“I was rude, I was vile, I was queer, I was myself!"
After a peerless couple of episodes, themselves a bloody good example of quality telly, this final episode simply knocks both of them into a cocked hat. Extraordinary.
We see the evidence pieced together, inexorably, until the shocking moment of Thorpe's arrest arrives. The storytelling beats are perfect, the mix of humour and pathos just as in real life, the structure of the whole thing an absolute triumph of both writing and direction, the dialogue simply magnificent, the ending deeply satisfying.
There is of course a harsh light, leavened necessarily by humour, into the shocking levels of homophobia, police brutality, hypocrisy and rank snobbery- the way Thorpe blanks his old friend David, who happens to be northern and common, in the courtroom. But there is also a nod to the other side of the '70s- the clothes, the disco, the famous Peter Cook ribbing of the summing up with the line about "player of the pink oboe". There is injustice; there is inequality; these things are not ok and must be fought, but still there is life, and there is laughter, and there is joy. It's all wonderfully RTD and, after the sadly under-viewed Cucumber, reminds us that RTD is one of the best writers we have. That domestic, semi-confession scene with semi-confession, cod in parsley sauce, love, forgiveness and very understated English emotion, is alone worthy of a BAFTA.
Hugh Grant, of course, also triumphs here, finding even more nuance within this complicated, genuinely progressive man who, in the end, reflexively abuses his privilege to do terrible things, yet is also a victim of the prejudices of his generation. Adrian Scarborough excels too, though, enjoying himself hugely stealing the show as the larger-than-life George Carman. Yet Ben Whishaw perhaps lingers in the mind as Norman finally gets his day in court and finally becomes the gay icon he was destined to be.
A truly historic piece of telly, then, and it bloody well better get that shedload of BAFTAs. Perhaps, also, this is posterity's verdict on Thorpe, a complex man but not a good one. But, er, let's not be dissuaded from voting Lib Dem anyway. I'm fairly sure that Vince has never had any bloody huge Great Danes shot to cover up a murky past, and I wouldn't put it past either May or Corbyn...
Showing posts with label Stephen Frears. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stephen Frears. Show all posts
Thursday, 21 June 2018
Wednesday, 20 June 2018
A Very English Scandal: Episode 2
"She's the love of my life."
"Don't be ridiculous!"
Another utterly compelling hour of telly, then, as things move towards their inexorable conclusion. Russell T. Davies, Stephen Frears and an utterly revelatory Hugh Grant are all spellbinding in this artfully crafted bit of telly, and we get to see along the way just how much human devastation is left behind by self-centred posh boy Jeremy Thorpe. And this from a series that has yet to even mention his probable cover-up of the vile Cyril Smith. And yet, as the opening scene reminds me, Thorpe was very much the sort of man of whose politics I tend to approve. I would have voted Liberal back then. Yet progressive politics do not necessarily stop one from being a complete and utter bastard.
Thorpe's desire to see Norman Scott is thrust in our face from the beginning, but we are allowed, at first, to wonder whether it all might perhaps be a joke; Grant plays this ambiguity well. Yet Ben Whishaw is equally excellent in what is, perhaps even more so than the first episode, a double character study heavily reliant on the abundant skills of both actors. Whishaw truly captures both Scott’s odd innocence and his quietly dignified insistence in a homophobic world (the wedding speech is deliberately both funny and undercutting that with horror at the sheer bigotry, very RTD) that his relationship with Thorpe was real and deserving of recognition, whatever the tragedies that befall him, from his abandonment by his wife (and the taking away of his child, the worst thing that can happen to anyone) to the tragic suicide of poor Gwen- why isn’t the fantastic Eve Myles on telly more often?
Much of the episode sees the possibility of scandal slowly simmering, with an attempt to raise the temperature by Emlyn Hooson here (Jason Watkins is bloody good) and a quiet word to the police by Reginald Maudling there. But there is real pathos as Thorpe genuinely mourns the sudden death of his first wife, and shares real affection with his second. Thorpe may be gay, and closeted, but the women in his life are more than just beards. People are complicated.
The whole business of the 1974 election is handled with admirable economy of storytelling, and then the final stretch running up to the attempted assassination is rightly played as the comedy of errors that it seemingly was, with a delightful appearance from Betty Spencer herself, looking perhaps just a little different. The whole thing is a gripping piece of telly, with script, direction and acting all first class. Er, but I have to say that’s an interesting choice of actor to play John Le Mesurier...
"Don't be ridiculous!"
Another utterly compelling hour of telly, then, as things move towards their inexorable conclusion. Russell T. Davies, Stephen Frears and an utterly revelatory Hugh Grant are all spellbinding in this artfully crafted bit of telly, and we get to see along the way just how much human devastation is left behind by self-centred posh boy Jeremy Thorpe. And this from a series that has yet to even mention his probable cover-up of the vile Cyril Smith. And yet, as the opening scene reminds me, Thorpe was very much the sort of man of whose politics I tend to approve. I would have voted Liberal back then. Yet progressive politics do not necessarily stop one from being a complete and utter bastard.
Thorpe's desire to see Norman Scott is thrust in our face from the beginning, but we are allowed, at first, to wonder whether it all might perhaps be a joke; Grant plays this ambiguity well. Yet Ben Whishaw is equally excellent in what is, perhaps even more so than the first episode, a double character study heavily reliant on the abundant skills of both actors. Whishaw truly captures both Scott’s odd innocence and his quietly dignified insistence in a homophobic world (the wedding speech is deliberately both funny and undercutting that with horror at the sheer bigotry, very RTD) that his relationship with Thorpe was real and deserving of recognition, whatever the tragedies that befall him, from his abandonment by his wife (and the taking away of his child, the worst thing that can happen to anyone) to the tragic suicide of poor Gwen- why isn’t the fantastic Eve Myles on telly more often?
Much of the episode sees the possibility of scandal slowly simmering, with an attempt to raise the temperature by Emlyn Hooson here (Jason Watkins is bloody good) and a quiet word to the police by Reginald Maudling there. But there is real pathos as Thorpe genuinely mourns the sudden death of his first wife, and shares real affection with his second. Thorpe may be gay, and closeted, but the women in his life are more than just beards. People are complicated.
The whole business of the 1974 election is handled with admirable economy of storytelling, and then the final stretch running up to the attempted assassination is rightly played as the comedy of errors that it seemingly was, with a delightful appearance from Betty Spencer herself, looking perhaps just a little different. The whole thing is a gripping piece of telly, with script, direction and acting all first class. Er, but I have to say that’s an interesting choice of actor to play John Le Mesurier...
Saturday, 26 May 2018
A Very English Scandal: Episode 1
"You've infected me, Jeremy, with the virus of homosexuality."
There's something about Jeremy Thorpe that fascinates more than any politician. Perhaps I, as a fairly core Liberal Democrat voter, find him more interesting than those who forget the party exists, but he's the dark heart of liberalism, much as his views and political principles were admirable. Superficial, showy, and worst of all covering up the evils committed by the loathsome Cyril Smith, he is hard to like for one so charismatic.
His story is also an interesting choice for Russell T. Davies. Oh, I know there's the obvious gay theme, but nevertheless RTD isn't usually one for politics dramas directed by Stephen Frears. It can't be denied, though; this first part looks as though he's been writing this stuff for years.This is, let's be clear, a bloody good piece of telly.
It's unusual for RTD in, perhaps, another sense; while the characters are naturally sketched superbly, there's more of an emphasis on plot and theme than would be expected. equally unexpected, though, is a stellar performance from Hugh Grant, full of nuance and far from the romantic comedies for which he is mainly known.
The tale is told through flashback, great dialogue as we would expect, and masterful characterisation. Ben Whishaw is superb as Norman Scott, and the ubiquitous Alex Jennings is well cast as Peter Bessell. Thorpe is an ambiguous character, no hypocrite in supporting the legalisation of homosexuality, but ambitious enough to seek a beard for a wife. And yet, should we condemn him when, this being the '60s, shocking levels of homophobia make it a necessary step to succeed in politics, unless you're a Tory yachtsman from Kent?
The inclusion of Leo Abse and the scenes around the legalisation of homosexuality are rightfully included as necessary context. The attitudes displayed even by those in support beggar belief, and show just how far the Overton window has shifted.
We've missed RTD ever since Cucumber; I'm glad his husband is in better health and am glad he's back. Roll on next episode.
There's something about Jeremy Thorpe that fascinates more than any politician. Perhaps I, as a fairly core Liberal Democrat voter, find him more interesting than those who forget the party exists, but he's the dark heart of liberalism, much as his views and political principles were admirable. Superficial, showy, and worst of all covering up the evils committed by the loathsome Cyril Smith, he is hard to like for one so charismatic.
His story is also an interesting choice for Russell T. Davies. Oh, I know there's the obvious gay theme, but nevertheless RTD isn't usually one for politics dramas directed by Stephen Frears. It can't be denied, though; this first part looks as though he's been writing this stuff for years.This is, let's be clear, a bloody good piece of telly.
It's unusual for RTD in, perhaps, another sense; while the characters are naturally sketched superbly, there's more of an emphasis on plot and theme than would be expected. equally unexpected, though, is a stellar performance from Hugh Grant, full of nuance and far from the romantic comedies for which he is mainly known.
The tale is told through flashback, great dialogue as we would expect, and masterful characterisation. Ben Whishaw is superb as Norman Scott, and the ubiquitous Alex Jennings is well cast as Peter Bessell. Thorpe is an ambiguous character, no hypocrite in supporting the legalisation of homosexuality, but ambitious enough to seek a beard for a wife. And yet, should we condemn him when, this being the '60s, shocking levels of homophobia make it a necessary step to succeed in politics, unless you're a Tory yachtsman from Kent?
The inclusion of Leo Abse and the scenes around the legalisation of homosexuality are rightfully included as necessary context. The attitudes displayed even by those in support beggar belief, and show just how far the Overton window has shifted.
We've missed RTD ever since Cucumber; I'm glad his husband is in better health and am glad he's back. Roll on next episode.
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