Viva Forever! - Review

Not a TV review, but an amazing musical which I reviewed for the Yorker.

Monday 10th December 2012

 

Viva Forever, the long-awaited musical based around the hits of the Spice Girls, has finally arrived to spice up the West End. For anyone who lived and breathed the Spice Girls in their 90s childhood (and if you didn’t, then you made some poor life choices), this was a much anticipated chance to relive the heyday of girl power.

Having bumped into Olympian Louis Smith on my way to the theatre, I was already pretty hysterically excited, which is probably the perfect mood to be in for this musical. Produced by Mamma Mia mastermind Judy Craymer and penned by comedy legend Jennifer Saunders, Viva Forever follows Viva (Hannah John-Kamen), a talent show hopeful and member of a spirited girl group, whose loyalty to her mother and friends is tested as she struggles with overnight fame and the machinations of her mentor (Sally Dexter).

While satirising the evils of a contrived reality show is hardly a new idea, even the caricatures are tackled with such verve that it feels fresh. The plot plays with the themes of the original Girl Power group – friendship, loyalty and fun – but bases little on the band themselves. Perhaps I’m biased, but it felt much more clever and self-aware than Craymer’s previous hit musical.

The audience were buzzing with excitement before the curtain was raised, and a fantastic opening sending up talent show clichés before exploding into the unmistakeable sound of Wannabe sent the atmosphere into fever pitch. The exuberant cast, particularly the band members (Siobhan Athwal, Lucy Phelps, and Dominique Provost-Chalkley), brought irrepressible energy, and portrayed the all-important group dynamic completely believably. I only wish we’d seen more of them – whilst Viva was wonderful, the relationship between the group, particularly during their anarchic rendition of Stop, was brilliant, and could easily have borne more time on stage. The ending was pure uplifting joy, even before the obligatory sing-a-long to finish.

The show bears the clear stamp of Saunders, with Sally Ann Triplett as Viva’s mother occasionally resembling Ab Fab’s Eddie, and also in Saunders’ keen eye for humour in the songs - her re-imaginings of Too Much and 2 Become 1 were particular highlights. Overall the Spice Girls’ back catalogue was wrestled into a narrative surprisingly well, and a nice balance was struck between classics, imaginative re-workings and mash-ups, with even some lesser known songs included (although we could have done without Let Love Lead the Way. No one likes that one).

For those of us whose childhood was defined by the Spice Girls, it is undoubtedly one of the best feel-good musicals around. Suffice to say, if the thought of leaping out of your seat to bounce along to Spice Up Your Life fills you with dread, then it’s advisable to steer clear. But the irresistible charm of the lively cast and the enduringly catchy music mean it’s hard to walk away from Viva Forever without a huge smile and the urge to listen to Wannabe on repeat. A reminder that no girl band has come close to the iconic hits, charisma and sheer joy the Spice Girls brought, it’s fantastic to have a home for them on the West End – I will definitely be going again.

Goodnight Britain - Review

Sunday 2nd December 2012

 

After being the victim of a night-time assault in second year by a housemate who revealed his sleepwalking habit by appearing in my room and throwing his toiletries bag at me, Goodnight Britain looked to me to be a timely insight into unusual sleeping habits.

According to the documentary, my housemate is one of half a million Britons who suffer from parasomnia, the technical term for sleep-walking, talking, and in the case of one woman featured on the programme, screaming and running about in the belief that you are being assaulted. I sympathised with her frazzled housemate.

Goodnight Britain also tackled sufferers with common problem sleep behaviours such as snoring and insomnia. The first step involved going all Carrie Mathison on the sleep sufferers and rigging their homes with night vision cameras, which were closely monitored by two sleep experts (who weirdly never seemed to need sleep) in their ‘sleep mobile’, where they proceeded to make borderline creepy observations such as “she looks like a good sleeper.”

To begin with it was hard not to see the funny side of the unusual night time activity; I have a friend who talks in her sleep and once hosted an imaginary dinner party where she offered me cheese canapés. In such cases, it’s easy to regard parasomnia as pretty harmless. However the show soon highlighted the serious side of dodgy sleeping, as one participant was suspended from his job as a van driver due to his suffering from obstructive sleep apnoea, a terrifying condition which meant he stopped breathing in between snores.

The insights into the science behind a good night’s sleep were fascinating, but stretched out to two hour long episodes things became increasingly tedious. In the first episode we watched the sufferers in their homes, before watching them again in a special ‘sleep house’, which felt like a particularly dull episode of Big Brother. It wasn’t until the second episode that they actually underwent treatment, a repetitive affair of analysing each night’s sleep, until the interesting tips about “sleep hygiene” and how to treat insomnia were buried under all the content. Condensed into one hour we could have avoided all the unnecessary attempts to inject drama with the most clichéd TV terms available – apparently treating the various conditions would mean “pushing sleepers to their limit”. Sometimes it’s better to just admit that you can’t wring that much drama out of watching someone try and sleep with a mouth guard in.

Nevertheless it was great to see the participants overcome the night behaviours that tormented them, and to see snorers returning from their banishment to the sofa. As for sleep walkers, apparently the solution is to rig their doors with alarms so they can’t get out of their bedrooms – I’ll definitely be trying that one out.

Derren Brown: Fear and Faith - review

 

Friday 9th November 2012

 

When it comes to Derren Brown, people are split into two very distinct camps – the believers and the cynics. Personally I’m in the former; not only am I a little bit scared of him, but I’ve seen him live, and unless he’s a professional Frisbee thrower with infallible aim, he definitely doesn’t use actors in his stunts.

The cynics, however, came out in full force after last week’s Apocalypse experiment, when accusations that the volunteer had been an actor caused a stir in the media – claims which Brown was quick to refute. Regardless of this controversy, I find Brown is at his best not with huge bombastic stunts involving plenty of zombie extras, but with the subtler and scarier mind-meddling. Some of his most memorable mind games have turned members of the public into bank robbers and assassins, so the concept of Fear and Faith sounded particularly tantalising.

The resulting show, however, was not at all like Brown’s usual experiments – it was, in fact, all rather nice. Brown purported to be investigating the placebo effect, by giving test subjects ‘Rumyodin’, a drug that would help them overcome their individual fears, be they confrontation, heights, or singing in public. The theme, rather than seeing how much Brown can traumatise someone before he is stopped by health and safety regulations, was about showing what we are all capable of when we are not held back by our fears.

If that all sounds a bit kind for Brown, it’s because this show had a much more positive feel than his previous nefarious experiments. Though the concept didn’t really lend itself to the mind-blowing twists we are used to with his programmes, the show found joy in the test subjects’ personal victories, providing a surprisingly uplifting hour of television. I was expecting Brown to push his volunteers more, to trick them into extreme situations and see if they crack, but really this programme was about the everyday struggles people face. Strangely, watching someone overcome a paralysing fear of heights can give just as much of a thrill as watching someone battle zombies. It’s great to see Brown using his powers for good, and makes a refreshing change of tact for a man that is usually so menacing (seriously, the guy scares the absolute life out of me usually).

Though the show wasn’t the mind-bending spectacle I was expecting, and arguably wasn’t quite as mischievously entertaining as the time he convinced someone  they were witnessing their own death, it was still a fascinating exploration of the power of psychology, and nice to see a positive programme by Brown. Though next week’s episode looks set to return to controversy by applying the placebo effect to the concept of religion, this week was a respite from feather- ruffling for Derren Brown. This time, no one can accuse him of forgery.

The Curious Case of BBC Three

 

Until a few weeks ago, the most I’d ever watched BBC Three was when it streamed Olympic sports over the summer. It was a channel that, with a few notable exceptions, I generally only resorted to if there was nothing else on and I couldn’t be bothered to pick up a book. But over the last month or so, something strange has happened. BBC Three has had a sudden surge of appointment television, of programmes that I would choose to watch, not just let wash over me because I can’t roll out of the dent I’ve made in the sofa (it’s been a long summer).

BBC Three’s remit states that it should provide “high-quality” programming that is “innovative” and utilises “new UK talent”. Maybe I have a selective memory or I’m being overly critical, but those certainly aren’t the words that would spring to mind if anyone asked me to describe the channel. Maybe I’ve just missed much of the good programming the channel has had in the past, or perhaps the fact that it is funded by the licence fee means that we will always expect more of BBC Three. Its rival E4, competing for the same age group, often seems to grab the big name US imports, which attract more attention than any misfires the channel might produce.

But recently on BBC Three there has been a glut of new, decent comedy, the likes of which the channel usually only likes to provide in sporadic episodes, often years apart, before coming to its senses and returning to its usual output of repeats and Greatest Movie Mistakes; see Little Britain, Gavin and Stacey, and Him and Her for examples, all of which, even if not to your personal taste, have garnered larger audiences and more critical praise than the usual BBC Three fare. The channel seems to be undergoing another comedy renaissance at the moment, producing a string of quality programmes that seem a cut above the normal channel output.

Jack Whitehall’s Bad Education was a strong sitcom debut that I found myself looking forward to every week, mainly due to the phenomenally talented young cast that populated the classroom. The show managed to produce a whole host of gifted young actors, certainly filling the “new UK talent” requirement.

Cuckoo, the channel’s latest comedy, is far from perfect, but driven by the ridiculously brilliant Andy Samberg, it has become compulsively watchable. The inclusion of Samberg seems to hint at the channel’s intent – an American comedy legend from The Lonely Island and Saturday Night Live, he is traditionally more likely to be found in a spoof music video with Justin Timberlake than fronting a BBC Three comedy.

The channel also aired what was perhaps my favourite new show of the summer, The Revolution Will Be Televised (although truthfully I can’t really remember what I was watching two and a half months ago at the beginning of the holiday). When I saw the trailer, it looked like a lazy prank show, featuring comedians handing out Jubilee merchandise to the public and chortling about how it’s cheap tat; obvious, and not particularly funny. But it turned out to be a brave, intelligent and most importantly hilarious show. Rather than being a mere exercise in cynicism, Revolution explained the cold hard facts behind some of the biggest scandals and injustices that are going on, and then combined this with hysterical public stunts – one of its stars was the guy who tried to give George Osborne a GCSE maths textbook. Unfortunately for everyone, Mr Osborne refused it.

Revolution was a genuinely excellent programme, the sort that feels so vital that you are relieved someone is making it. With output like this, BBC Three seems to be finally demonstrating its worth. Is this the start of rejuvenation in the channel? Or is it just another brief episode of brilliance before the channel suddenly remembers that John Humphrys hates it, is crippled by self-doubt and returns to being a bit naff? Who knows. But I will certainly now be more inclined to make time for new shows on the channel, even if they do rub up alongside Pop’s Greatest Dance Crazes.

Ian Hislop's Stiff Upper Lip - Review

 

Thursday October 4th, 2012

In the wake of a summer of Olympic fever (I can’t have been the only one weeping on my sofa as Jessica Ennis took her gold), and following the annual catastrophic breakdown of reserve in X Factor contestants as they are granted 5 minutes of fame before being relegated from human memory forever, the time seems ripe for a documentary investigating that old stereotype of the British stiff upper lip.

The culture of Keep Calm and Carry On seems to suggest that this is a part of our national character that we treasure, along with insane queuing skills. Ian Hislop, as self-assured as a brilliant if slightly intimidatingly clever history teacher, sets out in Stiff Upper Lip – an Emotional History of Britain to discover where this perception of the British came from, and whether it still rings true.

It is a fresh and interesting way to explore British history, and the opening episode of the series, focusing on the emergence of the stiff upper lip, navigated a dexterous course through art, literature and our national treasures in order to interrogate a history more difficult to pin down but arguably more enthralling than one involving facts and dates.

The conclusion of this enjoyable hour of television was that whilst prior to the late 18^th Century we were quite an excitable bunch, when the French Revolution kicked off we became rather alarmed at the apparent link between excessive emotion and radical politics. Faced with the terrifying prospect of becoming like the French (a fear that still resonates with Boris Johnson today), the British reacted by constructing a contrasting national character, embodied by the restrained heroes and heroines of Jane Austen and the reserved British icon the Duke of Wellington, a suitable opponent to the rather more vulgar Napoleon. By the mid-1800s the stiff upper lip had become entrenched in the national psyche, evolving into the infamously repressed Victorian era, which will be explored by Hislop next week.

A fascinating, if hardly groundbreaking, documentary, Stiff Upper Lip benefits hugely from its timely airing – basking in the warm glow from our greatest summer, we are experiencing unusual levels of national pride and are once more intrigued by what it means to be British. This, and Hislop’s confident and wry presentation, adds weight to what could have been a flimsy subject. I have to admit I was surprised to see that it had being stretched to a 3 part series – whether it holds quite enough interest for that remains to be seen. I will, however, tune in for the conclusion, to see if my screeches of excitement during the Olympic Opening Ceremony mean I should be packing my bags for a less reserved isle.

Mrs Biggs

5th September 2012

After growing up near the site of the Great Train Robbery and completing a school project on the incident at the age of 5 (though the fact that I referred throughout to “Rony Biggs” somewhat ruined the integrity of said project), I was pretty confident I knew all there was to know about the infamous crime. Mrs Biggs, ITV’s new five part drama, offered a welcome fresh perspective on the robbery, both for the general public and experts on “Rony” and his gang like myself.

By focusing on Ronnie and Charmian’s relationship, the opening episode of the series felt less like a retelling of a historic crime and more like an original and interesting drama. It is a testament to the quality of the programme that it never felt like we were impatiently waiting for the Robbery to happen, rather it was enjoyable simply watching the couple’s relationship develop.

This was down in no small part to a stellar cast, headed by superb performances from a charismatic Daniel Mays and an outstanding Sheridan Smith, practically unrecognisable as the straitlaced Charmian who is tempted over to the criminal life by the man she loves. Their contrasting worlds were swiftly and deftly established, and their romance felt believable. Though the shadow of the future crime hung heavily over the audience this was not at the expense of a well told love story – the moment when Biggs decides to turn himself in to the police sniffer dogs rather than risk Charmian freezing as they hid in a stream was wonderfully played.

Having the attention span of a goldfish, I was worried that at one and a half hours the episode would feel rather over long, in fact it was anything but. The robbery hadn’t even taken place by the end of the episode, and yet the pace never felt slow. I completely invested in Ronnie and Charmian’s marriage, so that by the time Biggs’s conspirator Bruce turns up, tempting him like a devil (albeit with large spectacles) on his shoulder, I appreciated the painful inevitability of what was going to happen to the domestic life of the Biggs all the more.

The cinematography throughout the episode was beautiful and atmospheric, building to a crescendo with the robbery at the end, moving swiftly through the details of the run up to the crime as it is a path that has been trodden many times before. This, after all, is the story of Mrs Biggs.

The drama brilliantly told the story of the people behind the Great Train Robbery. If nothing else it is arguably worth watching for Sheridan Smith’s effortless performance alone, but all round Mrs Biggs is a top quality drama of the sort that is usually all too rare on ITV.

Turn Back Time - The Family: End of Series Review

26th July 2012

Turn Back Time: The Family was one of those very rare beasts – a programme that managed to be both entertaining and informative as well as something the whole family could watch together. Three generations of my family enjoyed the programme, including my gran, who is not usually impressed by anything without Emmerdale, Coronation or Come Dancing in the title.

 The concept of the show was to transform a street to replicate a different era of the 20^th century each week, with families “living the lives of their ancestors”, meaning that the quality of life and type of home they lived in depended on what earlier generations of their family had experienced.

 For this final episode the families were sent back to the seventies, enduring not only the atrocious fashion and the furry wallpaper (yes, apparently that actually happened), but also the effects of the 3 day week and strike action, power cuts and water shortages. To reflect the change in divorce laws during the era, a new family led by a single mum joined the street, whose two boys quickly evaluated the seventies in all its frozen food glory as “disgusting”. They clearly hadn’t seen the hilarious ‘Action Cook Book’ being used by the Taylor household – never had an attempt to get men into the kitchen been more transparent: just put a gun on the cover, they’ll love it!

 By tackling 20^th century history through the focal point of the family, the BBC produced a lovely, engrossing and quietly brilliant series. The winning formula of the show can be attributed to the fantastic choice of participants, all game for whatever history threw at them, and the seamless production, which utterly immersed the families in the past. Trying to recreate the terror of World War Two air raids in 2012 is no mean feat, but the show went the whole hog and imitated the effects of a bomb by trashing one of the houses. If success is measured by expressions of genuine fear on the children’s faces, then it definitely worked.

 There is a temptation nowadays to blame computers and TV dinners for the break-up of the family. What Turn Back Time managed to do superbly was examine the past without rose tinted spectacles, and to allow the families to make their own judgements on whether life really was better in the old days. The series hasn’t shied away from controversial and shameful aspects of British history, introducing a black family onto the street in the 60s and replicating the prejudice and squalid conditions their grandparents would have faced when they immigrated to Britain. In the end, many of the families felt that 2012 was a pretty good time to live, all things considered.

The show succeeded in reminding us in a non-preachy way just how good we have it in the 21^st century, and though we may have tough times to deal with, in the past things could be a lot worse. After all, nothing quite spells hardship like the delicate discussion of how to adapt toilet use during a water shortage.