Angels – Walkabout (29th June 1976)

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Paula Milne’s Walkabout wastes no time in repositioning Maureen as both judgemental and close-minded.  In the first scene, which sees Pat tossing a few pennies towards a street busker (as she does every day), the division between Maureen and her closest friend is marked.  Despite previously being depicted as an open and embracing person, Maureen has now morphed into a much harsher character (for example, telling Pat that people living on the streets have made their own choice).

The new Maureen is discussed by Pat and Jo in a later scene. Pat is of the opinion that her friend has now become the perfect nurse (which isn’t a compliment – Pat contending that her responses to the patients are now mechanical rather than honest).

The reason for this set-up becomes obvious when we observe Maureen spending the majority of the episode shadowing community health nurse June Morris (Miriam Margolyes).  June is everything that Maureen isn’t – a freewheeling, impulsive person who thrives outside of the regimented hospital set-up (describing it as an isolating cocoon).

In the wide world there’s no doctor or senior nurse to turn to, meaning that the community nurse has to operate autonomously – June revels in this, but looks as if it’ll come harder to Maureen. June then explains that the patient/nurse dynamic is totally different when making a home visit – in hospital the patients are rather dependent whilst at home they’re in their own environment and therefore more confident.

Maureen, continuing to be written in a somewhat negative light, wonders why they simply aren’t all shipped off into care homes. This is a somewhat unfeeling attitude and is the type of comment that later causes Pat, in a moment of anger, to label her a bigot.

The first notable patient on June’s round is Mrs Faulkener (Natalie Kent).  Her health may be failing but she’s still gloriously combative.  As June gives her a bath, Mrs Faulkener reflects on old age and the poor quality of presents she receives. “That’s what happens when you’re older, people think all you want is lavender, talcum powder and manicure sets”.

Mind you, she has had an impressive present recently – a plant which is currently taking pride of place in the bathroom. A gift from her son, who otherwise apparently rarely seems to visit, Mrs Faulkener has elected to coat the leaves in nail varnish. When an appalled Maureen tells her that this will cause the plant to die, the old lady counters with the observation that at least it’ll look nice for a while. This is impeccable logic.

The lion’s share of the episode revolves around today’s major guest star, Maurice Denham (as Jack Knight). A former academic and a current alcoholic, Jack is gifted several well-written monologues by Milne as well as numerous other sharp lines. Here, he’s reflecting on the difference between his imaginary picture of nurses and what he actually discovered when he spent some time at St Angela’s.

On the one hand, the Florence Nightingale variety – a silent gowned figure gliding in and out of a dimly-lit ward, bearing a lamp to symbolise the virtue of her calling. And then there’s the other sort – the type depicted in low-budget comedy films with skirts up their backsides and a knowledge of the male anatomy gained through practical research, rather in the classroom.

But what did I find in reality? Heavy-legged girls, white with ferocious vocation, or off-hand creatures with one eye on the clock and the other on their unfortunate patient’s grapes.

Maureen, left alone with him for a while, crosses verbal swords with the combative Jack. No doubt by the end of their time together, as she witnesses Jack in all his many guises (from articulate to broken), she’s learnt something of value.  Denham is as good as you’d expect whilst Erin Geraghty more than holds her own.  The sight of a subdued Maureen, returning to the hospital to join the others in wishing a safe passage to Sita (who’s heading off to India), shows us that some of her dogmatic views have taken a knock.

This is the point of the story of course and whilst it could have come across as a little contrived, the fact that Denham was given so much material (and delivered it so well) proves to be a major plus.  And it was pleasing to close series two with a story centered around Maureen, a character who tended to be sidelined during most of this run.

Building on the groundwork of the first series, Angels continued to impress during this second series. That it’s not better appreciated is a shame, as the fusion of actors, writers and directors certainly produced something rather special. Maybe one day Simply will relent and release series three on DVD ….

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Angels – Celebration (22nd June 1976)

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Shirley amongst her psychiatric patients – who has the problems? (Radio Times Listing)

A P.J. Hammond script set in a psychiatric unit? This probably isn’t going to be average then ….

It’s worth remembering that Angels was a pre-watershed series (this one went out at 8.10 pm). There’s nothing graphically violent about the episode, but the elliptical conversations, allied to a feeling that something bad could happen at any moment, makes for an uncomfortable – if bracing – fifty minutes.

An initial group therapy scene with Shirley and a collection of disparate patients sets the tone.  Over the course of the episode they’re all allowed at least one moment which illuminates their character, but to begin with their interplay is so fractured that – as Hammond intended no doubt – the viewer is left slightly confused and breathless.

Familiar actors, such as Alan Lake and Joseph Brady, tend to catch the eye first.  Lake (as Tony) plays to type as an individual who can change from charming to threatening at the drop of a hat.  His antipathy towards Shirley (as someone who’s been institutionalised all his life, he believes that he’s better placed than her to pass judgement on his fellow patients) is a theme that’s teased out as the episode progresses.  Given Lake’s life and death, it’s very easy to wonder about which facets of Tony’s character were close to his own.

Joseph Brady (Jock) doesn’t have a great deal of dialogue but the sight of the perpetually rocking Jock, softly babbling away to himself, helps to deepen the already building sense of unease.  As does Arnold (Jack Chissick), who is plagued by murder thoughts and has now taken to jotting them down in a book whenever a new one arrives.  That he immediately reaches for his book after seeing Jo for the first time is an interesting little moment.

Angels was never averse to bleak stories, but most episodes with dark themes would also drop in another plot with a lighter tone.  There’s not a great deal of respite in Celebration, although the wrong-footing ending (we’re primed to expect a crisis which doesn’t occur) does at least enable the story to conclude with a sliver of hope.

There is humour in the episode, although it’s of a rather dark nature.  Jo and Pat, corralled into helping Shirley organise a party for one of the patients, stumble into the room to find everybody dressed in party hats but sitting completely immobile.  It’s both comic and tragic, a feeling which is heightened when the two girls – neither of whom were terribly keen to attend – are forced to make excruciating small talk.

Shirley seems quite at home in the unit and treats the patients in a logical and rigorous manner.  Given that they can often act in deeply illogical ways this seems to be a risky policy.  Her style is commented upon by two people – first an Auxiliary nurse (Anne Ridler) and then Dr Fraser (Willie Jonah).

Both discussions are illuminating, especially the one with Dr Fraser. “We can’t just ask people,where does it hurt? The kind of wounds we’re looking for, they don’t show up on x-rays”. He then goes on to say that 90 percent of the work has to be done by the patients themselves with the remainder (“you and me and ECT and pills and Christian names and pots of paint and pictures”) supplied by the hospital staff

It’s slightly strange to see Pat and Jo teamed up (rather than one of the more usual combinations of Pat and Maureen or Jo and Sandra).  Pat seems to be acting slightly out of character (not unusual for a Hammond script, which often retooled the thoughts and views of the regulars) as she’s much more negative about Shirley’s work with the “loonies” than you might have expected.

It’s not totally out of character for her though and whilst she’s not central today, Pat is still gifted some fascinating moments – for example, the fact she so vehemently draws attention to her own complete normalness. Does the lady protest too much?

The episode is dotted with many items of interest, like George (George Waring) and Dianne (Mitzi Rogers).  Both day patients, they seem a good deal more “normal” than the others, although George’s cheerful and uncomplaining façade is brutally picked apart by Dianne.  But maybe this will prove to be beneficial for him in the long run – knocked to pieces so he can be rebuilt.

David Maloney’s direction is as assured as ever. There’s no particularly fancy shots, but in scenes – such as group therapy – where there’s around ten people present (and all contributing) it’s vital to be able to cut quickly and at the right time, otherwise you’re liable to lose a vital reaction shot.

Celebration is typical P.J. Hammond and therefore unmissable.

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Angels – Coming To Terms (15th June 1976)

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Having shared equal screentime in the previous episode, it’s a slight shame that Pat and Maureen have now reverted to type – Pat driving the main storyline with Maureen relegated to the role of observer and confidant.

Coming To Terms wastes no time in establishing the fact that Pat has bonded with a patient called Mrs Shepherd (Kathleen Byron).  For example, the way that Pat refers to her as “Shep”.  Their early scenes have a vague sense of foreboding – despite Pat’s bright and bubbly attitude, the seeds are already being sown about Mrs Shepherd’s terminal condition.

Mrs Shepherd is concerned how her son (referred to, but never seen) will react when he discovers that his mother and father never married. Pat’s decision to try and arrange a civil ceremony in the hospital then becomes the focal point of the episode.  There are various logistical hurdles to overcome as well as the thorny question of gaining the consent of Mr Shepherd (John Dearth).

Dearth only appears in a couple of scenes, but his imposing presence – both physically and vocally – creates an instant impression.  In his later career Dearth was cast on several occasions by Michael E. Briant (who directed this episode).

Rumours about Dearth’s issues with alcohol have made the rounds for decades and it’s hard not to think of that when watching his turn here. He does slur his words a little, but that sort of fits with Mr Shepherd’s character – who, after all, has just received the devastating news that his common-law wife is dying.

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Kathleen Byron also doesn’t have that many lines, but she makes the most of every moment.  A heavyweight actress (first in films, most notably Black Narcissus, and then later in a slew of television programmes) she gives Mrs Shepherd a sense of dignity and weary resignation. Although there are also moments of black despair and hopelessness.

By speaking to a social worker,  Pat kickstarts a chain of events which leads to an angry Mr Shepherd venting his frustration at the medical team.  This is a theme familiar from several previous episodes, just how involved should the nurses become with the patients? Other times it’s been more cloudy, but here there’s a definite feeling that Pat meddled for the good of all.

So this part of the story has a happy ending of sorts, with Mr Shepherd reconciled and happy to take part in the ceremony.  The wedding manages to close the episode on a positive note despite Mrs Shepherd’s terminal condition (which is an interesting trick).

Elsewhere, the other main plotline of Coming To Terms feels like it’s recycling a large chunk of the series one episode Case History. Both featured two male patients – one unfriendly (both to his fellow patients and the nurses) and the other voluble and somewhat irritating.

Today, the studious Keith Aldiss (Edward Wilson) is driven to distraction by a cheery and down-to-earth Northerner called Mr Kilshaw (Paul Luty).  Both were familiar faces (Wilson primarily from Rockcliffe’s Babies and Luty from All Creatures Great and Small and a host of other guest roles).  Mr Kilshaw’s good natured banter (telling Aldiss with grim enjoyment that he’s probably going to be sliced up!) helps to lighten the tone of an otherwise fairly sombre instalment.

The way they interact with Jo and Sita is the other reason why they’re present.  Both nurses clash with Aldiss, but whilst Jo is able to shrug it off, Sita reacts with anger.  As Sita’s been rather neglected recently, this episode goes some way to redressing the balance. She’s fretting about her upcoming exams and so hasn’t been eating or sleeping properly, which is beginning to impact her work on the wards.

It might have been nice to sow the seeds of this across a few episodes, as it all feels a little sudden (although it’s possible this might explain why she was so snippy at the start of series two).  Jo being temporarily put in charge of the ward causes a little friction between them, compounded after Sita makes an elementary blunder when treating Mr Kilshaw.

This is all good dramatic stuff for both Sita and Jo, although with Mrs Shepherd’s story dominating it feels a little rushed.

Apart from a brief film insert, Coming To Terms is studio-bound.  But Michael E. Briant keeps the interest up with a series of unusual shots.  He clearly liked shooting from behind the beds – this creates a bar-like, prison feel.

Easily the most notable sequence occurs when a stressed Pat staggers over to the rest room, only to find no succour there.  Thanks to an ever-increasing series of quick cuts (from one chattering nurse to another, over to the blaring television and then back to Pat) a nightmarish vision is deftly created.

Another very solid episode, Coming To Terms maintains the high standard of the second series.

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Angels – Home Sweet Home (8th June 1976)

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Holiday time for Maureen and Patricia. A whole week to see family, friends, boyfriends again. A week of discovery … (Radio Times Listing)

Having previously written the first series episode Off Duty, also a non-hospital story, Pat Hooker was clearly the ideal fit for this one.  Taking into account all we’ve learnt this year about Pat’s unhappy life with her parents, Home Sweet Home is an obviously ironic statement.

it also proves to be so for Maureen, although her week isn’t quite so bad. Maureen’s homecoming is however an excellent vehicle for Erin Geraghty, whose character this year has somewhat been shunted down the pecking order (Shirley, Pat and Sandra have been the three with the most interesting storylines so far).

Maureen’s arrival at the family farmhouse, set in the middle of the bucolic Irish countryside, has a faint air of tension due to the fact that there’s nobody home to meet her.  This feeling of unease is developed when Maureen’s youngest brother, Shaun (Gabriel Kelly), does make an appearance but shies away from her welcoming greeting.  That he doesn’t seem to recognise her is a signifier that she’s been away for a while and also that integrating back into the previously tight family unit might not be entirely straightforward.

Kate (Pauline Quirke) is equally unwelcoming, although it transpires that there’s several different reasons for this. Today’s episode is a rare opportunity for Erin Geraghty to use her comic skills – for example, I love Maureen’s delighted first sighting of her younger sister (“Kate!”) which quickly develops into a critical quizzing. “What in god’s name have you done to your hair?”. It may not sound much written down, but it’s a nicely played comedy moment.

Later, when all the family are gathered around the table, there’s another illustration of Maureen’s growing estrangement from her family after she discusses the latest television programmes (Maureen’s mother mistakenly believing that Michael Crawford is a friend of hers, rather than a top television star).  This scene also confirms that just about everybody in the seventies could be called upon to do a Frank Spencer impression, although Maureen’s has to be one of the worst.

The main dramatic meat of Maureen’s storyline begins when Michael Doyle (Aiden Murphy) pops his head round the farmhouse door.  A smooth-talking Irish caricature, they quickly pick up where they left off (presumably they’d been “walking out” before Maureen left for London).  Although it’s not confirmed until the end, the audience no doubt would have quickly twigged that Michael had turned his attentions towards Kate during Maureen’s absence (which explains some of Kate’s distant feelings towards her sister).

Aiden Murphy doesn’t quite convince – in an episode that feels very theatrical anyway, he’s easily the stagiest performer. But at least he’s considerably better here than he was as Hippias in the Doctor Who story The Time Monster.

Although Maureen has sometimes been portrayed as a little naïve, it’s pleasing to see that today she doesn’t fall for Michael’s spiel (I like the way she recoils when his hands begin to explore previously unchartered territory).  “Well you haven’t been learning technique like that at agricultural college” is another glorious line from Hooker.

Interspersed with Maureen’s travails, Pat is having an equally dramatic time of it with her family.  To begin with, the viewer is called upon to parse the meaning behind the outwardly polite, but obviously brittle, three way dialogue between Pat and her mother, Rose (Georgine Anderson), and father, Lawrence (Geoffrey Palmer).

Big reveals are slowly bubbling to the surface, but they drip out a bit at a time (frustrating for Pat, but dramatically satisfying for the viewer).  First we learn that Pat’s mother is leaving her father, although the reason is initially unclear. Both deny that there’s anybody else involved (although we later learn that Lawrence was previously seeing someone).

Rose doesn’t seem to be a well woman. At times somewhat disconnected from reality (telling Pat the same thing several times) as a student nurse possibly Pat should have picked up on these danger signals.  The fact that later, at a stifling party, she labels her mother as “crazy” is a tad unfortunate in retrospect ….

Rose’s dream (of going to London and completing her training to join the legal profession) is later offhandedly dismissed as a fantasy by Lawrence.  This is after Rose has taken an overdose at the party (following Pat’s “crazy” comment).  Incidentally, the off-screen overdose is played in such an understated way that for a moment it wasn’t clear to me whether Rose had left the house in a fit of pique or had overdosed.

It’s interesting how Rose’s delicate mental state (this isn’t the first time she’s attempted suicide, although Lawrence believes the others weren’t serious) doesn’t really seem to engender any more sympathy towards her.  Pat is still very much a daddy’s girl, although he’s hardly that admirable a character. The way he dangles a foreign holiday in front of her (with the promise that he’ll then find her a job more suitable than nursing) is an example of the controlling nature which lurks beneath his affable surface.

There’s plenty to chew on throughout Home, Sweet, Home. For example, Pat’s distant conversation with an old friend, which shows how little they now have in common.  It seems to be that both Pat and Maureen have changed and developed considerably since leaving home – and only because they have left their old lives behind.

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Angels – Facing Up (25th May 1976)

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Three very different stories relating to pregnancy unfold during the fifty minutes of Facing Up. The first features Ann Clark (Patricia Hassell) who is initially regarded with a jaundiced eye by Pat.  Maybe it was early in the morning, but Pat’s bedside manner seems decidedly rough and ready. When the slightly drippy Ann confesses that she doesn’t have a towel, Pat (through gritted teeth) tells her that she can probably find one.

Later, when a concerned Maureen discusses Ann’s case with Pat, Ms Rutherford doesn’t seem too bothered about the news that Ann could lose her baby – surely it’s easy enough to get another one ….

Mind you, all of the doctors and nurses are a little offhand with Ann.  Mainly they spend their time telling her not to worry, which only tends to make her worry even more.  Marc Zuber, as a breezily unconcerned doctor, for example.

At first, it’s hard to see the relevance of a later scene – Pat enjoying a slap up meal with her Uncle James (Frederick Jaeger) – but things quickly begin to make sense as pregnancy story number two is developed.  Pat is shocked to discover that both her parents never really wanted children (although Uncle James is quick to back-peddle a bit as he tells her that her father loves her now). Derek Martinus, as he’s done before, favours ever-tighter close ups of both Jaeger and Fullerton as the drama unfolds.

This scene impacts the reminder of the episode as Pat, ruminating bitterly over the fact that she was an unwanted child, then has to go back to the hospital and care for Ann, who wants a baby more than anything else in the world.  Her husband, Tom (Conrad Asquith), might be as equally drippy as she is, but there’s no doubting the love he has for her (or the fact that he’s equally as committed to their baby).

When Ann breaks down in tears, it’s an interesting touch that Pat freezes for a second before swiftly crossing over to comfort her.  From this point Pat’s earlier tension is erased and the pair bond.  Although there’s been some doubt throughout the episode about whether the baby will survive, there’s also been a feelgood vibe about this part of the story – so it’s not too surprising that everything goes well and Mr and Mrs Clark take charge of a healthy – albeit small – boy.

The scenes of Ann giving birth are, as you’d expect for a pre-watershed series, not very explicit but are still effective (Ann’s blurry POV reaction is especially well done). Derek Martinus really only blots his copybook when we quickly switch to stock film several times in order to show the child. Having a freshly born baby in the studio would have been very tricky of course, but this moment doesn’t convince at all.

Pregnancy story number three concerns Sandra, who’s out and about and developing her occupational heath skills.  Attached to a trading estate covering several factories, this gives her plenty of opportunity to interact with a wide range of people.  Everything seems a little too jolly and tidy to begin with though – as a female in a predominately male factory environment you’d have expected her to be on the receiving end of some hefty dollops of sexism.  But no, everyone’s as nice as pie ….

Although one worker (the distinctive Declan Mulholland) initially bristles at the way Sandra chides him about the strain he’s putting on his back, he quickly realises that she’s talking sense and begins to lift the boxes just like she suggests. Another worker (Ken Kitson) is quick to pop by with an offer of a cup of tea whilst Denis Swainson (John Bardon) seems equally as affable.

But there’s a sting in Swainson’s tale which is connected to his daughter, Barbara (Vanessa Paine).  Barbara is sixteen years old and devastated to be told by Sandra that she’s pregnant.

Vulnerable and worried, Barbara is insistent that her father can’t be told. But when Sandra unwisely drops some broad hints to Mr Swainson, it results in a black eye for Barbara (who is also kicked out of the family home).  I find it interesting that this storyline veers off in a rather unexpected way.  We seem to have been set up for another happy ending – Barbara and her father coming together thanks to Sandra’s intervention – but this is brutally snatched away in an instant.

The episode also deliberately doesn’t follow this story to its natural conclusion. Mr Swainson hits Barbara off-screen (and doesn’t appear again after the scene he shares with Sandra).  It’s made painfully clear to Sandra that she had no cause to meddle in the case and that her rash action has only made a bad situation much worse.

Angels always favoured storytelling from the nurses point of view. It would switch viewpoints as and when required, but since Sandra is prevented from speaking to Mr Swainson again it makes sense for the viewers to also be denied the opportunity to see him.

The three separate storylines – Ann, Pat and Barbara – are all decent enough when taken in isolation, but the way they meld into each other is the episode’s main strength.

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Angels – Weekend (11th May 1976)

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Three separate plotlines run throughout Weekend. Pat and Maureen (but especially Pat) are tired of living in at the hospital and so decide to go flat hunting, Miss Windrup makes a new friend whom she invites around for tea and Jo takes decisive action in order to convince Mr Paton (Duncan Lamont) that he should visit his hospital-bound sister.

The Pat/Maureen relationship has always seemed a slightly uneasy one, given their totally different backgrounds and outlooks.  Pat’s privileged and pampered life prior to becoming a nurse is touched upon during the scene where she’s ticked off about the untidy state of her room.  Being told that the cleaners are giving it a wide berth until it’s more presentable clearly doesn’t please her – the notion of Pat tidying up her own mess a little bit is plainly anathema to the girl (surely that’s what the cleaners are employed for).

This is the sort of petty rule which makes her very keen to find her own space.  The placid Maureen is perfectly content with her lot, but (as always) is happy to go along with her friend.  At this point the Pat/Maureen dynamic is operating along previously defined lines (Pat dominant, Maureen submissive) although later on the roles are switched around somewhat.

Maureen, her puritanical Irish upbringing brought to the fore, is shocked to discover that one potential flat share would see them thrown together with three men.  Pat’s quite unruffled (and indeed pleasantly curious) about this but Maureen dismisses the notion straight away. What would her mammy say? This scene might be played for laughs but it still helps to reiterate that they live in very different worlds.

The comic tone continues when they meet a representative (Carolyn Hudson) from the gloriously named ‘Fix A Pad’.  Pat and Maureen are now finding it difficult to agree on anything – for example, Pat wants to live far away from the hospital whilst Maureen would prefer to be close. And when Pat mentions that she’d like two bedrooms, Maureen is surprised since she’d assumed they’d be sharing.  Pat reacts to this with scorn (“what happens to my love life?”). Mind you, Maureen does bat this back quite effectively with “what love life?”

Following this awkward meeting, Pat decides that “the only thing we really had in common was that we were new together” and the pair then go their seperate ways. But although it looks for a while as if their friendship has indeed come to an end, it’s not too surprising to learn that by the end of the episode they’re pals once again. They may have many different interests but Pat comes to realise (thanks to a third party) that this is precisely why their friendship works. Maureen’s opinion on this goes unrecorded (which does tend to reinforce the notion that she’s very much the junior partner here).

It’s interesting how Miss Windrup manages to laser in on Nora Eden (Nancie Jackson). It’s true that she was sitting by herself in the canteen, but it does imply that Miss Windrup has a sixth sense which allows her to sniff out lonely souls like herself.  Of a similar age to Miss Windrup, Nora has come back into medical teaching after her offspring moved abroad.

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Their initial conversation is quite revealing, not least for the way in which it restates the hollowness of Miss Windrup’s existence away from the hospital.  She may bravely agree that her job keeps her busy and fulfilled, but we’re still left with the sense that she really doesn’t have much of a life (later she admits this herself).  Her air of sadness and melancholy is reinforced when we see her out shopping, picking up some choice delicacies for her visitor.  These establishing scenes leave us with a question – will there be a sting in the tale when Miss Windrup and Nora take afternoon tea?

The answer to that is yes, but it’s a fairly mild one. Nora doesn’t appear at the appointed time, leaving a crestfallen Miss Windrup to clear away the uneaten food. But there’s recompense the next day when Nora shows up with profuse apologies for having missed the date.  We then see a pathetically eager Miss Windrup invite her in for a cup of coffee and another heart-to-heart.

As for Jo’s plotline, Elsie Clegg (Maggie Flint) isn’t seriously ill but she becomes increasingly depressed about the fact that her brother never visits her.  He’s not too far away, but claims – via a letter – that he simply can’t spare the time to pop in.

This excuse isn’t good enough for Jo and she decides to pay him a visit.  Everybody else – Sita, Sandra – thinks this is a bad idea, but she’s adamant.  After a bit of a lull, this plotline gives Julie Dawn Cole something to get her teeth into.  She plays Jo’s apprehension (when she’s invited into Mr Paton’s house) very nicely.  Of course, having Duncan Lamont in the role of Len Paton doesn’t hurt.  Always the most solid of actors, the first scene between Jo and Len is quite absorbing.  A mystery is also established here.  Is Len really too busy to visit the hospital or is there another reason why he can’t bring himself to see his sister?

The knife is twisted just a little more after he finally makes an appearance at St Angela’s, only to promptly vanish before seeing Elsie (leaving behind a pot-plant flower as the only proof that he’d been there at all).  Elsie’s already burst into tears several times and when she does so again (after her puppy-like joy at learning that Len has finally come to visit her is dashed) it feels rather affecting.  Jo continues to dig away at this puzzle, despite the fact that it’s really nothing to do with her (it’s true that visiting Len late at night to demand answers does feel somewhat unwise).

The resolution to this mystery is an excellent showcase for Lamont and is the dramatic highpoint of an episode that overall still feels quite low-key. But possibly Weekend isn’t the worse for that, as even in a hospital it can’t always be a matter of life and death.

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Angels – Day Hospital (4th May 1976)

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The fact that Day Hospital was shot on OB VT in real locations helps to give the episode a totally different feel to what we’ve seen before.  As good as the studio sets always were, there’s just something more immersive and satisfying about the fact that you can look out of a window and see real life outside.

Set in a geriatric ward and attached day care unit, the episode manages to strike a good balance as it’s neither too maudlin (although there’s bleakness towards the end) or too superficial.  Shirley had mentioned previously that the infirm and elderly are similar in many ways to children – today it’s Ailsa (Sylvia Coleridge) who fits that description the closest.

If you wanted someone to play an eccentric, then you couldn’t really do better than Coleridge. Petulant and deeply irritating at times, Ailsa exists in part to try Shirley’s patience through a series of wheezes (smashing plates, pouring water from a vase onto the floor to try and fool Shirley into believing that one of the other patients has wet themselves, etc).  But she’s also given a few moments of pain and anguish, which enables the viewer to see the more complex person hiding beneath the dotty surface.

Dodi (Aimée Delamain) and Annie (Irene Handl) enjoy the best of the script though. Dodi is initially presented as an autocratic and imposing individual.  Living alone (albeit with nursing support) in a big house, she views the prospect of making regular trips to the day hospital with dismay and disdain.  But after one visit she’s quite won over.

Annie is a salt of the earth, speak as you find, type of person.  A hospital regular, along with Ailsa (whom she has a love/hate relationship with), she also finds the idea of going to the day hospital daunting (although at least she only has to travel down the corridor to reach it). Like Dodi though, she becomes a firm fan very quickly.

At first, Dodi seems to be a rather broadly drawn character, but as the episode wears on she’s shaded in very effectively.  The scene with Dodi and Annie in the day centre is beautifully played by both Delamain and Handl.  Dodi’s lonely, spinsterish existence, allied to the early deaths of her brothers (due to WW1 and its aftermath), is teased out in a heartbreaking way. Derek Martinus, as he does elsewhere, elects for close-ups during these dramatic moments, which is a simple but effective touch.

Even though Annie’s tale is also shot through with suffering (she lay undiscovered in her house for three days after suffering a stroke) there’s something about Handl’s delivery of these lines which still manages to create a sense of warmth.  No doubt residual affection from her long comic career is playing a part here.

With the guest actors featured heavily, the regulars are slightly pushed into the background, but those featured – Shirley, Maureen, Pat – still benefit from some decent character development throughout Susan Pleat’s script.  After suffering run-ins with both Ailsa and Annie, Shirley has to work hard to retain her self control (even more so after another patient suffers a broken leg and Shirley finds herself accused of negligence by her relatives).

Shirley’s slightly stunted personal development may be the reason why she finds all one-on-one interactions to be somewhat trying, although nobody could blame her for getting a little irritated with either Annie or (especially) Ailsa.  But by the end of the episode she’s definitely gone through something of a learning curve, leaving us with the impression that piece by piece she’s becoming more of a rounded person.

Although Shirley is having a trying time in the ward, Maureen (working in the day unit) appears to be having a much easier experience.  Maybe this is just down to the luck of the draw, or possibly Maureen’s more placid nature just fits in well with the atmosphere of the place.

Pat’s place in this story is very interesting.  She’s someone who we haven’t really explored in any great depth for a while, which makes this episode a very welcome one.  With Pat’s mother being a friend of Dodi, Pat is instantly drawn to her – she may be occasionally tetchy, but Dodi also has the aura of a wise sage.

Pat finds herself telling Dodi things – about her strained relationship with her mother and her doubts about nursing as a vocation – which she claims she’s never shared with her friends.  Given how close Pat and Maureen seem to be, this is a little surprising, but on reflection maybe not.  It’s a nice character beat either way though, as it helps to show that the outwardly confident Pat is just as riddled with insecurities as, say, the socially awkward Shirley.

Dodi’s death at the end of the episode therefore comes as a jarring blow, not only to the audience (who no doubt would have grown to appreciate her as the story wore on) but also to Pat, who tells Maureen that she’s lost her new-found confidant.  This seems to be a slightly selfish point of view, but it also feels quite truthful. Pat’s final visit to Dodi’s house – now covered in dustsheets and empty of all life – is nicely played, especially the moment when she picks up the small bell that Dodi was fond of ringing whenever she required attention.

The fact that Dodi died in a late-night fall down the stairs is a bleakly ironic twist.  Previously pretty much bed-bound, the strong inference is that her new-found confidence after attending the day hospital was a contributory factor in her death.  Maureen is quick to scotch Pat’s suggestion, but this lingering notion is left hanging in the air.

It’s pleasing to know that we’ll encounter Ailsa and Annie in another episode shortly.  Thanks to the nuanced performances of all three senior actresses, Day Hospital is a thought-provoking and memorable episode.

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Angels – Round The Clock (6th April 1976)

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The opening episode of series two, Round The Clock reintroduces us to all the S1 regulars quickly and effectively.  Within the first few minutes we see Pat and Maureen preparing for another working day (with Maureen also looking forward to a party in the evening), the effervescent Jo freewheeling down the corridor, poor Shirley enjoying a solitary lunchtime drink and Sita dishing out a dollop of sympathy to Mrs Andrews (Norma Andrews).

As the episode progresses, various threads are developed although two – Sita/Mrs Andrews and Shirley – dominate.  From her first scene, there’s a tense brittleness to Mrs Andrews, which is understandable after we learn that her young son, Ian (Stefan Gates), has been rushed to hospital with suspected meningitis.  Red-eyed and frantic with worry, she demands to have all the facts as quickly as possible.  But Sita prefers to be quite non-committal with her comments.

The unfortunate upshot is that Ian initially seems to be making a recovery, but this is only a temporary respite as he then takes a turn for the worse.  One of the interesting aspects of Round The Clock is observing which Angels have changed from series one.  Sita certainly seems to be a little different from the passive character she was then – when confronted about her behaviour, she remains fairly unrepentant (although her colleagues, such as Pat, are quick to pass unfavourable judgement out of her earshot).

It’s an interesting talking point – was Sita protecting Mrs Andrews by not telling her everything or simply making her agony (when she finally learnt the truth about Ian’s condition) even more painful?  There’s no definite answer to this, and Adele Rose’s script – to its credit – doesn’t plump for either side. Indeed, later on Mrs Andrews decides that Sita wasn’t at fault anyway, so this dramatic flashpoint is resolved in a low-key manner.

Mrs Andrews’ scenes in the children’s ward are quite haunting. Although we see the odd jolly child (with nothing worse than a broken leg) there’s something quite melancholy about this area, despite the bright posters and collection of toys. This plotline has no closure – although we’re told that most children make a full recovery, there’s the possibility that Ian may not.

Elsewhere, Shirley is working on a busy female ward.  Some of the patients, such as Mrs McCartney (Peggy Aitchison) are simply there for a spot of colour (she likes to scoff chocolates and call everyone “ducks”).  Mrs Fitch (June Brown) is also quite peripheral, but the way she clashes with Shirley is used to highlight the fact that Staff Nurse Brent isn’t her normal, efficient self.

Brown plays to type as a complaining sort (complete with her trademark droning voice) whilst it’s amusing that Mr Fitch (Alec Linstead) also has a similar tone. Being attacked by them on both sides means it’s not surprising that Shirley eventually loses her patience. Mild though her outburst is, this moment of crisis allows Sister Young to step in and have a heart to heart with her.

If Sita has changed since series one, then at this point it doesn’t appear there’s been any progress with Shirley.  In the pub she was as isolated as ever, sitting by herself whilst the rest of the world seemed to having a much better time.  She confesses to Sister Young that she still has no social life and no friends (although she does at least share a table in the canteen with Jo and Sita without the other two recoiling, so there’s been some progress there).

Shirley’s despair seeps out of the screen yet again, but there is a positive outcome, professionally at least, as she’s encouraged to take a geriatrics course.  This would seem to be something that most nurses (such as Jo) would avoid, but Shirley is very keen.  We’ll see this theme developed later in the season.

Jo isn’t given a great deal of screentime in this opening episode. Mainly she’s present to serve as a cool counsel for the unusually hot-headed Sita.  As for Pat and Maureen, Maureen’s suddenly become something of a party animal (closing the episode jiving with a George Best lookalike in the pub) whilst the previously flighty Pat has gained a dollop of common sense.

I liked the scene with Pat and an unnamed student nurse in the canteen.  The young nurse confided that she was on the verge of quitting, so Pat – who nearly did the same thing last year – gave her a pep talk.  Amusingly, the young nurse wasn’t at all convinced by Pat’s impassioned speech! That’s a nice touch, which shows that the series wasn’t always content to take the obvious or neat route.

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Angels – Commitment (8th December 1975)

Commitment is split between the action on a female ward and the end of episode prize-giving, where two of our Angels – Ruth and Shirley – are receiving their SRN badges following three long years of study. And as the episode title implies, several of the regulars are considering their futures ….

Today’s ward activity is very bustling, with numerous patients all jostling for position. Chief amongst these is Mrs Ennis (Susan Field), a remarkably cantankerous type. Her highly objectionable personality clashes with Pat’s no-nonsense attitude and it isn’t long before the sparks start to fly in an entertaining fashion.

The chief flashpoint occurs when Mrs Ennis accuses Maureen of stealing her sponge bag. Maureen later finds it, but Mrs Ennis is far from convinced (declaring that Maureen simply had a crisis of confidence and returned it). This is the final straw for Pat who then gives Mrs Ennis both barrels.

Never the diplomat, Pat tells Mrs Ennis that she’s “really the most ungreateful, diabolical old bitch it’s ever been my misfortunate to meet”. Mrs Ennis, understandably, reacts in horror to this – but mainly because she’s been called old!

This one incident is enough to convince Pat that nursing isn’t for her, but the affable and tolerant chief tutor, Mr Farrar (Jeremy Wilkin), is able to talk her back from making any hasty moves. As touched upon before with other guest actors, it’s a pity he didn’t feature on a regular basis. Farrar’s lengthy one-on-one meeting with Pat (albeit broken up with a brief cutaway between Sister Young and Miss Windrup) places Pat in the centre of the action for once.

To begin with, I wondered why Miss Windrup wasn’t the one discussing Pat’s future with her. But the cutaway makes it plain that she continues to have a very low opinion of Pat (although she’s very much in the minority). The clash between tradition and modernity is another episode theme – as you might expect, Miss Windrup favours order and method (a loose cannon like Pat is anathema to her) whilst Mr Farrar is more understanding and therefore able to see that once the rough edges have been rubbed off there might be a more than decent nurse underneath.

If Mrs Ennis exists in the narrative mainly to generate a reason for Pat to question her future, then another patient provides a similar service for Maureen (although in not such a dramatic way). This other encounter makes Maureen consider the possibilities of becoming a home visitor, although as Miss Windrup tells her, she’s got years ahead of her to consider all the possibilities.

The contrast between Maureen (deeply committed to nursing) and Pat (deeply ambivalent) couldn’t be more striking. With Pat still looking unhappy as the episode closes, at this point you might have laid money on the fact that – out of the six – she’d be the one least likely to return for the second series.

With the two youngest Angels both considering their future, what of the older ones? There’s no movement from either Jo and Sita (although Jo is wistfully regretful that she’s yet to receive her SRN badge). Shirley is fully committed – her desire to work a split shift on Christmas Day speaks volumes for the fact that outside of nursing her life remains very undeveloped.

Although Ruth declares that she could earn much more as a secretary, her desire to remain a nurse seems strong. But since Lesley Dunlop decided against returning for the second series, Ruth’s story has come to an end. Was this known at the time the episode was scripted? Possibly not, as things seem very open-ended for her, with no suggestion that she wouldn’t be remaining at St Angela’s.

Sister Hammond (Pamela Duncan) is another who favours tradition (bunting in the prize-giving hall very much appeals to her). However, once she and Miss Windrup have partaken of a few sherries, both are able to turn back the clock and reminisce about their younger, more care-free days. Especially Miss Windrup (with a gobsmacked Jo looking on!).

Tradition continues to be upheld at the prize-giving, with the national anthem played prior to proceedings whilst the arrival of Ruth and Shirley’s parents serves as another character-defining moment. Only Shirley’s mother is present (the absence of her father clearly causes her some hurt) and whilst the pair converse politely, they don’t seem to have an especially warm relationship (although to be fair, Mrs Brent does seem pleased after Shirley receives her badge and certificate). Conversely, Ruth’s parents are both present and correct and are obviously incredibly proud of their daughter’s achievement.

An interesting nugget of trivia (thank you, the 1977 Angels annual) is that Shirley’s mother was played by Clare Clifford’s real mother, Nancy Gower.

With Michael E. Briant throwing in some unusual camera shots, Commitment closes the first series strongly. Coming to this run of episodes fresh, what’s remarkable is just how consistent they’ve been, with only a few minor dips along the way. This bodes well for series two.

Angels – Confrontation (1st December 1975)

An argument between Sister Young (Nadia Catouse) and head porter Harry Jamieson (Bill Owen) quickly escalates into a full-blown crisis after he instructs all the porters to down tools. Ruth, present during the original incident, then finds herself with severely divided loyalties ….

Having briefly appeared in On The Mat, Harry is much more central to this story. The episode opens in his office, which is a treasure trove of trinkets. A model cenotaph on his desk suggests that he had wartime experience (confirmed later on after he mentions Tobruk) whilst a record player is cued up with foreign language lessons. At first it appears that he’s doing a little extra cramming for his holidays, but it’s then explained that due to the variety of nationalities working at the hospital (many of whom can’t speak English) he has to keep abreast of a variety of languages.

He’s clearly popular with the younger nurses – Pat and Maureen pop in to have a brief chat and a sweet – but his relationship with the more senior staff, such as Sister Young, is trickier. Anne Valery’s script develops how the various departments – especially the nurses and porters – can find themselves locked into bitter disputes.

Sister Young is quick to blame the porters when anything goes wrong, whilst Harry can justifiably claim that if the correct procedures aren’t followed then the whole system collapses. His military background (as an NCO?) is put to good use as he efficiently marshals the bewildering number of forms required to keep the hospital running. Possibly old military habits (a disdain for some of his superiors) can be seen in the way he crosses swords with Sister Young. He’s certainly unafraid to speak his mind and stand his ground.

Ruth and Claire were at each other’s throats in P.J Hammond’s Initiation, but we’re back to a more normal relationship today – cordial, but with occasional irritated barbs (Ruth once again referring to her colleague as surly Shirley). The fact they’re both keen to nab the Staff Nurse job on Sister Young’s ward is obviously going to bring them into conflict – although initially this is done in a comic way (both attempting to butter the Sister up by offering her cups of tea or watering her flowers ….)

It’s only when Ruth finds herself having to choose between Sister Young and Harry that the situation turns rather more dramatic. If Ruth doesn’t side with her nursing superior then the path would presuambly be left open for Shirley.

But there seems to be no doubt who was in the right (Harry) with Sister Young admitting in private that her temper often gets the better of her (her blazing confrontation with Harry is an episode highlight). Given this, the fact she still expected Ruth to back her up seems a little unfair. To deepen the complexities, it’s suggested that Sister Young’s recent promotion request was blocked because she stood up for one of her colleagues (this example of her good nature is then used as a lever in order to persuade Ruth to stand with her superior).

Ruth’s strong union links have been stressed before, so despite Sister Young holding the key to her possible promotion, it was always likely she would plump for Harry’s side. But even though she does so in the end, Ruth then bitterly declares that she’s been manipulated for other people’s ends. Harry, like Sister Young, seems to be blameless in this – both are simply hot-headed individuals who weren’t prepared to back down – so maybe the union rep, Tom Goddard (Harry Landis), could be the villain.

But that’s not really the case. Goddard is keen to press for Sister Young to receive an official reprimand (even though this will impact her already shaky promotion prospects) but he sees this as safeguarding their position in future disputes. Goddard certainly isn’t the raging union militant we sometimes see in seventies dramas.

Pat and Maureen are now an integral part of the ward, having quickly settled down from their initial, hesitant steps. Pat’s still a little shaky in some areas, although she gets little sympathy from Sister Young (still smarting from her bruising reprimand).

For the first time, a patient – Mrs White (Rita Webb) – returns for a second episode. There’s a slight mystery here, since something seems to have happened to her husband. We’re never told what precisely, simply that he won’t be home to meet her when she’s discharged. Is he away on work, has he left her or has he died? A strange moment. It’s equally strange that Mrs White is put to work after the porters go on strike. Watching one of the patients scrub the floors (even though it clearly cheers her up) is an oddity.

Although Ruth’s choice is the key part of the episode, Bill Owen’s performance makes it memorable. Like a number of other performers during the first series, it’s a shame his time on Angels was so limited.

Angels – Linda (24th November 1975)

It’s a momentous day for Pat and Maureen as they’re let loose on the wards for the first time. Meanwhile, Staff Nurse Linda Hollis finds that juggling her career and her marriage is becoming increasingly impossible ….

The second script by Deborah Mortimer, it’s also the second (and apparently last) to feature Janina Faye as Linda (possibly she was Mortimer’s creation). Long-term viewers who had already witnessed the first part of her story from episode four will be rewarded here, since the already established theme – her husband’s intolerance towards her career – is considerably developed.

Our first sight of Brian Hollis (Christopher Strauli) isn’t an encouraging one. He’s been forced to entertain their friends at the pub (Linda is working late) and whilst he clearly possesses a light charm, it’s also fairly brittle. These early scenes set the tone – Brian, having resigned from his job in order to study architecture, is reliant on the money Linda brings in but resents both this and the fact that she isn’t always available on tap.

The real flashpoint occurs when Linda agrees to work a split shift, with the result that she won’t be able to accompany Brian to a party. Intriguingly, the possibility is floated that she could have declined (Linda was asked if she’d already made plans) but the implication is that she elected to prioritise the hospital over her husband. If so, was it the right choice? Had Linda declined to work late then possibly somebody else could have done it, but we’ll never know for sure.

It’s hard to sympathise with Brian though, mainly because he’s so whiny and petulant. When, after one particularly blazing row, Linda suggests he leaves their basement flat, it’s notable how his face crumples like a child.

Nursing and marriage. It seems to be that you can do one but not both. Linda’s mother (played by Jessie Evans) makes this point very forcibly, but it’s also commented upon by Maureen and Pat. Pat, after observing that not many nurses are married, wonders if the point is significant (Maureen thinks not, but then it has been established that she’s maybe not the deepest thinker).

There’s an intriguing callback to Off Duty when Pat muses that the pair of them might end up as a couple of old spinsters stuck in a flat (like Sister Easby, agrees Maureen). Sister Easby’s relationship with Beryl in Off Duty could easily be taken as a lesbian coupling – but the tone of the exchange here suggests that neither Maureen or Pat have considered this. An example of their naivety maybe? Although the general theme of this episode does suggest that the spectre of middle-aged nurses married to their careers isn’t uncommon.

The histrionics between Linda and Brian might be today’s major plotline, but Pat and Maureen’s first faltering steps as nurses are also of considerable interest. Luckily they’ve got the capable Jo to keep an eye on them – instructing a slightly nonplussed Pat about the best way to deal with a bedpan, for example.

Patient interaction is fairly minimal today, although the formidable Rita Webb as Mrs White certainly makes an impression. From the opening few seconds it’s plain that Mrs White is a character (she loudly decides that tomorrow she’d rather enjoy toad in the hole for dinner). A quaking Maureen has to later give her a bed bath. After learning that it’s her first day Mrs White has a little cackle, but also reveals herself to be a friendly sort, putting the nervous Maureen at her ease.

George Tovey, as Mr White, has even less screentime but still manages to vividly bring his character to life (I love the way that Mr White chomps his way through a bunch of grapes, which he presuambly brought for his wife!) But Tovey’s major contribution occurs when Mr White asks Linda how long it’ll be before his wife is able to come home. He tells her that’s where she should be (he’s finding it increasingly difficult to cope by himself). It’s fairly obvious that this exchange exists in order to add a little more fuel to the Linda/Brian fire.

That’s resolved by Brian moving out – for the moment – and Linda electing to take a midwifery course, thereby embedding herself even further into her career. So the question about whether a happy balance between nursing and marriage can be struck remains unresolved – Linda chooses to pursue her job at the expense of her personal relationship.

Possibly this is only temporary or it might be that she has doomed herself to a life of spinsterhood. Thirteen episodes in, it does seem significant that she’s the only married nurse we’ve encountered so far (and whilst her marriage isn’t quite dead, it’s certainly on the critical list).

Angels – Casualty (10th November 1975)

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The new intake are approaching the end of their initial twelve week training period – which means they’ll soon be free to roam the wards and face real patients. This, suggests Miss Windrup, will come as a shock to some and their lack of life experience will turn out to be a problem. It’s certainly true that when we first drop in on them today, many are larking about like schoolkids.

But although the training room is the scene of high jinks, there are a few quiet corners. In one, Pat and Maureen are debating the future. Pat is chomping at the bit to get onto the wards whilst Maureen is more cautious. Both have expressed these viewpoints previously, so the training regime doesn’t appear to have changed their initial positions at all. Pat regards most of their training as pointless and simply wants to get stuck in whilst Maureen is keen to check and recheck every step of the way. Incidentally, Miss Windrup has a new nickname (Windy). Fairly obvious really, but it makes a change from Windbag.

Casualty gives us an insight into areas of the hospital we haven’t seen before. The Casualty department for one – although the familar face of Sita makes it a welcoming environment (I’m not sure why, but there’s something mildly amusing about the way she cheerfully speaks to a chap on crutches).

Another first is the fact that we ride out with an ambulance. A film sequence on the high street (featuring an RTA) gives us the opportunity to see the ambulance men at work. It’s notable that when they’re dealing with the patient they don’t speak at all. Also, one of them isn’t at all interested in conversing with the well spoken lady who witnessed the accident and phoned for the ambulance. The clear inference is that how the accident happened isn’t of interest to them (that’s a police matter) wheras dealing with the result of the crash is.

A few familar faces pop up in the Casualty department, such as Angela Crow as Miss Pritchett. She provides a breathing space between the more serious cases (she’s got a dicky ankle) whilst Christopher Coll’s brusque, questioning doctor is a perfect example of the way a doctor in that environment works (where an immediate diagnosis is the order of the day).

Another spot of light relief is provided by Mr Dooley (Allan McClelland). A drunken Irishman who fell into the fire and burnt his backside, he arrives at St Angela’s smeared with an ointment for burns which his landlady had kept since the Blitz ….

The episode intercuts between the realities of the Casualty department with the training room, where the stakes are obviously much lower. The sight of Pat enthusiastically bandaging up Maureen has a comic feel, add this to Miss Windrup’s school-marmish attitude (she reacts in horror at Pat’s stylish shoes) and it’s easy to see why some of the intake find it hard to take things too seriously.

The RTA victim, Mr Morton (Michael Burrell), eventually comes around. Physically he doesn’t appear to be too bad, but the fact he takes angina tablets is a concern. The doctors want to keep an eye on him for a while but he’s far from keen (he has a business to look after). Up to this point Casualty has flitted between several patients who provide a little dash of colour but little else, before the episode settles on Mr Morton. His case feels much more substantial, especially since there’s a mystery at the heart of it (just why did he crash his car?)

The ever-cheerful Sita (the only one of the ward students to feature in this episode) attempts to convince him that a stay in hospital is something of a treat. “You’ll have your meals served for you, hot drinks, televison, everything”. Sounds enticing!

Mr Morton’s decision to ignore the advice of the doctors and go home is the late dramatic highlight of the episode, especially since he collapses with a cardiac arrest as soon as he leaves.

Several later scenes with him in the resus room are played in complete silence. These are striking and help to effectively close an episode that, whilst not the strongest from the first run, still contains a fair few points of interest.

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Angels – Saturday Night (3rd November 1975)

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Following directly on from the previous episode, Saturday Night centres around a party attended by Jo and Shirley. As you might expect it’s something of an exercise in awkwardness for Shirley – although the uncomfortable feeling starts long before she reaches the party.

At home, picking out the clothes she’s going to wear, there’s a strong sense of just how out of practice she is with this social interaction lark. Her eventual choice – pretty formal – confirms this (especially after we observe how casually Jo is attired).

When we first see the party flat – all groovy posters and copyright-free library music – it’s totally bereft of party-goers, which is something that concerns the three friends who’ve organised the shindig (they include Elizabeth Adare, best known for The Tomorrow People). They needn’t have worried though, as soon the joint is jumping ….

Across the course of the episode we meet three men – Brad (Brian Anthony), Gordon (Colin Higgins) and Mark (Graham Faulkner) – all of whom might be potential partners for three of our Angels. Are any of them suitable? Hmm, let’s see.

Brad rates highest on the irritant scale. Lasering in on Jo like a heat-seeking missile, he’s monumentally rude to everyone else – especially Gordon (who like most of the party-goers is training to be a nurse). One of the few non-medical staff at the party, Brad expresses incredulity that a man could want to be a nurse (jokes about having to wear stockings and homosexuality then follow).

Although Jo is quick to spring to Gordon’s defence, she does later admit that male nurses can be a bit off-putting. Her example – their hands seem so large when handling babies – is a little odd though.

Gordon couldn’t be more different from Brad. Quiet and reserved, he seems like the ideal companion for Shirley. It would at least save her from hovering around the fringes of other people’s conversations, looking lonely and left out. Shirley attempts to make conversation with Gordon, but it’s hard going at first. But then he’s in a pretty depressed state, having just returned from a funeral, so the jolly atmosphere of a party isn’t probably the ideal place for him. The two misfits do eventually bond though, united in their outsider status.

Meanwhile back at the hospital, Sita finds herself being chatted up by Dr Mark. Eschewing the party, Sita plans to spend a quiet night writing a letter home to her parents and relaxing by herself in the common room. But Mark has other ideas ….

If the sight of Shirley at the party generates a feeling of awkardness then so does the initial meeting between Sita and Mark. As previously seen, Sita is a nice, courteous and placid girl who therefore is totally unable to tell Mark to buzz off. He’s not downhearted by her initial lack of response though and ploughs on regardless. My favourite line of his has to be “has anyone ever told you what fabulous hair you’ve got?”

During Mark’s cross-examination we learn something of Sita’s background (she arrived with her family four years ago from Uganda). The revelation that Sita has never been to a party astounds Mark (by this point I was beginning to warm to him. Pushy he might be, but he also seemed genuinely interested in Sita as a person). This era of drama often featured young ethnic characters prevented from sampling the delights of Western civilisation by their parents, but it’s much more unusual for the youngster to be self-regulating, as Sita is.

Pat and Maureen attempt to get to the party, but it’s a cursed journey for them. They arrive at the train station, leave to get a bottle for the party, come back to the train station, leave again to go back to the off licence where Pat left her purse, come back to the train station, realise they’ve lost the address, wander about for ages, etc, etc.

Both Jo and Shirley receive knock-backs. Jo’s clearly well shot of the loathsome Brad but Gordon’s decision to pretend that his evening’s heart to heart with Shirley never happened feels much more significant. For Shirley, who rarely finds herself with male company, it’s an obvious blow. Her initial tears and later stony face (as she observes the newly arrived Sita and Mark) hammers this point home.

With no hospital action (we do see some beds, but no patients) Saturday Night continues to develop the characters of the regulars. Shirley and Sita benefit the most – since both are reserved and private people there’s obviously more to work with. Jo enjoys a decent slice of the narrative even if we don’t learn anything new about her, whilst poor Maureen and Pat, relegated to the comedy subplot, mainly reinforce their already established personas.

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Angels – On The Mat (20th October 1975)

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On The Mat opens at Jo and Ruth’s flat. As before, it’s a delightfully dishevelled environment (the attentive viewer can amuse themselves by observing the various knick knacks and posters scattered about). Their conversation ranges from the cruelty of keeping houseplants, Ruth’s infatuation with Dr Crozier (we may not actually see him again, but it’s a nice callback to the previous episode) to her old friendship with Clare Truman (Cheryl Hall). Clare is a former nurse who – post pregnancy – is now a patient at St Angela’s.

The way the camera lingers over a picture of Ruth and Clare (although we didn’t know who she was at that point) suggests she may turn out to be important. That’s the case and Len Rush’s script then proceeds to spell it out. Ruth has fond memories of her former flatmate (telling Jo she was the life and soul of every party, as well as a radical supporter of nurse’s rights). Ruth goes on to say that Clare’s still a cheerful type, but we then cross to the hospital to observe a very unhappy-looking Clare.

So within the first few minutes the disconnect between Ruth’s impression of her old friend and the reality is made plain. Another observation about this first scene, minor though it is, is that both Jo and Ruth look quite different with their hair down. Anyway, pressing on …

The pair elect to walk to work. Their journey takes them past the Thames with Julia Smith’s direction at this point being rather noteworthy. A film insert like this (which doesn’t advance the story) might be seen as an indulgence, but so is the fact that Smith elected to use some type of crane for a swooping tracking shot. Double indulgence maybe, but it helps to give the scene a little extra gloss.

Clare’s the ideal that Ruth aspires to – marriage, a baby, loving husband, nice house – except the audience knows that the cracks are already showing. She’s clearly a woman of means, demonstrated by the fact she has a private room. Different times, but the way Clare casually lights up a cigarette – with her baby only a few feet away – was slightly jarring.

The contrast between Clare’s room (with its air of angst) and the main ward is marked. There, everyone’s smiling: the patients, the nurses and maybe also – when they stop crying – the babies.

It seems odd that Ruth doesn’t seem to have picked up on the fact that Clare’s so unhappy, especially since her colleagues – Sita for example – have. It doesn’t really say much for her skills as a nurse (this is addressed towards the end of the episode). As for Sita herself, she has a very uncomfortable encounter with Clare (who wonders if she’s a man-hater). This is the first time that the normally placid Sita has been flustered and provides her with a welcome spot of character development.

Given the restrictions placed on the use of children and babies during studio sessions, the production could have taken the easy way out and used dummies, but luckily they didn’t. Indeed, Clare’s baby was clearly a talented little actor as they lustily cried throughout several scenes. My first thought was that these screams might have beem dubbed on, but I do think they were genuine.

After being absent for the last few episodes, Pat and Maureen reappear midway through. Maureen’s distracted and rather snippy towards Pat, but this isn’t connected to their falling out at the pub. It’s to do with Maureen’s money problems. Sensible Pat tells her they should go to the office and sort it out – possibly too much is being deducted from her pay packet.

These scenes are very incidental to the main plotline, but since both nurses haven’t featured recently they help to remind the viewers that they are still around. Given that their training is ongoing, I daresay there was only so much dramatic capital which could be mined from their current experiences. Hence the reason why the series has recently been concentrating on the likes of Ruth and Jo.

Bill Owen makes the first of two appearances as Harry Jameson, the head porter. His appearance here is quite brief though, it’s the second – Confrontation – where he really features.

Clare’s husband, Bob (Robert Gary) arrives to visit his wife. I’m afraid I was mesmermised by his moustache, which looks patently false. But musings about his apparently fake face fungus have to be put to one side after Clare disappears ….

It turns out that Clare’s not too far away, so her sudden absence only generates a few minutes of panic. It’s the following scene – when she tells Ruth exactly how unhappy she is – which is more interesting. Ruth’s comment (“if the doctor prescribes pills, then for god’s sake use your loaf and take the bloody things”) is an eye-opener.

The second Ruth-centric episode (Jo only tops and tails this one) is another strong vehicle for Lesley Dunlop. Concentrating mainly on Clare, On The Mat does appear to be inferring – either by design or accident – that her sort of post natal blues is fairly uncommon. The other mothers (only seen in passing) all appear to be quite jolly and well adjusted whilst Clare’s treatment – a handful of pills and an entreaty to pull herself together – implies that a non-physical illness isn’t really an illness at all.

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Angels – Off Duty (29th September 1975)

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There’s a strong school vibe to the opening scene (the trainees are performing various exercises under the eagle eye of Miss Windrup). Maureen is her blue-eyed girl – making a bed with consumate ease – whilst Pat continues to be a problem pupil (her attempts at bandaging aren’t terribly impressive).

The school feel continues when Pat realises that they’ve gone past their allotted time by several minutes. Miss Windrup makes the point that if this was real life they wouldn’t just down tools and let their patient bleed to death. So the less than impressed Pat is told to have another go. Also disgruntled is Sarah Regan (Debbie Ash) who’s forced by Miss Windrup to clean the blackboard ….

Once we get past this scene, the hospital is left behind as Pat and Maureen go out for the evening, with the end result being that their friendship is severely tested. This shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise though – ever since they encountered each other for the first time it’s seemed plain that their relationship – due to their totally different characters and outlooks – is a rather brittle one.

To begin with, their differences are teased out in an amusing way. Maureen is an incurable optimist (remarking that it’s a lovely evening) whilst Pat is an equal and opposite pessimist (she replies that it’s just started to rain). The girls are heading out to see Maureen’s aunt, Mrs Riley (Sheila Manahan). Although it’s a bit of a trek to reach her – she lives on the other side of London – Maureen assures Pat that it’ll be well worth it. The lovely food, the warm welcome they’re going to receive …

This exuberant build up suggests that the reality will fall somewhat short. And so it proves. The food appears to be average at best whilst Mrs Riley is a fairly dour conversationalist. These are nice scenes, with Maureen’s awkwardness and Pat’s irritation both being palpable.

Things look up when Mrs Riley’s son, Barney (Karl Howman), returns home. Barney is something of a proto-Jacko (it only takes him a few seconds to laser in on Pat). It seems plain that Pat quickly organises a secret assignation with him (although we have to wait a while for this to be confirmed). But whilst the audience would have already picked up the vibes (Pat’s keen to pop in to a pub on the way home, but doesn’t really want Maureen around) it takes much, much longer for the penny to drop with Maureen.

Her painful lack of life experience is laid bare over the course of the lengthy pub scene, which lasts for the remainder of the episode. This is manifested in various ways (not realising that the singer is a man dressed as a woman, say). Another example is the fact that the strictly teetotal Maureen is later plied with alcohol by Pat and the recently arrived Barney in an attempt to get rid of her. A rather cruel act on Pat’s part (despite the fact she later tries to laugh it off as a joke) considering she knew that Maureen was abstaining on religious grounds.

The evening from hell then careers downhill a little more with the arrival of Beryl (Jane Lowe). A middle-aged nurse who trained at St Angela’s but now works at another hospital, she pours out her relationship woes to Maureen. This revolve around her friendship with someone called Alex, who does work at St Angela’s. The inference is that Alex is a married man, but the fact that Beryl never refers to them as “he” is more than suggestive.

When Alex turns up, we discover that it’s the formidable Sister Easby. The precise nature of their relationship remains nebulous though – are they still sharing rooms because that’s what nurses tend to do or is there a stronger bond? We’ve already seen with Shirley that certain nurses can find themselves isolated from their peers, so it wouldn’t be unusual if two such unloved people continued to huddle together for companionship.

If Maureen acts rather dimly for the duration of this episode, then Pat matches her by being boorish and insentive (the highlight being when she teases Maureen that all her family must be members of the IRA) . So whilst neither emerges with distinction from this one, possibly the showdown in the pub will help Maureen to toughen up and be a little less trusting. Time will tell.

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Angels – Appraisal (15th September 1975)

It’s quite pleasing that the opening scene switches focus from Jo walking down to the corridor one way to Pat heading in the opposite direction. The pair don’t have any direct contact in this episode, but both – in their different ways – are later shown to be chafing against authority.

Pat’s only been in the hospital a few weeks, but already has fallen foul of Miss Windrup. Miss Windrup has tagged her as someone who is more than capable, but is also inclined to be lazy and unfocused. Pat later admits as much – she’d much sooner spend her free time enjoying herself than studying in the library with Maureen.

Incidentally, it’s notable how cosy and comfortable Pat’s room now is (compare it to the bleak chamber from the opening episode). Pictures on the wall, a record player, plants and a portable television are just some of the trinkets she’s surrounded herself with. This is a reminder that she’s more than comfortably well off, whilst Maureen’s comment that she can’t join her friend (since she has to make her meagre money last the week) reinforces the point that in contrast Maureen has to live under more straightened circumstances.

Pat’s main bugbear is that she considers the majority of the training they receive to be pointless. But if Pat is keen to get stuck in on the wards straight away, the more diligent and cautious Maureen is happy to soak up every last minute of the exercises. The fact that Pat later does well in a training exercise (gaining praise from Miss Windrup) suggests that the natural order has been restored – Pat briefly struggled against the system, but is now compliant. At least for the moment.

But this plot-thread is very much secondary to the continuing travails of Jo. The previous episodes have already established her main strength – she’s excellent with the patients – but Appraisal lays bare the faults in her professional character. Today she has more patient interaction – Jo becomes friendly with Nigel (Keith Jayne), a teenager who’s desperate to go home – but as we’ll see, Nigel’s presence in the episode is mainly to generate the latest crisis point for her.

The boy reacts badly to the news that he has to stay in hospital for a few more days and Jo does her best to cheer him up. A piece of cake, left in his locker by his mother, might do the trick – but Jo is well aware that he’s not allowed any food containing wheat products. That she elects to turn a blind eye to this is simply asking for trouble ….

But that’s only one of the negative comments which Sister Easby (June Watson) directs Jo’s way during her appraisal. The lengthy scene between the pair is this episode’s undoubted highlight. Given that visually there’s not a lot to work with – one small office, two actors – director Derek Martinus nevertheless manages to make this long scene flow nicely by employing a variety of camera angles. Close-ups are always effective – especially after Jo has been reduced to tears – but side-on shots (moving from Sister Easby to Jo) also work well.

Of course, most of the heavy lifting has to be done by the actors and neither disappoints. Last episode we’d had evidence that Jo wasn’t really a team player and today Sister Easby spells it out to her (Jo’s the sort of nurse who loves to chat to patients, but this means her colleagues are forced to do most of the mundane, routine chores). Jo doesn’t react well to this criticism (she considers the hospital to be a dehumanising place and that she’s one of the few who puts the patients first). Unsurprisingly, Sister Easby pours cold water on these idealistic comments.

But just like Pat, Jo is eventually brought back into the fold (although her teary impassioned diatribe is much more dramatic than Pat’s low-key griping). That Sister Easby sends Jo off to do what she does best – holding the hand of a newly arrived and deeply confused patient – suggests that the senior nurse knows where Jo’s strengths lie. The question is whether, over time, she can learn to become a team player ….

Angels – Arrival (1st September 1975)

Trainee nurses Patricia Rutherford (Fiona Fullerton) and Maureen Morahan (Erin Geraghty) arrive at St. Angela’s Hospital ….

Given that the viewer is discovering St Angela’s for the first time in this debut episode, it makes dramatic sense to follow Pat and Maureen on the same journey. The differences between the two are made abundantly clear during the first few minutes – Pat comes from an affluent English family whilst Maureen hails from humbler Irish farming stock.

Pat has the air of a dilettante – she could do almost anything she wished (provided she’ll allow her indulgent father to pull a few strings) but has decided on nursing. Partly this is because she believes it might be a “laugh” although she’s also aware of both the grimmer realities and the rewarding aspects. Her father, Lawrence (Geoffrey Palmer), is exasperated by her choice, but is ultimately supportive. The conflict between the two seems mainly designed to articulate the reason for Pat’s choice (the same sort of mild familial strife applies to Maureen).

Maureen lives in the bucolic Irish countryside, but has her heart set on moving to England in order to qualify as a nurse (she could do this in Ireland, but it would be a longer process). Leaving for England is the source of divergence between Maureen and her mother (played by Ronnie Masterson). Maureen is shown in various ways to be a quieter, more repressed and innocent character than the outgoing Pat (her reluctance to take a drink, for example). This is presumably why her mother is convinced that Maureen’s sojourn in England will change and corrupt her.

Both travel to St Angela’s by themselves, although Maureen’s is obviously the longer and much more arduous journey. Another obvious difference between their mindsets can be seen after they disembark from the train on the last leg of their trip. Pat, with her natural air of authority, finds a guard to help carry her bags but Maureen is forced to struggle on alone. Pat then hops into a taxi in order to travel to St Angela’s in comfort whilst Maureen makes her way via public transport.

Once they both finally arrive, they – along with the rest of the new intake – are introduced to the intimidating Sister Broomstock (Elspeth MacNaughton) who lays down some of the groundrules. Sister Broomstock (“Broomstock not Broomstick” she helpfully tells them) is the archetypical battle-axe figure (easy to imagine Hattie Jacques in the same role). These scenes are interesting mainly for the way we learn exactly what amenities are available to the budding nurses – a shampoo and set for a handful of pennies sounds very good value ….

Their induction continues later at a slightly awkward coffee evening. There’s plenty of polite laughter as the overawed new starters begin to take stock of their surroundings and the training schedule which lies ahead of them. The number of lines on a nurses’s hat (one for a first year trainee, two for two years, three for three years, no lines for a fully qualified nurse) is another interesting little touch.

Given all we’ve seen so far, it’s fair to say that Pat and Maureen have little in common. But – partly because they’re rooming next to each other – they find a friendship developing (initiated by Pat who, as per everything else we’ve witnessed so far, is clearly the proactive one).

Whilst Maureen, Pat and the others are adjusting to their new lives, work on the wards continues. Jo Longhurst (Julie Dawn Cole) would seem to be the ideal that they’re all seeking to emulate. Endlessly patient and cheerful, she corrals her ward with good humour and understanding. Effortlessly able to bat off some of the (good natured?) sexist banter from the patients, Jo makes an immediate impression.

A solid opening episode then. True, it’s a little stilted in places but all the building blocks of the series have been put in place. We know what sort of people Pat and Maureen are, the question is how they will change and adapt once the training process begins in earnest.