scene’s quite a short one, there wasn’t a great deal of benefit to shooting out in Malta. It probably would have looked just as good in the UK ….

When they’re back home, Jan’s delighted with the glowing newspaper reviews – which rate Howard Brooke as one of the top European fashion houses. Unfortutely some of the other press clippings – digging out James’ American misadventures – aren’t quite so welcome.

This year has certainly been a streamlined one in terms of Jan’s fashion business. Previously she’s had to deal with production and distribution headaches, but there’s been no such problems this time round. The result is that her irristable rise and rise is more than a little unbelivable (but when there’s so many competing storylines this is possibly inevitable).

Jack continues to mope about, torturing himself about Eileen, but there’s a sense that this storyline is coming to a conclusion. For the first time, Avril speaks to him about his current despressed state and realises that her father is interested in developing his relationship with Vanessa, but the guilt he feels over his treatment of Eileen is holding him back.

Kate’s organising a one-woman campaign to save the Mermaid Yard. Once upon a time this would have been the sort of thing that Leo would have got involved in readily, but these days he’s more interested in pushing his new powerboat design. Later, Leo wryly tells Abby that Kate’s bound to corral them both – but whilst Abby’s happy to take a stand (the embers of her previous campaigning still burns) Leo’s much more ambivalent. He’ll do it because he doesn’t want to disappoint his grandmother, but despite the fact that he says he admires her fighting spirit it seems that he, left to his own devices, would be happy for the Mermaid to be levelled to the ground.

I have to say that Kate’s banners (“Hands off the Mermaid”, etc) are very professionally designed. Clearly she’s got an artistic eye.

Abby’s now decided that she wants to fight for William’s custody after all. Like her on/off/on relationship with Leo, this has been a plotline which has ebbed and flowed over the last few years. And who does she ask for help? Charles.

This is slighly surprising as when her pregnancy became public knowledge she could barely bring herself to be in the same room as him. But as so often with Abby, pragmatism seems to have won out over personal feelings. With Sir Edward no longer around, Charles is clearly the next best choice. Mind you, she could have gone to Gerald and no doubt he would have done everything he could to help her (she does give a reason why she decided not to approach him, but it doesn’t quite convinced). Abby and Gerald working together to fight for William’s custody would have worked, but there’s much more of a dramatic frisson if it’s Abby and Charles.

Ken and Laura are heading abroad (bet you can’t guess where they’re going). This leaves Gerald in the lurch, as he’d arranged to meet Laura for drinks. Gerald, pretty astute businessman that he is, finally begins to realise that Laura’s decidedly untrustworthy. But he seems to have got off lightly. I feel sorry for Ken who, completely unsuspecting, is being subtly manipulted by her, each and every step of the way ….

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Howards’ Way. Series Five – Episode Ten

March 26, 2018March 19, 2018 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's andrew bicknell, cindy shelley, dulcie gray, edward highmore, glyn owen, howard's way, ivor danvers, jan harvey, kate o'mara, lana morris, michael denison, stephen yardley, susan gilmore, tony anholt, victoria burgoyne, willoughby gray

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Maurice Colbourne’s name is no longer on the opening credits. This makes me feel very sad ….

Still, onwards with the story. Now this is more like it. Last time I was a little dismayed at the lack of media attention surrounding Charles and Gerald – but today we get the full works (cameramen, cameras, people with big boom microphones) as the beleaguered pair enter the Courts of Justice.

Jack’s banging on about Charlie Frere again. “Insider dealing, defrauding shareholders”. I’ve got the feeling that he doesn’t like him very much. He also takes the opportunity to tell Avril yet again that she should never have got involved with him. This may be stating the blindingly obvious but Jack’s also perceptive enough to realise that in order to save his own skin, Charles may very well decide to throw Avril to the wolves. This seems to be a thought that hasn’t crossed Avril’s mind though.

The boat’s been pushed out for the courtroom scenes. We’re on film and a crane is used in order to give pleasing sweeping camera moves across the court – from Charles and Gerald, sitting in the dock looking anxious, over to the Judge and then back again.

Jan storms into Leisure Cruise, hands on hips, demanding answers from Ken. She’s got a face like fury whilst Ken affects an air of puzzled innocence. With Vicki hovering in the background everything looks set for a decent showdown – although due to the way that the scenes chop and change between locations we have to wait a few minutes following her arrival for the meat of the scene.

Ken (wearing a nice green jacket) attempts to convince Jan she should be grateful for the fact that he steered James Brooke her way. True, if James defaults on his loans then his Howard Brooke shares will find their way to Ken, but he tells her that’s the last thing he wants. Mmm, yes that’s very convincing. Jan is having none of this and with her voice shaking with emotion she tells him to keep clear of her and her business. It’s slightly odd that she’s now dripping with venom towards Ken considering that at the end of series four and the start of series five they seemed on reasonable terms – but that’s the world of HW for you.

Abby, because she’s presumably the only photographer in Tarrant, has been given the job of photographing the Mermaid Yard. Her photographs, together with Jack’s text (if he ever finishes it, that is) will form a decent package to celebrate 200 years of the Mermaid. Last time she had to tell Bill to act naturally (he stopped and posed for a photo). Today sh’s decided to pose another of the workers (which does seem to be an about turn on her behalf). Wonderfully, Jack ambles up and attempts to muscle his way into the picture. Abby has to gently tell him that his beaming countenance is rather spoiling the naturalism of her composition.

Leo’s journey from the idealistic and impetuous teenager of series one to the smooth-talking businessman of series five has possibly been one of HW‘s more interesting character arcs. Today we find him sitting opposite Sir Alan Rockwell (Roger Hume) and chatting about the possibility of Sir Alan sponsoring Relton’s new powerboat.

That Sir Alan (Vicki’s uncle, remember) makes a point of praising Leo’s business acumen drives the point home that he’s come a long way. It’s quite a coincidence that just one episode after being mentioned, Sir Alan pops up in the flesh. But then Tarrant is a very small world. One of the story wrinkles about Sir Alan’s involvement is that he can they blab about Relton’s plans to Vicki who can then pass on the information to a very interested Ken. It’s all about interconnectivity.

Although Leo says that he’s been designing the powerboat, we’ve seen little evidence of this so far. He also later confides to Kate than although Avril’s keen on it, the Relton board are blocking its progress. I’ve commented before on how Relton seems to have shrunk to just two people (Avril and Leo) and this mention of the (never seen) board just highlights this fact. There would have been dramatic capital in a few decent boardroom squabbles, showing Avril coming under pressure, but it sadly wasn’t a direction that was taken up.

Back to the courthouse, both Charles and Gerald have fairly rough rides in the witness box. The human drama of Charles and Gerald’s squirming keeps these scenes ticking along nicely, since the ins and outs of who bought shares and when does tend to make my eyes glaze over after a while ….

Avril’s next up and finds herself grilled by Charles and Gerald’s defence lawyer, Lee Simons. Charles looks slightly sheepish at the way Avril’s put under pressure, but he can’t do anything to stop it. Mind you, later he’s forced to admit that Avril gave as good as she got (“unfortunately” he adds).

Kate’s still fretting about the fate of the Mermaid and erupts when she learns that Jack hasn’t told Vanessa the news. Or erupts as much as a well-bred English lady ever could. Another lovely scene for Dulcie Gray. “My god, when I get my hands on that devious so and so I’ll break his neck!”. Ah, wonderful, wonderful Dulcie Gray.

Gerald continues to find solace with Laura. Considering that she’s been behaving like a smiling monster with everybody else recently, I find their relationship a little suspicious – but at the moment it does seem that her feelings for him are genuine.

Jack’s turned maudlin again. Over a pint or three at the Jolly Sailor he once again laments the way he treated his late wife, Eileen. The ever-sensible Bill attempts to talk some sense into him, but Jack continues to torture himself. He admits that he hasn’t visited her grave since the day they buried her (“I just can’t bring myself to do it”).

Katherina Freiin Schell von Bauschlott, better known as Catherine Schell, turns up in today’s episode as Yvette Studer. She’s a contact of Jan and James and the pair have travelled abroad to meet her and discuss their next fashion show. Can you guess which part of the world? Might it just possibly be …. Malta? Yes, that’s right. Malta, the hub of the world.

The Mermaid Yard is all set to celebrate it’s two hundredth anniversary. They’ve got a marquee, plenty of alcohol and a brass band but the only thing they’re missing is Jack. As the brass band parp their way though A Life On The Ocean Wave, Jack’s finally plucked up the courage to visit the grave of his late wife. It’s only a short, dialogue-free, scene but it’s also a significant one. Now that Jack has dealt with the ghost from his past he can look to the future with renewed optimism.

Ken’s next to take his turn in the witness box and he wastes no time in putting the boot into Charles and Gerald with the maximum amount of relish ….

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Howards’ Way. Series Five – Episode Nine

March 25, 2018August 26, 2018 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's andrew bicknell, cindy shelley, dulcie gray, edward highmore, glyn owen, howard's way, ivor danvers, jan harvey, kate o'mara, lana morris, maurice colbourne, michael denison, stephen yardley, susan gilmore, tony anholt, victoria burgoyne, willoughby gray

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Avril’s gone back abroad for another business meeting. Where she could be …. I wonder if it might just be Malta? I wasn’t expecting to see a topless Tom sipping an orange juice though. Whilst it’s nice that the actors weren’t stuck in England, pretending that it was a lovely sunny day, from the fluttering umbrellas it’s clear that the weather in Malta wasn’t terribly balmy either. But Colbourne and Gilmore – troopers that they are – do their best to convince us that it’s not at all cold.

Leo’s a bit touchy at present, snapping at Kate when she discusses the forthcoming baby. As for Kate herself, it seems that romance might just be in the air, although Jan is baffled as to who her suitor might be. Regular HW watchers are probably better informed – which means that the reappearance of Admiral Francis Redfern (Michael Denison) shouldn’t really come as a surprise to many.

If Kate’s back than that means we go back to the races. But Kate’s got more than horsey business on her mind as she wants Francis to photocopy (or photostat as she says) several documents from the Planning Comittee he sits on. The upright Admiral Redfern doesn’t seem too put out by this, so clearly he’s deeply smitten by Kate. What’s it all about? All will be revealed later (although how Kate got to learn about it in the first place I’m not entirely sure).

Charles has to fend off a gaggle of reporters, well three to be precise. Either they’d blown the budget on the Malta filming or the continuing travails of Frere Holdings wasn’t really a big story (although this seems unlikely as it’s front page news in the Southern Indepdent – with a banner headline reading Frere Holding’s Prosecuted on Fraud Charges). Mmm, isn’t that apostrophe in the wrong place?

Anyway, back to Charles. Wearing a pair of dark glasses, despite the total lack of sunshine, he offers brief replies to the hyperactive barrage of questions lobbed his way from the two, dictaphone waving, reporters. With a photographer hovering in the background, it’s quite nicely shot although a few film cameramen would have ramped up the pressure a little.

Jack, a two-fingered typist if ever there was one, is preparing a history of a Mermaid Yard. Vanessa asks him how far he’s got amd after a minute he sheepishly has to admit that he’s sorted out the title!

Laura comes calling on James. It’s not a convivvial meeting though, as she continues to turn the screws. And with the death of someone called Nicola still preying on his concisence, it seems that Laura has plenty of material to torture him with. Cue James looking very down in the mouth. And after making James’ day, Laura then moves over to the Mermaid to give Jack an equally hard time. Her initial seemingly sweet nature seems to have evaporated totally.

Angela Down makes the first of two appearances as Charles’ defence counsel, Lee Simons. She’s a tough cookie that’s for sure, speaking sharply to Charles in a way that few people previously have. And due to his current situation he has no option but to listen carefully. Interesting for 1989 that they decided to go with a female character rather than a male one. HW does have a few female regulars (Avril, etc) in executive positions, but most of the other executive characters who pop in and out tend to be male.

After Ms Simons begins to chip away at some of the more suspect areas of Frere Holdings, it’s clear that Charles and Gerald are facing challenging times. There’s a lovely moment when she asks them quite boldy if they’re guilty! A wonderful way to close the scene.

Ken’s a little discomforted to have been called as a witness to Charles and Gerald’s upcoming hearing. Vicki offers him the benefit of her advice – initially he’s not terribly interested in anything she has to say but he perks up when he learns that she’s discussed it with her uncle, Sir Alan Rockwell, chairman of Confederated Industries. Slightly hard to believe that Ken – a man who likes to cover all the angles – didn’t realise that Vicki had such poweful connections. But it’s lovely how his expression changes from contempteous to calculating after he realises that she has relatives in high places ….

Avril and Tom are in Malta to meet the smooth-talking Sabio Fernandez. Well I say smooth-talking but the actor, Franco Rey, is the victim of a rather slipshod spot of dubbing. Rey doesn’t have that many credits to his name but they’re mostly English language roles, so I wouldn’t have thought his real accent was that strong.

Sir John’s back! He has a convivvial business lunch with Jan, who’s always keen to expand her empire. Jan’s already been giving the increasingly flaky James some hard stares in the office, but when she learns that Sir John appears to remember doing businees with him in the past, she gets rather concerned (the incidental music hammers the point home with a menacing note). I’m not quite sure why this should worry Jan though – it’s not as if Sir John remembered anything bad about him.

Ken and Laura later have an entertaining, if all too brief, argument. This leads on to Ken asking Vicki if she has any plans for the evening. She does, a drink with her boyfriend, but he asks her if she can cancel it and go out to dinner with him instead. By the expression on her face it seems that she’s quite pleased to be asked. And how was it telegraphed that Ken was interested in Vicki? Why, by the way the camera kept tight focus on her shapely backside of course. Not subtle, but it made the point.

Ken and Vicki run into Jack and Kate at the Jolly Sailor. Jack’s delighted to shake the hand of the mini-skirted Vicki whilst Kate looks on with a face like fury. Partly this is because she believes Vicki is (ahem) something more than a secretary but mainly it’s because she loathes Ken Masters with a passion. It’s nice that eventually Jan and Kate have come to agree on this. Also, nobody does a scowl like Dulcie Gray. It’s simply wonderful.

Kate then drops the bombshell to Jack that a proposed Marina development (not another Marina development?) intends to bulldoze the Mermaid. Crickey, this is what they call a packed episode.

James is becoming increasingly torturted. He tells Ken that “Jan has become very important to me and I do not want to anything that will hurt her”. Hmm, he probably should have thought about that before, shouldn’t he. As you might expect, Ken offers him not a shred of sympathy.

Later, James confesses all to Jan. His wife didn’t leave him for an estate agent, instead it was his affair with a model called Nicola Hind which caused the break-up. But the main problem was a late-night jaunt on the water with Nicola (which resulted in her death). And then he tells her that he owes an awful lot of money to Ken, who’s been blackmailing him ever since. Cue tinkling piano incidental music and a wobbly lip from Jan as she realises that Ken’s been pulling everyone’s strings.

The whole of series five, but especially this episode, has a tangible air of melancholy. Maurice Colbourne died on the 4th of August 1989 aged just 49. He’d completed work on nine of the thirteen episodes from this series, which meant that his sudden and unexpected death caused a flurry of frantic rewriting to explain his absence from the remainder of the run. The Malta footage might not have been the last material he shot for the programme (filming tended to be done at the start of the production block, prior to the studio work) but it serves as a decent, if wholly unintentional, coda to Tom’s story. Walking around Malta in the sunshine with Avril as they pick out a toy for Abby and Leo’s baby is a touching, if bittersweet, moment.

Although Tom hadn’t really featured terribly heavily in any of the main series five plotlines, the mere fact of his presence was still key. Whilst he’s been shown to be obessive and blinkered down the years, Tom Howard was also the voice and conscience of the programme. Whether he would have moved more into the forefront during series six is a moot point, but now he’s gone there will be a tangible air of loss.

Nearly thirty years later his absence from now on is still something which I find affects me, but on a positive note that can be put down to Maurice Colbourne’s sheer skill as an actor. Making Tom Howard such a compelling character is a type of immortality and it’s pleasing to think that the performances of Colbourne and his colleagues are still entertaining us, three or more decades later.

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Howards’ Way. Series Five – Episode Eight

March 24, 2018March 14, 2018 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's andrew bicknell, cindy shelley, dulcie gray, edward highmore, glyn owen, howard's way, ivor danvers, jan harvey, kate o'mara, lana morris, maurice colbourne, stephen yardley, susan gilmore, tony anholt

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We open with a nicely tanned Charles taking a dip in his outdoor pool (for once in Tarrant, it’s a sunny day). But there are, ahem, storm clouds brewing elsewhere. He spies the arrival of the police (who are also at Relton, removing paperwork by the boxfull). From this unsettling opening we switch to a taciturn Ken, who’s taken matters into his own hands by having a bonfire with his paperwork ….

There’s a lovely moment later when Ken and Laura discuss Charles’ problems. Ken tells her that since any business dealings he had with Charles never really came to anything, he has nothing to hide. “Yes, I see that the incinerator’s been working overtime” she archly comments! How does she do it? She seems to be everywhere and knows everything. It’s very unnerving.

It’s business as usual at the Mermaid. Bill’s fretting that they’re falling behind schedule whilst Jack remains blissfully unconcerned. Tom, as ever, is caught in the middle and so decides to launch a broadside attack on Jack. When Tom and Jack lock horns it’s always a joy.

There’s not been a great deal of screentime this year shared by Jan and Leo. Possibly this was just the way the storylines fell, or maybe it was a deliberate move – since it does enable Leo here to express his disapproval that his mother seems to be shutting him out. Once again, the impression is given that Jan is more interested in her business than her family.

Jan doesn’t have time at the moment to think about Leo, Abby or the baby’s upcoming scan – she’s something much more important to deal with (the launch of James’ new fashion line). If you like hats, then you’ve come to the right place as even before we discuss what the models are wearing there’s Vanessa’s (a white one, worn at jaunty angle) and Laura’s (black with a veil).

Here’s a new nugget of information (unless it’s been mentioned before and I was asleep at the time). James and Laura have a past. When she turns up it wipes the smile off his face and the same happens to Jan’s countenance after she spies Laura giving an unwilling James a long, lingering kiss. This is further evidence that beneath her friendly surface there’s an arch manipulator just waiting to get loose.

Compared to some of Jan’s previous fashion shows, this latest one is rather more upmarket. Less pop music and more classical as the models strut their stuff. I’m no expert, but the clothes don’t seem to be the sort of thing that would set the fashion world alight.

Last time the police came calling Gerald was frantic and Charles was cool. This time the positions are reversed as Charles is beginning to crack under the pressure. It’s very unusual to see him under such stress – but I guess we’ve waited the best part of five years in order to witness his unflappable persona breeched in this way.

Abby’s scan is chiefly interesting for the way that the doctor (Angus MacKay) interogates both Abby and Leo afterwards. He’s very interested to know whether Abby plans to divorce Orrin and marry Leo. Eh? His job is to check the health of Abby’s unborn child, why does he need to know all of this? I guess it’s simply a rather clumsy way of making the pair of them discuss the idea of marriage later.

This was one of MacKay’s final credits. One of those instantly recongisable actors, he was often to be found playing laywers or bank manangers (or occasionaly Time Lords, as in the Doctor Who story The Deadly Assassin). It’s only a brief scene, but it’s a pleasure to see him.

Ken – like a big flappy octopus – is extending his tentacles everywhere. He’s keen to buy Tom’s stake in Howard Brooke whilst he’s also interested in snapping up some Frere Holdings shares (given their recent problems it’s the ideal time to buy). And with Laura and Gerald very pally, maybe she could winkle some inside information out of him.

An extra layer of complexity is added to Jan’s plotline after it’s revealed that James and Ken have been seen togehter. Jan’s paranoia that Ken is scheming to destroy her (as we’ll later see, not unfounded) ensures that she and James have an entertaining ding-dong confrontation as she desperately tries to get at the truth. It starts slowly, but by the end they’ve really built up a nice head of steam. Both Jan Harvey and Andrew Bicknell aren’t holding anything back here.

What’s interesting is that it’s also another scene where Jan is painted as a totally obessive businesswoman, something which is clearly seen as a bad thing. James tells her that “if business is all you care about then you might suceed. But at what price?” Charles, Tom and Jack might all be driven by their business interests, but it’s never suggested that they’ve sacrificed anything. Jan, as a woman and a mother, is clearly held to a different standard.

But as we’ll see later, you can’t necessarily trust what James is saying.

Leo and Jan have a late night conversation. This is presumably after James has stormed out, since Jan’s looking a little the worse for wear. For the first time in a while they’re able to talk, which is clearly what Leo needs. As usual, he’s tended to keep his feelings intensly bottled up (is this the reason why he found powerboat racing so diverting – as a way to banish the negative thoughts he was unable to articulate?).

Given that it’s always been so hard to really understand what he thinks or feels, after he reveals that he doesn’t know whether Abby loves him or not (he also believes she got pregnant on purpose, rather than accidentally as she claims) it comes as something of a surprise. This scene offers Edward Highmore something a little dramatic to get his teeth into – as opposed to Leo’s more usual fare, which tends to see him reacting to others rather than forcing the narrative himself.

Unexpectedly, Kate turns up out of the blue (her first appearance this year). Although she’s been mentioned in passing, the casual viewer could have been fogiven for thinking that she’d gone for good. Her reapperance is good fun – she finds her way blocked by James, who is disinclined to let this strange woman into Jan’s house. Kate is equally perplexed as to why James is blocking her way and also why he’s got a key to her house ….

There’s a stormy Mermaid meeting. It’s obviously symbolic that Tom and Avril are sitting on one side, Jack and Vanessa are on the other with Jan somewhere in the middle. Jack suggests they develop closer ties with Ken, something which goes down like a cup of cold sick with Jan. “I don’t trust him” she mutters, a sentinment which Avril agrees with. This is a very shouty episode with Jan – once again – raising the roof. Tom, Avril and Jan vote against, so Jack’s motion is defeated 3-2. How do you think he takes it? Yes, not very well at all.

Easily my favourite moment of this episode comes when, having stormed out of the office, he spies a looming Kate. He looks mournfully as the oncoming storm approaches. “Oh, they’re bringing in reinforcements. She’s back. My headmistress”!

Following that treat, we then get confirmation that Ken and James are in cahoots. Interesting …..

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Howards’ Way. Series Five – Episode Seven

March 23, 2018March 14, 2018 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's andrew bicknell, cindy shelley, edward highmore, glyn owen, howard's way, ivor danvers, jan harvey, kate o'mara, lana morris, maurice colbourne, stephen yardley, susan gilmore, tony anholt, victoria burgoyne

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Jack’s suddenly enthused with a whole new work ethic – which causes raised eyebrows from Tom and Bill. But this is only a small skirmish compared to the fireworks ahead – Tom learns that Jack’s decided to employ Vanessa as the Mermaid’s PR agent. “It’ll put us on the map” says a confident Jack. Maybe it’s the mark of a good PR woman that although Jack and Tom were at complete loggerheads, after Tom exchanged a few words with Vanessa he backed down …

Gerald seems convinced that his relationship with Polly is over. He tells Charles that after twenty five years of marriage he’s going to miss her. “Mm hmm” says Charles. Well, not much else he could have said really. As touched upon before, it’s slightly odd they didn’t make a little more of this – Gerald mentions that Polly should be boarding her flight for America about now, but we don’t actually see it.

The main point of this scene comes a little later, after Gerald inadvertanly lets it slip that Abby’s pregnant. Given that they’ve had no (on-screen) contact this series, it’s not too surprsing that – as yet – she hasn’t confided the news to her natural father. Plus she’s yet to tell Leo either.

It’s full steam ahead in the fashion world, although James continues to fret about his new designs. I can’t take my eye of the model he’s using though (just before the twelve minute mark for those who want to check it out). This extra certainly knows how to steal a scene – just marvel at her wide range of facial expressions – so much so that I found it hard to concentrate on what Jan and James were talking about.

Orrin – sporting the yellow sweater draped around the shoulders look – is in a concilliatory mood. But Abby (not for the first time) isn’t having any of it. Do you get the feeling we’ve been here before? This is one of those plotlines that seems to have been going round and around for ages without any resolution. For now though, Orrin’s reached the end of the road (he disappears for the rest of series five, but features heavily throughout the sixth and final series).

So how long do you think it will take Leo to realise what Abby’s news is? She drops an early hint (ordering a bottle of champagne, but telling him that she shouldn’t drink any) but the penny doesn’t drop. He then has a guess (“you’ve got a new job?”) which falls slightly wide of the mark. His next guess (“you’re pregnant”) hits the bullesye, but it was clear that he was joking. Poor Leo, for all his recent sophisticated upward-mobility, at heart it seems he’s still something of a naive young lad. Or that’s how he’s being written at present.

Gerald – once again – is homing in on Laura. She’s sporting big hair today and seems very pleased to see him. Whilst Gerald and Laura are chuckling away like nobody’s business, Charles is ensonsed with Julian Burridge (John Line) – all part of his scheme to oust Avril from Relton.

Once Laura and Gerald have stopped chuckling, they discuss Charles. Gerald admits that he’s “demanding, exhausting and I wouldn’t be content working with anybody else”. Following their early series wobble, Gerald and Charles seem back on firmer ground (but nothing lasts forever). Charles meets Laura for the first time and then hotfoots over to see Abby.

I love how Charles tells her that he made extra sure the flowers he selected turned up on time (by asking with his secretary to confirm with the florist). It’s an unconcious thing no doubt, but clearly he would never think of soiling his hands by going into a florist and actually buying the flowers himself.

It’s not the most convivial of chats though – Abby’s still bitter about William and the fact that Charles hasn’t been able to help. This seems a little unfair to Charles though. From the point of view of showing a vunerable and human side to Charles’ nature, this is a good scene. So far this year, Charles has been cast in his more familar ruthless tycoon persona (so a change of pace, even for just a moment, is welcome).

Charles and Orrin later have another brief, but unappy meeting. “You’re going to regret this” mutters Orrin after Charles tells him that unless he hands over all copies of the secret recordng of their previous meeting he’ll destroy him. Quite how Charles would do this isn’t made clear, but he sounds confident. But Orrin – later sharing a beer with Ken – sounds equally confident that he’s going to squash Charles like a grape. They both can’t be right, hmm ….

Gerald (complete with flowers – you can bet he actually bought them himself) pops round to see Laura. She’s still sporting the big hair and has now squeezed herself into a little black number. It’s a gloriously sunny day in Tarrant (the sun is shining, the birds are singing). How can this be? We’re in the studio of course. This is rather apparent when Laura opens her front door and we see Gerald standing by some very fake-looking greenery.

Gerald hasn’t discussed his sexuality (or indeed been seen to have any sort of relationship other than with Polly) for some time. There seems to be something of a retcon of his character here, after he tells Laura that he used to think he was gay but he actually isn’t (he loved a man he tells her, but not in the physical way that the other man wanted).

Ivor Danvers is remarkably good in this scene, managing to make Gerald touching, tender and vunerable all at the same time. Danvers is possibly one of HW‘s less celebrated stars, but given the material he never fails to deliver.

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Howards’ Way. Series Five – Episode Six

March 22, 2018March 14, 2018 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's andrew bicknell, cindy shelley, edward highmore, glyn owen, howard's way, ivor danvers, jan harvey, kate o'mara, lana morris, maurice colbourne, patricia shakesby, stephen yardley, susan gilmore, tony anholt, victoria burgoyne

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Tom’s out for an early morning jog – doing his best Steve Austin impression. This isn’t a regular occurance, so something must be about to happen. And it does. He spies a mysterious balaclaved man (all dressed in black of course) mucking about with Spring. Tom rushes over to remonstrate, but alas he’s felled with a single punch as the masked man makes a speedy escape.

If this isn’t exciting enough (interesting that – for once – there was no incidental music during this mild action scene) then there’s better to come. A topless Leo (well, better for some people I guess) and a disheveled Abby emerge from Spring‘s cabin. The plot thickens when it’s revealed that the thief had left behind plans of Sir Edward Frere’s design for the America’s Cup.

Gerald and Charles continue to glance at their teeny-tiny monitor, worrying about their share price (the VDU display looks a little Ceefax-like. Possibly it could be Prestel, wich was still active in the late 80’s). Charles is keen to buy Ken’s Relton shares but Ken isn’t inclined to sell. Meanwhile Laura continues to scheme away – as Gerald notes, Ms Wilde is only interested in one person (herself).

Jan and James (she’s dressed stylishly in black, he’s wearing a pair of braces) clash yet again. Given what James is wearing today, I’m not entirely sure I’d trust his judgement as a fashion designer ….

Jan – fretting about Leo’s problems – finds that James is a sympathetic listener. A little more backstory about his characer is shaded in when we learn that he has, or rather had, children. It’s left dangling for the moment as to exactly what this means.

They’ve been arguing so much recently, it surely must mean that love is in the air. Our first inkling of this comes when Jan invites him to dinner. He agrees (and comes armed with a bunch of roses). Mind you, he seems surprised that Leo’s not there, so presumably he was expecting a family meal. Possibly he hasn’t dated too much recently.

He finally explains what happened to his family. His wife left him, took his children, and moved in with an estate agent from Guildford. Thank goodness! I was expecting much bleaker news – a car crash, say. Jan has a little chuckle at this, which seems a bit mean. Is it the estate agent part or the Guildford part which tickles her fancy?

And then they lock lips, only for Jan to break away to tell him that “I fired Mark this afternoon”. I’m not sure whether this was a tongue in cheek moment or if Christopher Green (today’s writer) was being serious. We know that Jan is an obsessive businesswoman, but surely even she can stop thinking about business for a few minutes?

Still, the way that they embrace again and slowly sink down out of sight whilst the camera coyly moves over to the stereo (which is pumping out a selection of light classics) makes it plain what’s going to happen next. I also love the notion that a night with passion with Jan fires James’ creative juices so much that the first thing he does next morning is to sketch out a new design. And shortly afterwards he’s created a whole new portfolio. Wow!

Following the departure of Davy a while back we haven’t, apart from Bill, had any regulars in the yard. Kelly George (as Ted) has lurked about in the background for a few episodes this year and today gets a few lines. But this is the last we’ll see of him (a year or two later he’ll pop up in Grange Hill as Ray).

Jack’s disappeared, annoyed that Vanessa’s been buying up Relton shares in order to shore up Avril’s position. “I could cheerfully strangle him” mutters Tom, after Vanessa tells him all. There are various HW‘s staples and Jack going walkabout is one. Cue several scenes of Tom and Bill anxiously standing around, waiting for news.

Given the number of times he’s done this before, it’s difficult to be too concerned about this latest vanishing act though. And so it proves as Jack’s eventually tracked down (to a boat, obviously). He looks rather good in full-on stubbly mode. Glyn Owen and Lana Morris share another nicely written two-handed scene.

Leo’s clearly not himself, as a trainee under his supervision badly injures himself lifting an engine. It’s another odd moment, since we don’t actually see the accident, only hear about it later when it’s discussed by Leo and Avril. Budget saving or an attempt to streamline the storytelling?

Last episode’s cliffhanger (will Abby stay or will she go?) is answered in an oblique way. She tells Leo that she gave him her answer the other night on Spring. His self-satisifed smirk should be all the information we need to fill in the blanks. Abby has been on the verge of confiding something important to Leo on more than one occassion this year, but just before she’s about to speak each time something distracts her. Today it’s the sight of Gerald and Laura having a meal. It’s suggested that Gerald has his eye on Laura, or is it purely business?

The thick plottens when it’s revealed that Orrin(!) was the masked man who planted the America’s Cup designs on Leo. You’d have assumed he would have been able to delegate this sort of thing to a minion, but clearly not. The killer blow is delivered when Orrin (off-screen, annoyingly) tells Tom that it was all Polly’s idea.

Gerald and Polly confront each other. He tells her that “you suck the marrow out of people’s bones and spit it out when it’s no further use to you”. Abby – stuck in the middle of their bickering – then delivers her bombshell … she’s pregnant. That Gerald immediately embraces her whilst Polly keeps her distance is highly characteristic (although Abby does make it plain that she doesn’t want her mother to touch her).

No doubt this is the important news she’s attempted to tell Leo on several occassions. Polly has a lovely deadpan comment. “Well done. Another baby to give away”.

This is easily her best line from what turns out to be her final episode. Given the way that characters tend to come and go, viewers at the time might have expected her to reappear later on, but it wasn’t to be. So it’s a slightly low-key way for Polly to exit, especially since most of the dramatic lines are coming from Gerald (he picks up a phone, rings for a taxi and tells her she has to leave the house within an hour).

Was this always intended to be her final appearance or did they hope that Patricia Shakesby would return? It feels pretty open-ended – and the fact that Polly barely featured in this episode does lead me to suppose that it wasn’t suposed to be the final end. After all, had this been planned as her last hurrah you’d have expected they would have given her something more dramatic to work with.

Howards’ Way. Series Five – Episode Five

March 21, 2018March 23, 2018 archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's andrew bicknell, cindy shelley, edward highmore, glyn owen, howard's way, ivor danvers, jan harvey, kate o'mara, lana morris, maurice colbourne, patricia shakesby, stephen yardley, susan gilmore, tony anholt, victoria burgoyne

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Leo’s come up in the world since he was a motorbike riding, petrol pump attendant during series one. Now (as a thrusting young executive at Relton, with a seat on the board beckoning) he owns an open top sports car. But his leisurely drive through a series of winding country lanes is interrupted by a honking Range Rover behind him.

This then develops into a moderately exciting action scene as the pair pull up at a crossroads and Orrin – for it is he – smirks at Leo from the opposing drivers seat. They then set off again and a (fairly) high speed chase ensues, with the incidental music being set to “exciting”. All the clichés you’d expect to see are present and correct – a lorry blocking the road (check), a rural type observing proceedings with bucolic indifference (check).

This brief game of chicken only serves to splatter Leo’s car with mud. “Orrin Bloody Hudson” he mutters. Although it’s slightly hard to reconcile this new, ultra-cocky Orrin to the more pliant man we’ve previously seen, it’s not totally unbelievable. A few years back he was something of a blank canvas who seemed to be easily manipulated by his father. Today we could be seeing the result of that manipulation.
Leo loses several credibility points for listening to Chris De Burgh on his car stereo, but at least it was the slightly rocky Don’t Pay The Ferryman rather than The Lady In Red.

Ken doesn’t change. Vicki, dressed in a tight skirt, is on the hunt for a file. Ken, delighted at eyeing up her shapely form, is keen to suggest that the file may be in various places (which are all locations designed to make her stretch just a little bit more).

Although Jack was initially sceptical of Vanessa’s suggestion that they should assemble a photofile of the Mermaid Yard, now he’s warming to the idea. He confides to Tom that he could have been a male model! Lovely stuff, as is Jack’s continuing laissez faire attitude to the Mermaid – he’d much sooner be swanning off, buying flowers, than be stuck at the yard worrying about boats. Tom, facing an ever mounting list of problems, isn’t too chuffed at this, but surprisingly he doesn’t protest too much.

Fair to say that Jan and James aren’t getting along (he’s annoyed that she’s been rifling through his private papers – although it was an accident). Jan’s astonished to discover that James was a designer, but his one and only collection was savaged by the critics and now he’s given up on the possibility of ever designing again. Jan thinks his designs are wonderful (although since all the critics disagreed, this casts some doubt on her judgement).

Interesting that Vanessa’s living room was shot on film and on location rather than at the studio. It’s unusual, but possibly it was intended as a once off location – hence it would have been cheaper to shoot it this way, rather than go to the expense of creating a studio set. But it works out for the best in a visual sense, as their fireside chat – Jack musing over Charles and Avril – looks very good on film.

Vanessa is keen for Jack to spend the night but he – due to an early start tomorrow – isn’t interested. Or is it more to do with his commitment issues? Even though he treated his late wife abominably, he still shows a tremendous degree of loyalty towards her.

This episode confirms for the first time that Vanessa’s house is next door to Relton. Makes sense in one way, since Relton had previously been in Vanessa’s family (at one point it looked as if she might have inherited it). Although given this, it seems slightly odd that she’d decide to pitch up so close and run the risk of stirring up bitter memories.

Polly had arranged a dinner with her, Gerald, Abby and Orrin but Abby throws a spoke into this by deciding to go out with Leo instead. But Polly doesn’t give up easily, so she and Orrin hotfoot it to the restaurant where Abby and Leo are eating (easy to do remember, Tarrant’s not overflowing with restaurants). There then follows a tense scene where Orrin tells Leo to butt out as “this is none of your business”. But Leo takes charge, leaving Orrin frustrated.

There are plenty of late night heart to hearts in this episode. Jack, after leaving Vanessa, visits Avril at Relton whilst Polly and Gerald have a straightforward conversation for the first time in a long while. Polly’s insistent on returning to America and Sir Edward (but is her relationship with him purely business?) and would like Gerald to join her. He doesn’t wish to do so, which pretty much brings their tottering relationship to an end.

Leo and Jan also have a late night chit chat, but theirs is brief and to the point. She does ask about Abby, which for Jan (often self obsessed) is a point in her favour, but the scene’s much more about Leo declaring that whilst James’ designs might not have been fashionable fifteen years ago, they could be now. This triggers off a lightbulb moment in Jan (or possibly a poundsign moment!) as she mulls the concept over. It’s another good example of Leo’s perceptive nature, although it’s slightly hard to believe that a bunch of designs laughed at in 1974 would be a hit in 1989. Still, stranger things have happened.

The next day, Avril and Tom have a heart to heart about Jack and Vanessa. They’re clearly so engrossed that they don’t notice Jack lurking by the door.

After acting incredibly arrogantly for the last few episodes, Orrin’s now in a conciliatory mood – asking Abby to come home for William’s sake. But it’s more for the sake of his political career of course. And then things liven up nicely when Orrin and Leo plunge into the dock. In a way, this is a re-enactment of Leo and Abby from the start of the first series – only this time, Leo’s rescuing Orrin from the water rather than Abby.

Everything really kicks off when Abby jumps into a small boat and rows across to them. All the time this has been happening nobody else seems to have noticed (well that’s not strictly true, people do point fingers and talk into walkie-talkies, but that’s about all they do).

We close on a rather decent cliffhanger as a very damp Leo and Abby confront each other over Orrin’s water filled and insensible body. “He’ll live” mutters Leo with the minimum of concern. Leo’s much more concerned about the fact that he didn’t hear Abby’s response to Orrin’s offer that they should try again as a family ….

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