"There's nothing wrong with boys from London."
Wow. That was another masterclass in television drama from RTD, again managing to meld the deeply tragic with the humorously human in a way that feels like life, with his extraordinary flair for dialogue and characterisation. The spectre of AIDS gets closer and closer to our three stars, and again claims the life of someone whom we care about.
Richie and Jill, bookending the episode with a pair of duets, five is a stark contrast. Richie’s oh-so-clever conspiracy theory scepticism gets a gloriously choreographed monologue to camera, quite rightly breaking the fourth wall in ways that remind me of RTD’s Casanova, which I haven’t seen since before this blog existed. And yet, one of those theories he mocks about where AIDS could have come from is, probably, correct.
Jill, meanwhile, is keen to learn the truth, sending Colin on a fact finding mission in New York and being Gloria’s only confidant, with him in a devastating scene as he tries to deny what is happening, and looking after him while vigorously sponging herself and washing up with rigour. It was 1984, and people really did know nothing.
There is much else happening- the sadness of how Roscoe being himself is affecting his family, and the uncomfortable scenes of Colin’s lecherous boss trying to have his way with the young man in a very MeTok sort of way until he spots the AIDS literature Colin’s being collecting- leading shortly thereafter to the most cheerful sacking ever.
What haunts us most, though, is the sight of Gloria’s family, at his wake, throwing all his loved possessions on the fire and rejecting who he is. Horrible.
I’m dreading what awaits us next week. And yet this is extraordinary telly, still on track to be RTD’s masterpiece.
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