Paranoid tv series4/25/2023 ![]() He unwisely signed off on with, sigh, 'If you thought conceptual art was crap, here’s the proof.' Hancock lives indeedĭescribing his client, Finchley’s lawyer quotes Paul Gambaccini’s line about being made “human flypaper” after police leaked details of his arrest (and incidentally isn’t it great to hear Gambaccini back on Radio 4’s Counterpoint?). Most media, of course, as in their salacious real life, headlined the sex, rather than the abuse. ![]() And the smaller ones about the press, and the police. How to distinguish between bruised egos and actual filthy abuse. I’m still unsure about Julie Walters: like her though I do, I can’t help but go, always, “Oh, that’s Julie Walters, acting someone”: she nails it as the wronged, forgiving, Christian wife, yet is still Julie Walters, acting someone.īut much of this is, of course, about the wider ramifications of Yewtree, and the large questions we have to currently ask ourselves about gradations of sexual incursion and social robustness. The effect on his family is well imagined: Andrea Riseborough exudes spiky fragility as a truly damaged daughter. It is, as if you didn’t know, the tale of a big but fading star (Paul Finchley played by Coltrane), accused of historical rape. Sometimes I wonder what it is about players who honed themselves on 80s comedy proving so adept at serious-chops High Acting, and presumably it’s the fact that the better sketch shows demand much dextrous and credible plasticity: Coltrane, Hugh Laurie, Lenny Henry, Tim McInnerny, who as Coltrane’s double-act partner is the perfect foil, a one-man Greek chorus, but might just wander centre stage before this is over, and from the side ad sinistra.Īndrea Riseborough, Robbie Coltrane and Julie Walters in Jack Thorne’s National Treasure: ‘sheer quality’. Undoubtedly it is, but that’s to detract a little from the sheer quality of Jack Thorne’s script and his ear for a truthful line, the sort said by actual people, never mind his success in luring the phenomenal Robbie Coltrane back to telly. It’s an eight-parter – I’ve watched the next two and it just gets better – so will see me through until bonfire night, with promises of a huge German pharma-conspiracy.Ĭhannel 4’s new four-part drama National Treasure has been dogged slightly by being labelled as An Important Drama for most of the past month. There are layers upon the twists, an early Escher doodle and a lot to come. There was also cop Robert Glenister, suffering the kind of panic attacks that might have unseated Thor, wandering for solace into the arms of Lesley Sharp, a surprising but fine casting decision: she’s wonderful, but is she a true, kind Quaker or a Blue Meanie? “But I want kids,” she shouts to his retreating back: the boyfriend may have been nondescript but his sperm were apparently people. What is it about players who honed themselves on 80s comedy proving so adept at serious-chops High Acting?Ĭhiefly through Indira Varma, who plays a stroppy cop just dumped by her partner. ![]() It’s too early to say whether it might be another Happy Valley, but it might take a bronze. But this thundered its way on with speed into a tight police procedural with knotty twists: and also the humanity of the best cop dramas. This was the first sign of promise: too many other dramas have ramped, with slo-mo retro, the killings of women. It was sudden and it was gruesome but it was over, didn’t linger. Paranoid began nastily on ITV: there was a stabbing of a female doctor in a safe play park.
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