"I should like a bacon sandwich."
Sigh. I've been procrastinating about watching this final episode and yes, like the series as a whole, it just isn't very good. Is there any way I can avoid this blog post just consisting of me metaphorically putting this 55 minutes of telly over my knee for a sound spanking?
Well, no one sets out to make bad telly. It's well shot, particularly the action sequences with the CGI Martian. The acting is not so much bad- everyone is competent- but, Robert Carlyle aside, lacking in charisma. And you can see glimpses at times of the fact that Peter Harness is the same writer who has done so much good stuff in the past- the coda of Amy describing to little George is rather lovely. So is the ambiguous note of hope as the clouds seem to clear at the end. Will George live? Will Amy's and Ogilvy's typhoid cure be rolled out? Will they manage to grow crops and survive the winter? Will Ogilvy ever get that bacon sandwich? We can just about imagine that they might. Or not.
But such glimpses do not good telly make. Fundamentally, I think, the structure doesn't work. The first episode was ok, with its linear narrative and the fun of Edwardian Surrey facing an invasion from Mars, in spite of the charisma-free leads. But, for this episode and the last, the split narrative- the flashback to the invasion and the "present" day of the red weed and civilisation breaking down- not only makes the narrative actively less dramatic but adds nothing to the subtext or characters.
Yes, I can see that it would have been worse narratively to have an episode culminating in the Martians dying and another one on the later years of red weed and starvation. But why have the latter at all? If it's a crude metaphor for the climate crisis then it doesn't work; the red weed isn't man made, however much the subtext- in the original novel here and too didactically articulated by George here- may be that this is the British Empire getting its just desserts. Nor do I like how George's idealism is shown as naive and unrealistic. I'm no socialist- my heroes are John Lilburne, John Maynard Keynes and Henry George, not Keir Hardie or the Webbs- but I don't like how socialism is caricatured here.
I suppose, then, that this is quite well made. But the whole thing is woefully misconceived and, in spite of some good work in paces, sadly a bad piece of television.
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