From September to November last year, Netflix had an average audience of 43.2 million and BBC1 42.3 million. Normal business is expected to resume when the Christmas ratings are taken into account. While no one is disputing that Auntie won the battle on the big day with Gavin, Stacey, Wallace and Gromit, the general direction of the war favours the paid for streaming platforms (not that the licence-fee funded BBC is free, but you know what I mean).
The smartest, coolest show on television returned this week and yes, it is on a streaming platform. Severance (Apple TV+ from Friday), directed by Ben Stiller, created by Dan Erickson and starring Adam Scott (Parks and Recreation), is a workplace comedy drama set in a dystopian future. Admittedly, it doesn’t sound like a lot of laughs, but it is quite the finest thing since The Office.
Severance is set in a mega-corporation so keen to squeeze every ounce of productivity from its staff it splits their lives in two. Employees are one version of themselves inside the office (“innie”) and another outside (“outie”). Neither knows in detail about the other and so cannot be distracted by their woes, which suits grieving Mark S (Adam Scott) just fine. Eight hours sitting at a computer doing the same task over and over brings him and others a kind of peace. But what is it they are doing exactly? What do all those crunched numbers mean?
It sounds like a head-nipper but it is not. Courtesy of a terrific cast, which also includes John Turturro, and brilliant writing, the craziness makes perfect sense.
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Also returning for a second series was The Dry (ITV1, Sunday, below), Nancy Harris’s cheery tale of a recovering alcoholic and her messed-up family. I’m serious about the cheery part – there’s some top-level misery running through this Dublin-set comedy drama but it has a big heart and laughs besides.
It is seven months since an off-the-wagon Shiv (Roisin Gallagher) delivered *that* speech at her sister’s engagement party. Now there’s another bash being organised, this one for her 36th birthday – the same age, a relative tells her, that Marilyn Monroe was when she died.
Back living at home with her parents, stuck in a boring job, and with yet another failed relationship behind her, Shiv’s having trouble drumming up enthusiasm for anything never mind a birthday party that, by order of mum’s new self-help guru boyfriend, is to be “dry”.
(Image: ITV1)
With the magnificent Pom Boyd and Ciaran Hinds playing the parents, The Dry aces the difficult second series test, so much so that a third run has already been announced.
Okay, play nice, what did you think of the finale of Playing Nice (ITV1, Sunday-Monday, below)? Some viewers seemed to spit the dummy about this tale of two sets of parents finding out they had come home from the maternity ward with the wrong babies. Too far-fetched was the gist of the complaints. That’s drama for you, full of people making stuff up. I’d go with “enjoyably schlocky” myself.
For my money the Scots saved the day – James McCardle as an utter swine, and Maureen Beattie as a late addition to the fray. I can’t have been the only one watching through my fingers as the scene on the clifftops played out. Miles didn’t do much for the reputation of alpha male Weegies, but McArdle’s performance should do wonders for his career.
(Image: ITV1)
In a crowded market for true crime documentaries, 24 Hours in Police Custody (Channel 4, Monday) continues to lead the pack with its innovative storytelling style and choice of subjects. This episode, titled The Norfolk Narco Cartel, began with a routine car check. The driver, Toby, a nurse by trade, had been at an all-night party. His car was a mess, a bit like himself, but he was a genial enough sort, keen to help. Oh, and there was enough crystal meth in the car to fuel an episode of Breaking Bad.
From Toby the story spun outwards to take in two more finds of the hitherto rarely encountered drug. All part of the effort by Mexican drug gangs to widen their markets said one officer, which would be seriously bad news if they succeeded.
These were the minor players in an international trade. One clearly knew the ropes, asking to see a solicitor as soon as the police came through the door. Another, up to his eyes in debt, was more pathetic than sinister. All were remarkably polite. Toby told the custody sergeant “your guys” had been “brilliant”, as though he was leaving a review on Tripadvisor.