Cilla, Part 3

"Fellas don't actually have sex together, do they?"

And so we reach the end of this quietly brilliant miniseries, using first class writing, performances and design to show us a grottier, more working class 1960's in comparison to the showbiz, it becomes clear just how good it's been. Cilla is actually shown to be a bit of a spoilt bitch here, sabotaging Bob's potential showbiz career for purely selfish reasons, while Brian Epstein, so assured and sophisticated on the surface, is shown t be a deeply damaged victim of abuse, his suffering magnified by society's prejudice and his consequential self-loathing. There's real darkness here in what happens to (in this at least) a rather lovely man.

While this is a story of Cilla failing to maintain the momentum of her two number one singles and the desperate need to find a replacement for an inevitably fickle pop career, there's enough charm and wonder to make up for the sad scenes of failure in London and New York. The pride of Cilla's parents, of the older generation but adaptable, is contrasted with Bob's dad, left behind in his sectarian ways and driven to his death by his alienation from this brave new 1960's world.

As usual, Sheridan Smith is amazing, and yet again we get cameos from various Beatles and other '60s figures, this time including Burt Bacharach and, er, Danny La Rue. But behind the smiles and the superficial glamour is the cruel Darwinism of the world of showbiz.

Cilla, Part 2

"Come and give me a cuddle. And stop sulking."

Once again this is a bit of Feelgood fun and not exactly high art, but for what it is it's brill. Yes, it's somewhat predictable that this episode should end with Cilla finally getting success with her first number one single and yes, you can predict every beat of the drama. But who cares, frankly?

Sheridan Smith is again brilliant at both singing and acting. I shall leave the judgement of her Liverpudlian accent to those more qualified. And the period is, again, brilliantly reconstructed both visually and socially. The scenes of Brian Epstein's awkwardness within London's gay scene, in a time not only before legalisation but before Julian and Sandy, are poignant. And again we have sectarianism, with contrasts; Bob cannot live at home because he's with a Catholic girl, yet Cilla's parent come to accept Bob, seeing past his Catholicism.

Another big theme, of course, is class, especially between the delightfully common Cilla and the relatively posh and gentlemanly George Martin; we are even given a scene focusing on her accent while singing. Ed Stoppard, incidentally, is superb as Martin, a rather complex figure in his combination. Of old-fashioned gentlemanly mannerisms and innovation on the studio. Still, there's a clash between him and Bob, who isn't happy with the choice of a decidedly non-rock 'n' roll song from Dionne Warwick. 

We end, having seen the contrast between Liverpool and the showbiz world of That London, with a montage of all the characters we've seen hearing "All Kinds of Everything", including two very proud parents. But will success spoil Priscilla White...?

Cilla, Part 1

""'Ey, Cilla, no pressure. It's only your whole future depends on it!"

Yes, I know: this sort of thing is generally best done on BBC4. But ITV did a pretty good job with Tommy Cooper recently, so I thought I'd have a look at how they dealt with their very own Cilla Black. 

This may not be a great work of art, but it's fun seeing a recreated Mad Men era Liverpool, with assorted Beatle impressions, a recreation of that iconic shot of the queue just outside the Cavern and a glimpse into the social attitude of this distant yet not-so-distant time. In many ways the protagonists, young enough to be my parents' elder siblings, are similar in terms of social mores than today. And yet, in a clever scene, Cilla is shown kissing a black man and then explaining that her parents wouldn't approve because he's a "prod".this is working class, teddy boy, sectarian Liverpool on the early '60s.

Sheridan Smith is, of course, a true star here. She speaks perfect Scouse and is perfect at Cilla's mannerisms, even singing herself in Cilla's style. We get a real sense of the Merseybeat scene of the era, which sounds bloody fantastic, even if I haven't heard of most of the bands.

Things end in a downer, with Cilla knocked back to a typing pool, and Madison Avenue this ain't. Never mind, though; I suspect stardom beckons...