SERIES REVIEW: Mayday

 Having noticeably ended both of their hugely popular BBC One shows, Hustle and Spooks, within months of one another, it was clear Kudos productions must have had something else up their sleeves. That something else, it transpires, was Mayday, the drama that most critics have pegged a curious mix between Midsomer Murders and ‘insert other mildly sinister programme of choice here’ – I’m going to go with Lost.

Set in a small rural town with ‘filmed in leafy Surrey’ all over it like so much luminous yellow police tape, Mayday is a meticulously planned whodunit tracing the disappearance and possible murder of a teenage May Queen in the creepy local woods. (You see what they’ve done there with the title? Clever, eh?) Aired over five consecutive nights, the show introduces us to several male suspects, with very little in the way of subtlety in all honesty, although the damn thing’s so addictively intriguing that it hardly matters. 

They’re all suspicious seeming in their own ways, with the glorious Peter Firth, an epithet I shall ever more refer to him by, reprising his association with the company to play Malcolm Spicer, a property developer whose career was ruined by the missing hippy girl. Peter McDonald is equally shifty as angry policeman Alan with everything to lose, alongside silver fox Aiden Gillen as a convincingly damaged and leery widower. Other suspects include schizophrenic tree hugger Seth, (Tom Fisher), to whom I spent most of my five nights watching the show wishing to donate a reassuring cuddle, and self-proclaimed leader of the search party, Seth’s loutish brother Steve (Sam Spruell).

Got all that? Good.

Convincingly shifty though they are, with Peter Firth, sorry, glorious Peter Firth, especially excellent, it is not with the grown up blokes that the best performances of this programme lie. No, no. I have but three things to say about the best performances in Mayday, and they are these, Max Fowler, Leslie Manville and Sophie Okenedo. Okay four things, I’m going to say Sophie Okenedo twice. Max Fowler is absolutely spot-on in his performance of Everett’s troubled teenage son Linus, managing to give the character a level of pithy confidence, despite his dark and desperate exterior. He also carries off his character’s crippling crush on Hattie’s distraught twin Caitlin-the-plot-device (Leila Mimmack), although there’s no way he looks seventeen. Leslie Manville is completely captivating as Gail Spicer, taking us on an incredible character arc I would rather like to have continued long after the series ended- from put upon spouse to sarcastic and independent, we’re with her all the way. And last but not least, Sophie Okenedo. I’m working on an epithet for her but I haven’t quite got there yet. If Leslie Manville is captivating, Okenedo is practically spell-binding in this role. Quietly put upon by her temper fuelled husband, Fiona finds a new path for herself in this time of local crisis, stopping at nothing to, as her husband Alan terms it, ‘put things right’.

As the series goes on, more and more clue as to the back stories of our suspects are revealed, allowing us to form our own conclusions as an audience, as we are drip fed just enough details to keep us coming back for more, but never quite enough to fully twig whodunit. I apologise for that tree pun, given the circumstances, and indeed the image above. The simplistic format of the show, then, revolves from start to finish around these men, their lives and their potential motive. However, given my previous paragraph about the fantastic performances in the show, I can’t help but wish there’d been just a little more variety in the suspects. The female performances are indeed excellent, but with every male character in Mayday almost wholly without sympathy, it would have perhaps been interesting if there had been a female suspect or two as well. I actually found myself inventing motives for several of them just so that, in my head at least, they could be a little more involved.

That said, the slow reveal of information is done well, although the time commitment of almost a week with little to no answers revealed until around Episode 4 will not be for everyone. And is it worth that time commitment? Well yes, I think it largely is. Although I do also think that with these things, it is patently apparent from about the half-way point whether it is going to end in a glorious (Peter Firth again) conclusion with all answers handed to you on a plate, as well as gasp or two at the truth to boot, and maybe a car chase. Or, whether it will end in a slight fizzle, leaving you happy with the series overall, but a tad disappointed with the ending. It happened with last year’s The Paradise, much as I adored it, and alas it has happened here, too. Having spent four days looking forward to next episode, musing on woods based pagan rituals and small town secrets, the last episode left me with more questions than answers. This is never really what you want from a mystery drama, especially when you’re up against good ol’ David Tennant in a suspiciously similar programme over on ITV.

Overall, good, very good in places, but let itself down a tad at the end.

You can watch the whole of Mayday here, on BBC Iplayer.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b01r6kzz/Mayday_Episode_1/

Jen

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TV REVIEW- Ripper Street - A Man of My Company

Pumicing my feet. Painting my toe-nails. Tidying my room. These are just a few of the lovely things I managed to accomplish whilst watching last week’s Ripper Street, all of which proved an infinitely more valuable use of my time than the programme itself.

On the distinct off chance that any of you do still actually care, here’s a brief summary of the episode’s events. ‘A Man of my Company’ finally cleared up for us the mystery surrounding Long Susan, or Sporadically-Thrown-Into-An-Episode-Every-Now-And-Again-As-A-Token-Feisty-Female-Character-And-An-Attempt-To-Elicit-Something-Resembling-Intrigue Susan, as I like to call her, and Captain Jackson. I know, hurrah indeed. I won’t give it away here for those of you yet to watch it on iplayer, but it’s a humdinger! (It’s not). Meanwhile, the murder of a shipping engineer set to transform the fortunes of his company, before his premature death, obviously, keeps the ever-eager Detective Reid and his trusty sidekick Bennet busy, neither batting an eyelid when Jackson acts even more oddly than usual, almost literally morphing into Captain Jack Sparrow before our very eyes. There’s an interesting storyline afoot with the deceased engineer’s wife, played by the wonderful Shauna Macdonald, also of previous Spooks fame, although as has become the all too frequent case with Ripper Street it’s never really enough to hang your hat on.

Again, we’re thrown random references to the elusive Pinkertons, again without any real explanation as to WHO ON EARTH THEY ACTUALLY ARE. I’d like to know, really I would. (Although I admit I could have missed that when rummaging around my dressing table for a nail file). For me, half the fun of period dramas is the easy, uncomplicated glimpse into the characters’ social context and contemporary issues. History with an emphasis on the story part, I suppose. Ripper Street, however, seems to only get so far with this before losing faith in the intelligence of its Sunday night audience and chucking us back in the direction of Really-Not-In-It-Very-Much-Apart-From-As-A-Useful-Hanger-For-Some-Lovely-Dresses Susan. Don’t get me wrong, as an actress I’ve grown rather fond of MyAnna Buring, I just wish they’d give her a bit more to do. Credit where credit’s due, though- there are some lovely set pieces, and the production values remain high as ever. The final showdown between Jackson and his Pinkerton pals is well shot and well scripted, with his London loyalty throughout actually coming across as quite touching in a show that gives rather a bleak outlook on the morality of the nation’s capital, save for the godlike Reid, of course.

What the show is missing, and missing in a big way, are its overall character and narrative arcs. They are there, after all, we’ve seen them! They’ve been like shadows in the corner of your eye when you’re half asleep – but they’ve been there! They’re the alarming scars peeking out from under Matthew Macfadyen’s shirt, Detective Abberline’s teeny tiny obsession with catching the Ripper, or indeed anyone who could possibly have spoken to/seen/brushed past the Ripper once in the street after an evening of one too many ales. Reid’s wife, Emily, even, picked up for an episode or two and then dropped as quickly as that orphanage keeper lady Reid kissed that one time and then never mentioned again, ever, could even contribute to something in the way of an overall plot, if they’d only use her. Indeed, Jerome Flynn’s Bennet Drake is the only character to really show any signs of development, and even that storyline is only given airtime of approximately twelve seconds.

There’s so much there to work with, I’ve said that all along. It’s just that it seems to be perpetually abandoned in favour of a nice shot of some cobbles or YET ANOTHER be-corseted prostitute. Which would be appropriate, welcome, even, if the show itself made even the slightest nod to its namesake, which since the first episode, it has resolutely avoided.

This being my last turn at reviewing Ripper Street, I will not be covering next week’s episode. However from the preview, it appears that maybe, just maybe, Reid and Abberline are going to have another crack at catching Jack. Or something. And maybe, just maybe, all those mysterious little plot threads that have so far only been snatched at like wispy bits of Victorian cobweb will actually be wrapped up, and we’ll all feel delightfully satisfied that we invested so much of our time and energy in this show.

It will be up to my esteemed co-editor to tell you whether or not that has been the case, but I really, really hope it is. Although I suppose I could always use the hour to read a book or do some stretches if not.

Jen

Ripper Street is next on tonight, BBC 1, 9pm.

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SERIES REVIEW: The Paradise

It only ended  a few days ago, and I already miss it.

I’m talking, of course, about The Paradise, product of the BBC’s latest rummage through the period drama cupboard. Based on an Emile Zola novel and with Sarah Lancashire amongst the corset bearing cast – it was always going to be good.

The storyline follows Denise, a young shop girl from Peebles as she embarks on a new life in the city, as well as a new job in local department store, The Paradise. The shop is run, naturally, by a devilishly handsome, clever man named Moray who, naturally, she falls wholeheartedly in love with rather quickly. The enigmatic Moray, however, is, naturally, engaged to manipulative neighbourhood gentry type Katherine Glendenning (Elaine Cassidy), who, hell bent on making Moray love her back no matter what the cost, will stop at nothing to get her way. Throw in a fantastic supporting cast of other shop workers, including the aforementioned Ms Lancashire, Stephen Wight and period drama veteran Ruby Bentall, and a guest appearance from Arthur Darvill for good measure, and you’ve got the makings, it would seem, of a very good show.

And lo, it was indeed good. Emun Elliott is brilliant as the seductive, charming Moray, perfectly capturing the torment of a man caught between respectability, success and his own feelings with none of the usual maudlin stiff upper lip, sense of responsibility frequently bestowed upon us by dramas of the genre. The man never stops smiling, or winking, or generally looking rather animated for longer than ten seconds throughout the entire series. At worst, he gets a bit angry – a welcome change from, in my view anyway, the expressionless men of BBC2’s Parade’s End of a few months back. Joanna Vanderham is adorable as Denise, refreshingly clever for a period female lead, whilst remaining a caring, kind and ultimately three dimensional person. Again, and I can't say the word enough it seems, all very refreshing.

The older characters and generally formal dialogue, however, keep it safely the other side of the comforting ‘in another time’ line, making the series, I found, perfect cosy night or lazy Saturday viewing. It’s also oddly engrossing, possibly because of the team like, homely atmosphere of the department store, as well as the engaging nature of the characters’ relationships with each other. The, albeit brief, appearance of the insanely versatile and ever talented Arthur Darvill didn’t hurt either.

My only real criticism of the show, and I seem to find myself saying this rather a lot about dramas, so apologies for the repetition, is the ending. Having led us by the hand into this interesting, poignant and sweetly funny world, the production team seemed to suddenly let go and disappear off into the night at the last moment, credits rolling behind them. Happy and again, very safe, though the ending was, it came about all too quickly and gave no real sense of resolution or character depth. Which was a huge shame, really, as I haven’t got a bad word to say about the rest of it.

Anyway, ignoring the irritatingly brief, and all too soon ending, The Paradise is well worth a catch on iplayer if you can. If not, the box set would make a lovely Christmas present- even if you do only buy it for me.

-Jen

You can read more of Jen's writing here: https://memyselfandtheothers.wordpress.com/

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SERIES REVIEW: Blackout

 So Blackout, the BBC’s latest mini-series ended this week. Brought to us by the same production team as last year’s infinitely cheerier Single Father, starring a veritable dream team of David Tennant and Suranne Jones, Blackout starred fellow ex Doctor Christopher Eccleston. Although he’d doubtless despise that link. 

 Christopher ‘oh so very serious’ Eccleston , as we like to call him here at the Buffery, plays alcoholic council worker Daniel Demoys, a gruff sort of chap prone to bouts of violent behaviour when under the influence, none of which he can remember the morning after. Set in a rainy undisclosed city clearly modelled on Manchester, episode one charts  Demoys’ slow realisation that he has killed a fellow council worker. Having coming to his senses after saving the life of a young witness in a drug trafficking trial, he must atone for that, whilst simultaneously comforting the deceased’s distraught daughter, played with appropriate distress by Rebecca Callard, as well as saving his collapsing marriage with wife Alex (Dervla Kirwan). Oh and he also had an affair with a rather over idealistic blonde woman by the name of Sylvie, (MyAnna Buring) although that didn’t seem to consist of much more than the odd bit of action in a club stairwell.

Got all that?

In Episode 2, we see Daniel’s decision to become mayor, which allows him to set the world to rights whilst enjoying the professional success that goes along with it, earning him brownie points with wife Alex. It will come as no surprise however, that darker forces are at work here, protecting Daniel’s secret and burying any traces of the past for their own evil ends. These not so subtly sinister undertones bubble precariously close to the surface as the episode progresses, helped in no small way by Andrew Scott’s scene stealing Detective Bevan, and all set to the show’s murky film noir style backdrop.

This paved the way for the third and final episode, details of which I will not reveal here in case any of you haven’t quite caught it on 'the Iplayer' yet.

There's a lot to like, here. Eccleston gives his usual dependably intense performance, with atmospheric lighting and make-up allowing him to look extra stare-y. Dervla Kirwan is an equally reliable actress, although I’d have liked to have seen more of her.The dialogue is true to the unnamed gritty metropolis (Manchester) it is written to represent, the production values are excellent, and the storyline skilfully instils a sense of growing unease and anxiety. Which obviously again ties in with all the shots of chlaustrophobic skyscrapers, endless drizzle and murky grey-green street lighting of the city (Manchester).

It is very stylish.

If I have a problem with it though, it’s that it’s too stylish. Call it personal taste but I think it could have used just a touch more realism in places and a little less glossing over the details. This is particularly apparent in any scenes which even remotely consider alcoholism as a concept, as sufferers are labelled simply ‘drunks’, with that being the end of it. ‘I’m a drunk’, they say. ‘But why, how?’ we shout, unheeded at our screens. For a programme centred on the idea of alcoholic blackouts, the alcoholic side of it is barely touched upon. We see Demoys’ attempts to avoid the booze, but we have no idea how we developed the relationship with ‘the sauce’ that he did.

The same can be said of the ending. Again, I won’t give away too much, but it just doesn't come across as having been well thought out. It’s hurried over and unsatisfying- which is a shame when so much of the production is entirely the opposite.

Worth a watch, but possibly another sad case of style over substance.

Blackout is available on BBC Iplayer until this Monday 23^rd July.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b01klvq6/Blackout_Episode_1/

-Jen

You can read more of Jen's writing here: http://memyselfandtheothers.wordpress.com/ 

Or follow her on twitter: https://twitter.com/jenniferklarge