http://www.scotsman.com/lifestyle/tv-and-radio
THE
FOLLOWING
Tuesday,
Sky Atlantic, 10pm
LOUIE
Tuesday,
FOX, 9pm
BOB
SERVANT, INDEPENDENT
Wednesday,
BBC4, 10pm
CALL
THE MIDWIFE
Sunday,
BBC1, 8pm
Paul
Whitelaw
Serial
killers are such overweening nuisances, aren't they? So tiresomely
theatrical, and the mess they leave! Thank goodness, then, that the
likes of mobile network hawker Kevin Bacon are on hand to clean up
after them.
In
Sky's latest US import, THE FOLLOWING, the
six-degrees-of-himself icon plays Ryan Hardy, a former FBI agent and
world-weary alcoholic who's hoisted back into service as an expert
consultant when his arch nemesis, Professor Joe Carroll, escapes from
prison. A flamboyant serial killer obsessed with Edgar Allan Poe –
aren't they all? - this smirking lunatic regards his crimes as a
poetic work in progress, which comes in incredibly handy when one is
tasked with piecing together his helpfully scattered clues.
But
matters are complicated somewhat by Hardy's damaged disposition.
Saddled with a pacemaker after being stabbed in the heart, he then
went on to muddy the waters by becoming romantically involved with
Carroll's wife. Dammit, Hardy, don't you know you should never make
things personal? He's also haunted by guilt, hence his frenzied
determination to protect the endangered women who escaped Carroll's
previous attacks.
Created
by Kevin Williamson (Scream; Dawson's Creek), The
Following's sole original hook is that Carroll has accrued a
devoted fan-base eager to do his bidding. If you were feeling
charitable, you could argue that, in its entirely ham-fisted way,
it's trying to say something meaningful about society's unhealthy
obsession with serial killers. And what better way to make that point
than with a knuckle-headed drama feeding into that very obsession?
Generic
to a fault – it's essentially Charlie Brooker's cop show spoof A
Touch of Cloth played straight – this gratuitously nasty tumult
of hokum gobbles up the dregs of every post-Hannibal Lecter serial
killer thriller and vomits them violently across the wall.
Waterlogged with cheap jump-scares, borrowed visuals and clunky
exposition, it's a slick, silly mess. What's most baffling is that
Williamson, who famously subverted the tropes of the horror genre in
Scream, has gone on to create a TV show almost entirely
composed of clichés.
Sticking
with Murdoch's evil empire for a moment, we come to the belated UK
début of LOUIE. This sitcom starring the comedian's comedian
Louis CK first aired in the US three years ago, but it's been more
than worth the wait.
One
of the few stand-ups who can drive me into hysterics – indeed, I'd
place him up there with the sainted likes of Richard Pryor – CK is
a devastating craftsman whose unique combination of brutal frankness,
casual charm and acute intelligence is given free reign in this
self-penned and directed vehicle.
The
melancholy misadventures of a balding, overweight, middle-aged
divorcee with two young daughters, Louie takes the brazenly
autobiographical strains of his stand-up routines and harnesses them
into a loose series of vignettes. Vaguely redolent of an indie cinema
Curb Your Enthusiasm, albeit more understated and with flashes
of surrealism, it benefits from being an authored piece from an
artist with the inner confidence to move at his own sweet,
uncompromising pace.
If
you're unfamiliar with CK's work, then his winning brand of cheerful,
filthy fatalism might take a bit of getting used to. But if and when
he clicks, you may find you have a new hero. Personally, I could
happily wallow in his uncomfortable world for hours.
From
New York to Broughty Ferry, the picturesque suburb of Dundee that BOB
SERVANT, INDEPENDENT calls home. The TV début of a character
previously established in a BBC Radio Scotland series and a popular
range of books, this likeable and amusing sitcom stars Brian Cox as a
vain, deluded, self-serving businessman who decides to stand in a
local by-election. The only drawbacks are his political ignorance,
his egregious personality, and his exceedingly dim view of the
electorate.
Having
previously played Servant on radio, Cox is clearly having a whale of
a time in the role, and his relish is infectious. An idiotic, roaring
blow-hard, Servant is a welcome addition to our rich history of
sitcom monsters. He may even do for Dundee what Alan Partridge did
for Norwich. Please don't ask me if that's a good thing or not.
It
may have been one of the biggest TV hits of 2012, but simpering
period drama CALL THE MIDWIFE leaves me colder than a bucket
of stale gruel. Back for a second series, it strikes me as incredibly
contrived and cynical in the way it dutifully embodies all the
requirements of a mums-and-grannies-focused Sunday night drama.
Not
that its curious recipe of cloying sentimentality and screaming
misery isn't distinctive. I certainly can't think of another TV
equivalent of a blood-smeared Hallmark greeting card. But while it
doesn't shy away from the harsh realities of its era – indeed, it
almost revels in them - it also can't hide its underlying sense of
idealised nostalgia.
It
also doesn't help that it's rigidly formulaic. The latest episode is
the usual dreary hodgepodge of glacial calamity, as everyone gets
used to the introduction of anaesthetic gas, and the monumentally
bland lead comes to the aid of a battered wife. But it all turns out
fine in the end, you'll be pleased to hear.
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