This article was originally published in The Dundee Courier on 17 June 2017.
POLDARK: Sunday, BBC One
FEARLESS: Monday, STV
THE LOCH: Sunday, STV
Were
it not for POLDARK, Britain would be
lost without its desperate fix of brow-clenched, bosom-heaving, stubble-jutting 18th
century stoics galloping urgently atop rugged coastlines.
Occasional
viewers of this, if you will, handsomely mounted melodrama needn’t worry about
picking up the storyline, as nothing ever changes in Poldark’s world of tricorn brouhaha.
Ross
broods, Demelza frets, Warleggan smirks. Rinse and repeat. Watching Poldark is like leafing through a
yellowed Georgian volume of relationship advice columns; mildly diverting, but
of no lasting interest.
It
might sound odd to describe a drama steeped in death and betrayal as comfort
viewing incarnate, but that’s precisely what it is. A slick cake of antique
soap. Howard’s Way in mud-caked
britches. Take a Break by
candlelight.
Which
is fine, up to a point. God knows we all need some escapism in this
sense-forsaken cesspit of a world (Corbyn should’ve campaigned on that slogan).
But this adaptation of the Poldark
saga, for all its solidly professional drive, lacks the heightened dynamism of
truly great escapist entertainment.
I
used to quite admire its knowing sense of straight-faced camp, but even that
seems to have dissipated. Without that saving grace, that enemy of blandness, Poldark is little more than a slightly
above average Sunday evening time-passer.
Still,
Mammoth Screen, the prolific production company behind Poldark, deserve their reputation as fine purveyors of
prestigious period dramas. Parade’s End,
Victoria, Endeavour and their macabre Agatha Christie adaptations all
testify to that.
However,
their newest venture is an atypically contemporary thriller steeped in
millennial anxiety; catnip for fans of jittery camera-work, steel-blue lens
filters and clandestine meetings in multi-storey car parks, but unfamiliar
territory for this team.
Has
their detour paid off? Well, you certainly can’t fault FEARLESS for scrimping on Big Topical Issues. Starring Helen
McCrory as Emma Banville, a successful human rights lawyer famed for taking on particularly
difficult cases, it takes in state surveillance, police corruption, tabloid
hysteria and Syrian refugees. Bingo!
Chain-smoking
Banville’s latest client is a convicted paedophile and murderer who claims his
confession was coerced. She believes him, but the case is hardly cut and dry.
Her reputation as a maverick liberal trouble-maker is an inconvenient barrier
to exposing powerful establishment cover-ups, plus she’s haunted by some
unspecified childhood trauma, as protagonists in dramas of this nature tend to
be.
For
Emma Banville, this will be The Toughest Case Of Her Life.
For
all its heavy-handed dialogue, clichéd beats and ropey performances – Sam
Swainsbury as the possibly innocent man and comedian John Bishop as Banville’s
husband are glaringly poor – Fearless
gets by so far on the intrigue of its central mystery plus strong work from
McCrory. But the jury’s still out on Mammoth’s shaky foray into 21st
century turmoil.
Curling!
Murder! Christian fundamentalism! The aged jowls of John Sessions and Callum
Gilhooley!
You won’t find a more accurate or sobering portrayal of post-Brexit,
post-Nessie Scotland than THE LOCH,
a fairly enjoyable formulaic crime drama which, unlike Fearless, doesn’t take itself too seriously.
The
recent triumphant return of Twin Peaks
reminds me that David Lynch basically invented the oft-copied template of dark,
offbeat TV thrillers based in hauntingly beautiful, remote communities.
While The Loch is no Twin Peaks – needless to say, no one involved in this shameless Broadchurch and Happy Valley rip-off is a visionary genius - if only for its
wry blend of forensic gore and pretty pictures, it’s a welcome Sunday rival for
mouldy old Poldark.
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