While cop drama Line of Duty is right on target, dull whodunnit Broadchurch is just right on
BROADCHURCH will come to a self-congratulatory end, next week. And not a moment too soon, judging by the last two series.
It’s still a serviceable enough whodunnit, but one more run and it would definitely go “the full EastEnders”.
An opinion you can largely blame on the writer Chris Chibnall who, perhaps frustrated by the limitations of the format and his own ability, has started replacing dialogue with speeches, which means Olivia Colman’s DS Miller, David Tennant’s DI Hardy and even the local newspaper editor, Maggie, are now all speaking with exactly the same preachy, right-on, chest-poking voice.
The absolute worst of it, though, is that Chibnall’s also developed a really bad case of what’s known as “White Knight syndrome” and clearly thinks he is very much the saviour of the female sex by reducing every single male character to a rancid soap cliche.
They’re either weak (Mark), predatory (Jim and Clive), weird (Ed, Leo and Ian), or a combination of all those things and, like Hardy, a bad father to boot.
It’s a close run things at times, admittedly, but I don’t have enough self-loathing or the boredom threshold to put up with this broadsheet bleak view of blokes any longer. Even if I could, though, there would be other obstacles to enjoying Broadchurch III. Like Lenny Henry, for instance, who is rank rotten as Ed the farm-shop stalker.
For the entire plot to work, you also have to believe Ed is so overcome with longing for rape victim Julie “Trish” Hesmondhalgh that he’s secretly taken 5,219 photographs of her, from every conceivable angle, trying to find one, just one, where she doesn’t look a bit like Gary Neville.
And trust me, you don’t.
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It’s a harsh verdict on a reasonably successful series, I realise, and it’s entirely possible I’ve only noticed how much Broadchurch is getting wrong because there’s another police procedural drama getting it so wonderfully right, every Sunday night, on BBC1.
This is, of course, Line Of Duty, which has been the best show on television, since 2012 and makes just as many serious points as the ITV series, but without ever insulting the viewers by telling them what to think.
It also clearly believes good and evil is a bit more of a grey area than Broadchurch.
If it didn’t, then writer Jed Mercurio would never have come up with a character as conflicted and brilliant as DCI Roz Huntley who, even as she’s trying to cover up the murder of her forensics expert, is still ordering Adrian Dunbar’s Superintendent Ted Hastings “to use gender-neutral language”.
The character’s one thing, what will elevate it to TV awards is the astonishing performance of Thandie Newton, who’s stealing almost every scene with just a look or a flex of her jaw muscles.
And if that sounds a bit smitten, then fair enough, I am. But so are all the cameras. In fact they can hardly take their gaze off Huntley during Line Of Duty’s long interview scenes, which can often last up to ten minutes but are still the most gripping thing on television.
What the show specialises in, however — and sometimes overdoes — are those sudden and unexpected outbursts of violence that flip the entire script and leave one of the best characters fighting for their life, at the end of an episode.
There was another one of those, on Sunday, which means I will now spend the rest of the week just drumming my fingers until the next episode arrives.
As for Broadchurch?
ITV will expect us all to be on tenterhooks as the ID of Trish’s rapist is revealed, on Monday. But why the hell should I bother when they’ve already found half the country guilty?
(Line Of Duty, Sunday, BBC1, 9pm).
- FAVOURITE quiz answer of the week. Ant & Dec’s Saturday Night Takeaway, Dec: “What is the US national anthem called?”
Neil: “The spar spank start bangled spanner.”
Ah, the good old SA of U, land gland flange of the free.
Viewers crying Fowler
HOW seriously dense and docile does EastEnders imagine its viewers to be? So dense they reckon none of them will bat an eyelid when Michelle Fowler arrives back with a head transplant, bingo wings and a 17-year-old American boyfriend, who looks like Jude Law.
And so docile that when version two of Michelle gazes adoringly at a photo she claims to have taken of Sharon, Angie and Pauline, not one will pipe up: “Hang on a friggin’ minute, luv, that was Susan Tully, not you.”
Yet still they persist with this charade and miss chance after chance to kill her off.
Although the bang to the head she received, in the recent car crash, has, rather weirdly, left her speaking nothing but the unvarnished truth. “I’ve ruined everthing, Sharon.” Yes. “The longer I stay here the worse I make people feel.” Yes. “It’s better if I head off again.” YES. Yes it is. So please, in the name of God, go.
But she won’t, of course. Misery clings to this place. So, instead, they’ve just bumped off the life and incontinent soul of the party, Sylvie, who was – I kid you not – electrocuted in the bath, while listening to a best of The Kinks CD. Which would’ve been the best soap death of all time, but for the characteristically pompous disclaimer: “Details of organisations offering support after Sylvie’s story are available at BBC Action Line.”
I only hope Ray Davies gets all the counselling he’ll so desperately need.
- EASTENDERS mysteries: Where the hell is the magic staircase that leads to The Queen Vic’s roof?
Why does Ben shout all his lines? What happened to Jay nicking all the funeral parlour money?
And would it be fair to say these are the least surprising words ever uttered in soapland?
Martin: “You can have the exercise bike. Sonia never used it.”
Filth Corner
Eurosport, the European weightlifting championships, David Goldstrom: “See how deep Mariia Vostrikova receives this one, right in the bottom, nowhere else for it to go.” Michaela Breeze: “Not sure her three-year-old son will be watching this.” You’d hope not.
- LISTING of the week. Thursday, April 13, Channel 5, 10pm: “Fritzl – What Happened Next.”
And, rest assured, if it turns out to be Celebrity DIY: SOS, Austria’s Got Talent or a walk-on part in Normal For Norfolk, you’ll be hearing more from me on this one.
Rylan's angel delight
WE were on the verge of a super-natural television breakthrough, on This Morning, last week, with some mad, old, ghost-whispering bat called Lorna Byrne, who believes in guardian angels, and Rylan Clark, who wanted to know: “Do I have one?”
“Yes, you do have a guardian angel,” she sort of confirmed. “It’s in the same position as Phillip’s (Schofield), right behind you. It has its hands on your shoulders and your one is kind of pushing you forward . . . ”
Yes, yes?
“And I haven’t the faintest idea what that’s about.”
Pity. ’Cos if you did, millions of British TV viewers would love to know.
Random TV irritations
This Morning raising everyone’s hopes by telling us “Ferne McCann’s live from the shark tank today,” without mentioning the safety net.
Russell Watson’s endless fund of chat show humble brags. Former Masterchef contestants marching on to the show like they’re the Reservoir Dogs, rather than three food nerds who are going to complain about under-done ravioli.
Every single member of the Harlots production team who watched too many Adam Ant videos when they were little. And the legacy of worst-ever BBC1 boss Danny Cohen: The Voice on TV, Clarkson on a fire-stick and quotas on absolutely everything. Thanks a bunch.
Great Sporting Insights
Sam Allardyce: “We had three previous wins, so the win against Chelsea was our fourth.” Charlie Nicholas: “Bamford doesn’t fill the void that Boro don’t have.” And Jeff Stelling: “His vote of confidence was the chairman saying he doesn’t need a vote of confidence.” (Compiled by Graham Wray)
TV Gold
Adrian Dunbar, Martin Compston, Scott Reid and Thandie Newton on the unmissable Line Of Duty.
Fidget the weasel, unicycle hockey and the “Rylan Clark or something-from-the-ark” quiz, on a vintage episode of The One Show.
Celebrity Juice going where so-called alternative comics fear to tread. The Nightly Show’s holiday to Africa being won by a bloke from Africa.
And a bewildered Des O’Connor playing the “chipolata or sausage” game, on Alien Fun Capsule, wearing an old tissue box mask: “Could you get my agent on the phone?” Harry Hill: “Your agent died in 1974.”
Quiz show imbeciles of the week
15 To 1, Sandi Toksvig: “Which star of martial arts films acquired the nickname ‘The muscles from Brussels’?”
Angus: “Jackie Chan.”
Tipping Point, Ben Shephard: “Since 1950 the Italian Grand Prix has taken place at which circuit?”
Suzy: “Monaco.”
Pointless Celebrities, Alexander Armstrong: “The prince who married Queen Elizabeth II in 1947, of Greece?” Faryl Smith: “Prince Edward.”
Lookalikes
THIS week’s £69 winner is BBC news correspondent John Pienaar and Mr Potato Head from Toy Story. Sent in by Gillian Spick, Nottingham.
Picture research Amy Reading.
- CLARIFICATION: RE Ant & Dec’s Disney World special. When guest announcer Christina Ricci said “I’ve had selfies with all the famous characters, Mickey Mouse, Goofy, Pluto and...moon-faced Mulhern,” she was of course mistaken.
That was Scarlett Moffatt, not Goofy.