Legends: The War on Drugs

 "It's because of what happened to me that I know it hasn't happened to them."

For Guy, Kate and Bailey the stakes of the deadly game are getting higher and higher, with lots of guns, tension, and character moments, from the O'Connells being sprung from a prison van at the beginning to the shocking bloodshed at the end. And, this time, at the centre of it all is drug kingpin Carter, a man whose greed, ambition and need for control leads to horrific levels of violence, death... and, it's strongly hinted at, hubris. 

There's more, though. Thatcher is under threat by the men in the grey suits, Hezza is on the march, it's the Tory conference... and the safety of all three of our protagonists is potentially put at risk for the sake of party politics. Don is there to discuss with others (and us) the psychological well-being of Guy, Kate and Bailey... and he should know. Steve Coogan is, as ever, extraordinary.

Bailey slowly gains the trust of Eddie, who in turn, unsurprisingly, is losing faith in the volatile Carter. There is drama between different Turkish factions. And for Guy, in particular, life feels dangerous and precarious. And the legend is changing him, causing him to threaten his daughter's piano teacher. 

There's a lot going on, and it's all gripping stuff. And yet, with all good telly, character is at the heart of it all. 

Legends: This Is Liverpool

 "That's called importing drugs. It's sort of the opposite of what we do."

Things get even more dramatic and dangerous this week for our underpaid Customs officers working on a shoestring and risking our lives, showing the real costs. Yet we also see why they're doing it. A young Tommy, ironically the son of one of the kingpins himself, finds himself hooked on heroin through a perfectly ordinary and natural set of circumstances, and we slowly see his decline and death. it's harrowing, and it happens to the very father who... orchestrates the shocking ending.

Guy is getting deeper and deeper into his "legend"... and thereby connecting well with Don, who well knows the appeal and the costs. And he's under pressure to show what he can do by actually importing large quantities of heroin which, well, he can't do. But, in a delightful sequence, Don solves the problem in arranging a deliberately botched raid by armed police in Felixtowe. I also love the sequence in which he desperately gets some customs officers to back off. Steve Coogan absolutely steals every scene he's in.

Kate and Bailey also have some excitement, getting locked in while sneaking around but getting away with it through sheer desperate cleverness. But the moment of sheer drama is Shaun's cover being blown, and he and his family subsequently escaping a fiery death by the skin of their teeth. It's utterly gripping, and really sells the risks of undercover work... yet, earlier in the episode, Shaun confesses just how much he's loving it.

Still utterly gripping, even if much of the episode is necessarily setting things up. 

Legends: Alliance

 "You're allowed to enjoy it, Guy."

As per the quote... Guy's wife knows him well. He needs the excitement, the risk, all of it. And, as we hear more of Mylonas's background this episode, perhaps the two of them are more similar than either would admit- both adrenaline junkies.

Turning to Kate and Bailey, we have quite the contrast. Kate is game to take risks, Bailey more cautious, causing tension... until an everyday instance of police racism makes Kate realise what Bailey has to live with, and why he has to be cautious. Meanwhile we meet Scouser Shaun, another bored VAT man, who is sent straight undercover, all because he cares deeply about his local community.

And so our protagonists are nicely developed as characters as we explore the world into which they've been dropped, a world of constant risk, calculation, adrenaline, with occasional betrayal and murder, with twists and turns that lead Kate and Bailey to witness the forging of a new alliance between Hakan's Turks and Carter's Scousers. It's all superbly sculpted plot-wise, yet it really gets us to know the protagonists.

Even more worrying, one of the Turks seems to suspect Guy, and a white van is watching his wife and daughter at their house. The levels of risk are off the charts... but this is Customs, far wilder and riskier than the police or the spooks. This is simply gripping stuff. The drug smuggling montage at the start alone is magnificent television.

I'm loving this. 

Legends: Could You Offer More?

 "Lunch money? What are you, twelve?"

1990. It was a very different time, the early years of rave culture, and Thatcher (just!) hanging on. But it was also a time of massively increasing availability of heroin. And so we have the hard-hitting opening, with two young people, from very different class backgrounds but both with their lives ahead of them, have those very lives snuffed out.

There is, of course, a lot of cynicism in how the government of the day reacted- Alex Jennings has an excellent cameo as rightly forgotten Home Secretary David Waddington driving home this very point. Thatcher, at a low ebb, needed a success. But there's no doubting the moral urgency of snuffing out the heroin trade.

The way this is to be done, however, is on a shoestring. Ordinary civil servants from Her Majesty's Customs and Excise are to go undercover, with only a little training, no extra resources and no extra pay... which is, wow. And so we have our triumvirate who have what it takes- Bailey the VAT man (yay, he says cryptically!); Kate the vice officer, and Guy from Customs- a real person who wrote the book on which all this is based. They are the only three who make it through the rigorous selection process, which is enormous fun to behold.

It's a joy, as ever, to experience the sheer charisma of Steve Coogan as Don Clarke, the world-weary yet wise man in charge, the person who anchors all this. And, soon, we see our brave trio into action, and very real danger.

This is going to be fun. Loving the character of Mylonas...

Number 13

 "Well, I'm sure I don't intend to disappear..."

So we here we have the second of the BBC's 2000s revival of their Ghost Stories for Christmas. For the second year in a row it's an M.R. James adaptation, and for the second year in a row it features Watson himself, David Burke, in a major role.

It's a very CGI'd Victorian cathedral town, and an Oxford don, a Professor Anderson, sets out to study some recently discovered manuscripts for the cathedral authorities. Hilariously, there's a lot of lampshading the fact that he seems doomed early on. He's just that little bit arrogant and aloof. He seeks for knowledge. He pooh poohs superstition. He scoffs at the mention that his predecessors have suddenly disappeared (without paying!) and utters the above quote.

And... as with many hotels, his place of abode has no Room 13, except... sometimes it does. And there are voices at night of confessions from the witch trials of 1647. It's all very ominous...

SPOILERS!

And yes, a twist... Professor Anderson's fate is (just!) averted, and the evil creature from the dark past seemingly destroyed by means of a humble axe. We have, for most of the story, a very textbook M.R. James structure, but subverted at the end.

All in all, then, a quality production, and all the more for the low budget and no-star cast.

The Crown: Season 4, Episode 7- The Hereditary Principle

 "Idiocy and imbecility..."

Another strong episode here, and the first Margaret episode for ages (will there be many more?) as she hits her mid-life crisis with the realisation that her life has been unhappy and there isn't much time left to put things right, certainly not if the lung operation she's just had is an indicator.

There is, of course, a wider theme here of mental health and stigma, as Margaret discovers a family secret in the treatment of some insttutionalised members of the Queen Mum's family- and the first scenes of Katherine and Nerissa give us some juxtapositions characteristic of The Crown as they watch the Royal Variety Performance on telly (is this the one where Tommy Cooper died?) in their institution, and Katherine's birthday is contrasted with that of Prince Edward.

We hear the reasoning, and the voice of a royal generation, from the Queen Mum; when the Abdication propelled the Bowes-Lyons from minor Scottish aristocrats to toyalty by marriage, those within the family seen as suggesting a bloodline that as not "pure" needed to be hidden away. It was, as Margaret says, cruel, inhuman and reprehensible. Genetically, it seems, the royal family cannot have inherited the gene- but that has no bearing on the matter. If the hereditary principle depends on this sort of thing, the hereditary principle must go.

But the episode is also about Margaret, doomed to a life of heartache, emptiness and self-conscious usefulness, where potential lovers turn out to be "friends of Dorothy" and she feels threatened by Diana. I'm not sure she needs the Queen to give her purpose- she's rich and famous; there are plenty of things she could do to make the world a better place. But she is a paradox- a terrible snob who rails against her position as a "spare" whose proximity to the crown grows further apart with each royal birth and, as Gore Vidal said, far too intelligent for her station. And yet, especially as played by Helena Bonham Carter, she's a perversely likeable bitch. 

The Deep Blue Sea (National Theatre, 2016)

"When you're between any kind of devil and the deep blue sea, the deep blue sea sometimes looks very inviting."

I haven't managed to keep up with these wonderful lockdown gifts from the National Theatre, what with life being so very hectic these days, but they really are so kind to us, and really do need all the support they can get right now. Culture matters.

I’ve never seen this play before and nor, I’m afraid to say, have I seen any Terence Rattigan before. It may be terribly upper middle class, but this play is wonderful in how it deals with such deep, overwhelming emotion through the medium of deliberately awkward, very British dialogue. Perhaps our distance from the play helps us to see it more clearly; certainly 1952 is made to seem a long time ago. Restrictive divorce laws; suicide being a crime for which one can be imprisoned; the same for homosexuality, particularly resonant for the author and (it’s implied) for poor Dr Miller, who may perhaps be seen as the authorial voice. We are fortunate to live in the wake of the 1960s when these wrongs where righted.

Helen McRory is simply outrageously good here in the meatiest of female roles. As much of a revelation to me, though, is the play itself. The style may be old-fashioned, and the treatment of the themes may jar with our mores of today, although it’s fascinating to see how subtly subversive the play is. Rattigan is a writer I shall have to explore.