Brookside Brookside

[Mel O'Drama]

I don’t know if anyone was aware, or even cared. This week is the first anniversary of re-watching the soap.

I know I got a late start because I spent the first half of 2023 getting stuck into Crossroads, but even so I remember @Carrie Fairchild posting the exciting news about it in this thread and it seems no time at all.

At first I wanted 10 episodes a week, then I wanted them all available so I could watch at a faster pace.

I really loved those first few immersive months of catching up with STV's episodes and practically living and breathing the series. I thought I'd really struggle to cope with just 5 a week and thought about stopping watching altogether for a while to accumulate more episodes to binge. As it turns out, I've grown to really like the rhythm of catching up with the week's episodes over 2 or 3 nights late in the week or over the weekend and mixing it up with other stuff.

Speaking of bingeing Brookie, I wonder how @Whovian's watch is going.

Putting my greediness aside, I’m more than happy with 5 episodes a week, mainly because of Mel’s thoughtful and highly enjoyable posts.

Oh gosh. I really wasn't expecting to be the main reason, but that's lovely that it's cushioned the blow for you.

If all episodes were available we would be at different places and the flow of conversation wouldn’t be as it is.

I know what you mean. From the big Sons and Daughters thread and last year's Xrds marathon I know it can work and be enjoyable when people are at different places in the series, but because I don't really watch any "live" TV anymore Brookside marks the first time in many years I've got close to having any kind of "water cooler" talk with people who've just watched the same episodes. It feels exciting and nostalgic.

In 12 months we have seen the end of ‘82, right through to the beginning of summer ‘85.

Here’s to the next 12 months.

It's really eye-opening. By this time next year we'll be in Damon & Debbie territory and probably beyond.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Episodes 281 - 285
8 - 22 July 1985​

Sheila and Bobby’s problems have certainly been shown in real time. It’s over seven months since Claire was born and the gap’s only widened since then.

There’s a bit of a pattern with the Grants where either there’s a resolution followed by a holiday away from the Close or a holiday followed by a resolution. The latter formed an earlier part of this story when Sheila went to stay with her sister (I think) and returned somewhat lifted from her post-natal depression. This time round, it’s the resolution-holiday route when Sheila has a breakthrough after speaking to a more liberal member of the clergy regarding Bobby’s vasectomy.

The conversation is rather fascinating. It’s clear Sheila wants to be given the green light but at the same time doesn’t want to to be too easy, so she challenges Father Gibbons on his more liberal views, telling him he’s the one looking for an easy route out. And he practically admits to her his envy that, unlike him, she can choose to enjoy sex if she wants. She gets her green light, but in an unexpected way.

Now she’s made that long walk across the landing back to the marital bed, but this is immediately followed by a break since a holiday in Tenby is agreed and Sheila decides to go on ahead to visit her sister while Bobby wraps up work (these breaks, presumably, to recharge the actors’ energies after weeks or months of draining scenes). I really like that their deep, meaningful talk comes as they sit on the back doorstep, the dustbin in the background grounding them in a kind of reality even as they enjoy the bliss of the reunion. Along similar lines as Sheila made her phone call to reach Father Gibbons in the first place, she had to contend with the distraction of Damon banging on the window and mouthing some request or other to her, unaware of the importance of her call.

Damon’s been enjoyable. There was a terrific role reversal when he came home from work with Bobby and Sheila away to find the house in a state, and Neil lazing round. Damon started complaining about the dishes and the state of the carpet and demanding to know why his dinner wasn’t ready, and it’s a cute little reminder of how far he’s come since he was getting it in the neck from Sheila or Bobby. Plus we got the “divorce” scene between Neil and Damon.

Now, with the house to himself, he and Neil intend to enjoy it with the two girls with whom they’ve hooked up, with a seance planned. I remember the seance because of its proximity to another event on the Close which is coming up next week.

Over at number 9, Heather’s bliss with Tom has been disturbed by her seeing him leaving the office giving affectionate gazes at a young woman who turned out to be his daughter. While Heather’s initial sulking, avoiding his phone calls and eventually challenging him over his dishonesty was all in character, I was very surprised how easily she was won over even after finding out that he’s kept his daughter a secret from his father for seventeen years. She’s pleased that he’s entrusted her with something that he hasn’t even told his father and sees this as deepening their intimacy, without seeming to consider that if he can so easily justify his lies to his father he can do the same to her. This echoes the slightly surprising attitude of Brookie’s other key liberated female Karen Grant in this run of episodes. She is delighted he has dumped the girlfriend he’s been two-timing with her, without seeming to consider that this might be part of a pattern. Even Sheila seems genuinely happy about this turn of events, without even a flicker of parental concern.

It’s difficult to know if both Heather and Karen are conveniently overlooking the big picture, or if they’re actually incredibly smart and realises that her compassionate approach could prevent such a situation in the first place. Perhaps the very human truth is somewhere in between the two. It certainly suggests a change of outlook, since I couldn’t imagine Heather letting poor Roger off the hook so easily, nor Karen finding this acceptable from boyfriends she's had more recently. However, Karen did acknowledge that David's situation is similar to the one in which she found herself not so long back, so there's also a degree of empathy there. And at least she's not guilty of having double standards around this.

The big news at number 6 has been Harry and Ralph’s purchase of a Fiesta from an auction. Cue comic scenes of Harry strapping cash to various parts of his anatomy to conceal it as he heads to pay for it. While a lower spec, low-mileage Fiesta is certainly sensible enough for Harry, the nasty lilac colour, go faster stripes and windscreen banner all suggest it was previously owned by a boy racer (there’s a nice moment where Ralph reaches to the banner and rips off the “B” in “Barry” to tailor it for its new owner). And I certainly hope they checked under those furry seat covers to make sure there weren’t blim holes in the upholstery.

Russell Grant is a most unlikely guest-star for the series at this point. The cheerful, cosy, camp image seems so at odds with the realism of the series. But then he’s also exactly the type of personality who would open a reasonably modest hospital fete, and I dare say he’s interacted with many Damons and Ednas on such occasions and knows exactly how to relate and entertain, so we're well within the realm of credence here. His role was kept right-sized, but there was a nice little bit of business where Damon asked him to help find Edna wife who was lost. And, naturally, Damon had attempted to impress his and Neil’s new girlfriends by telling them “our Russ” was Damon’s cousin, hence the shared surname.

The other key arrival at the fete was John Clarke. My goodness… things certainly escalated quickly, facilitated in no small part by bolshy drama queen Sandra who by the end of the next episode was screeching “Hee the hail do ya thunk y'are” at the poor bewildered man (who had, admittedly, stalked the nurses and shown up at their home). Equally understanding is Harry Cross who professed his sympathy for the mentally ill… until he found out about the planned halfway house behind the Close and started projecting about them drooling at the window and scaring Edna.

The most compassionate character has been Kate. In many ways this really has been her week to shine as the voice of reason and empathy. The cry to rally neighbours' support regarding the proposed halfway house came from her. And her kindness towards John is no doubt a factor in him gravitating towards them.

Kate’s open-mindedness has been key this week, and this extended to a brief-but-insightful conversation with Damon where they touched on the subject of spiritual belief as they walked into the Close together. He told her that he didn’t believe in anything, prompting Kate to discuss ley lines, and Glastonbury Tor. Implicitly, it seems she’s telling us she believes in energy… unseen forces which move inexorably towards very specific points where it becomes almost tangible. Watching this with the benefit of hindsight, it’s difficult not to read a deeper meaning.

The week ended with Kate outside number 7 on a warm July evening, looking with concern at the empty Close from which John Clarke has vanished, mysteriously quickly. The atmosphere of the moment combined with the knowledge of what's to come could easily convince me there are potent - perhaps even preternatural - forces driving things forward as inevitably as ley lines.

The week’s most prophetic-stroke-ironic line came from Kate. Upon witnessing Pat and Sandra’s poor performance at the coconut shy, Kate said it was a shame it wasn’t a shooting gallery because: “I’m good with guns”.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Episode 286
23rd July 1985​

This week I’m testing my willpower by aiming to restrict myself to four episodes over at least as many evenings. The aim is to give each episode the best chance to impact and resonate, but we’ll see.

I’m pretty sure the titles usually credit the main cast first, alphabetically by character surname, then follows the rest of the cast. #286 is possibly notable for featuring only two series regulars (only one of whom is an original): Heather and Harold. The nurses, John Clarke, Tom Curzon and his dad and finally dull old Ralph are tagged on after them. I haven’t been keeping score, but is this a record?

In the Close, the “summer evening” feel continues, primarily embodied by Heather. She bats off Pat’s tedious banter as he stops to help her unload the Scirocco (to his suggestion that Tom is his rival for her affection, she matter of factly replies with a cursory smile that Tom is winning hands down); then she spends time with Tom in the garden and later serves up a meal and wine to Tom and Jim to round off their game of bowls.

It’s quite a different story inside where it’s all about tension. Even number 7’s introductory shot of a kettle boiling and a coffee being prepared felt somehow threatening.

As with the previous episode, the speed with which things escalated felt surprisingly quick. Pretty much the only scenes in which the nurses have featured in the last couple of episodes have been those in which they encounter John Clarke. We ended the previous episode with the big blowup, and we began this one with John’s return to “apologise”.

Sandra was alone and it only occurred to me after the episode that this wasn’t coincidence. John’s been stalking them and no doubt knows their whereabouts pretty well. Knowing where this is heading, you’d think this would have been foremost on my mind, but no… I’d have been as taken off-guard as Sandra appeared to be.

By the time the mid-episode break arrived, all three nurses had duly arrived and John had produced his gun. Admittedly I’ve been watching the series at over twice the pace it was originally intended to be seen, but this really does feel quick. I can’t help feeling that this story could have been fleshed out a little by spacing out the encounters with John and seeing more of the build up to the siege.

Dramatic as things became once the gun was produced (especially by the standards of the day where armed maniacs weren’t two a penny), I actually found the first half of the episode far more interesting. There are a few reasons for this: firstly, there’s the feeling that something is about to happen, without there being any explicit in-canon certainty of this. The air of tension and the undercurrent of something dark and unknown are arguably more layered and even dramatically interesting than when things kick up a gear, the threat is known and everyone switches into battle mode. John lurking with intent is also a far more relatable threat to most viewers (certainly to this viewer). Very few of us have had anything to do with guns, but many will have had unwelcome house guests or felt in some way threatened by someone whose unpredictable behaviour and temperament is outside those of social norms. All of which lends credence to the situation.

As much time as we’ve spent with them, it feels to me we barely know the nurses. In most ways this isn’t especially helpful, since seeing them in this situation carries far less emotional weight than if it took place in any other household (barring number ten, whose current occupants make visits there soul destroying). Putting it harshly, the nurses feel at times like little more than hollow cyphers. On the other hand this has actually opened up a little room for dramatic shifts because, knowing them only a little, their responses aren’t going to be predictable.

In this episode alone, I found my sympathies shifting regularly based on where we were. After the last episode’s histrionics, Sandra redeemed herself at the beginning by greeting John warmly and appearing to be willing to let bygones be bygones. There was even a vulnerability to her as it became apparent John wasn’t going to leave. By the last third of the episode she was revelling in the drama… goading and emasculating John with a grin on her face. It occurred to me that the difference between the start point and the finish point was the presence of Pat and Kate. Sandra is the kind of drama queen who needs both an audience and people to back her up in order to perform. Once they were both there, she became emboldened to push back.

It could be implied that Sandra with her background of domestic violence is in some way triggered by the situation. At one point she is laughing and crying at the same time, but somehow this just comes across as more drama queenery (it reminded me of annoying screaming Jackie from Jaws 2’s reaction of “relief” upon seeing the shark destroyed, which didn’t help).

Of course, the scenario requires a Sandra, really. So far Kate and Pat have been fairly compliant - almost passively so. They are using their brains and attempting psychology and reason to diffuse the situation. And every time things look like moving towards any kind of understanding, Sandra can’t stand the lack of drama and drives hard to stir it up again. Most of us probably know a Sandra or two, though I avoid them like the plague in real life. Even when John was tying her up, he had barely touched her when she screamed out that she was in pain (not unlike overpaid footballers who roll round on the ground for the cameras if another player gets within three feet of them).

What comes next is quite possibly as much Sandra’s doing as John’s. But you just know she’ll get the guilts and it will still be all about her.

Of the three, Kate is the one who has my sympathy. She’s smart, calm and radiating empathy and - unlike the other two - seems to be thinking of others beside just herself in her responses. Already I’m feeling disappointed by what lies just ahead.

John’s arc does feel as though it came out of nowhere and while things can happen this way, I do find myself wishing there’d been more pipe laying ahead of this. Just as we saw George draw the map for Tommy McArdle, I’d have appreciated a scene or two of John visiting his mother at the hospital some weeks before. The scene could have ostensibly been about Kate or Sandra being under stress or whatever, with John very much in the background, but it would have set up this story and character so much more solidly.

All the same, there’s no denying that Robert Pugh is a terrific performer and has fleshed out the character as well as can be in such a short space of time. I marvel at the way he can appear meek and passive at times while at others he’s intense and terrifying. And, as the first half of this episode shows, the journey from one to the other is delivered perfectly.

Something that struck me about this episode was how well John played the game when it came to getting back into the house. When Sandra ran back in from the front door to switch of the kettle, I expected her to then find he’d made his way into the living room. Having him still waiting politely at the doorstep felt like a wonderful piece of misdirection.

Any good thriller needs its observers: the rational ones who put the pieces together by being apart from those in the thick of things. In this episode, Heather was briefly bemused by the 2CV6 still being on the drive when Pat had mentioned plans to go out. Her concerns were quickly allayed by Tom’s observation that they might not take the car if they were drinking. We know that Pat had specifically mentioned taking the car to Heather, but she’s not one of nature’s snoops so I read it that the idea of very human fickleness was enough for her (not that she'd be that interested if it weren't, given she still mostly operates on early Brookie's ethos of detachment from neighbours and their business). Harry is another matter. After first hearing raised voices and then being alarmed by Pat’s fast agreement to their rent hike, he’s watching the outside of the house like a hawk.

If I’m remembering correctly, this episode wasn’t included on The Siege VHS (with all three releases of the time each containing three episodes) and that’s a shame because #286 feels like an essential part of this picture.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Episode 287
29th July 1985​

This being - as I remember - the first episode on The Siege VHS, #287 is the point from which I’ve most rewatched this story. Starting here, it would be easy to watch the dynamics and listen to comments made by characters and assume that the hostage situation has had significantly more screen-time than just the second half of the previous episode.

Looking at the dates, I realise this is because the days have probably gone by more or less in real time. The previous episode was transmitted six days before this and so we’ve missed a lot. Indeed, I had to double-and-triple-check the episode numbers to ensure I hadn’t skipped some as that’s very much the feeling from watching this after #286.

When we left, the situation was just beginning. As we pick up, routines are entrenched and the pressure that’s been building offscreen is tangible.

Andrew Lynch does a nice enough job with the details which are so key to selling this story. In the opening scene, Kate tells John he’s a “good boy” for bringing her a cup of tea. He smiles and remembers how his mother used to say that to him every day. It’s not the subtlest of writing, but that’s entirely forgivable when it’s this credible and tells us volumes about the relationship between both characters. In particular it’s implicitly informing us that Kate has been establishing a connection and gaining knowledge that might be helpful in diffusing the situation and allowing her to reach their captor.

Discussing the last episode, I mentioned the observers who notice changes in rhythms and patterns. Then it was Heather and Harry. Harry is still observing here, and trades his information with Annabelle who is #287's key observer. The key difference between these two is that Harry is observing from an insular point of view. While he’s not uncaring, his key motivation in wanting to know more is to check it doesn’t affect him.

Annabelle, meanwhile, is genuinely concerned about the nurses’ washing being kept on the line for days on end and their unusual lack of activity outside the confines of the house. This is compounded when she knocks on the door and Kate, acting strangely, twice calls her “Bella”. She also hears Kate has apparently enjoyed the chicken delivered by the milkman (I’ve previously mentioned Kate being a bad vegetarian for her lack of concern over meat juices contaminating her food, but I’ll go easy on her here since a volatile gunman is as good a reason as any to suffer a complete relapse into carnivorism).

Paul scoffs at Annabelle’s concerns, telling her she’s being silly and that the police would laugh at her “evidence”. In common with Harry, so long as they are quiet and their conduct doesn’t affect him he doesn’t care what the neighbours are doing. Harry even comments “I’ll take a shedful of that” in response to Annabelle’s concerns that it’s eerily quiet. If their attitude can best be summarised as basic nimbyism, it adds an almost painful irony to the fact that Kate tapped into this in order to send a coded message to Annabelle. Previously the driving force of enlightening the Close on the importance of the planned halfway house, Kate declares to Annabelle that the three have democratically decided that they oppose the idea and will get behind Annabelle’s drive to oppose the plans.

If there’s an observer inside the house, it’s Kate. Now that he’s no longer stalking, John’s need to observe has gone. His one concession in this department was attempting to coerce a bizarre performance from his three captives, ordering them in the previous episode to speak about him as though he were in the next room. Kate’s observation, though has continued and it would seem to set her up as our final girl for this story. The final girl is the one who always survives such horrors, while her self-involved hedonistic peers pay the price for their lack of observation.

Pat and Sandra definitely lean more into the latter category. In general, Pat is more on-board with Kate’s attempts to reason than with Sandra’s histrionics. He’s kind of the middle man, but he’s also been pretty useless. He’s done very little barring lying on the sofa and licking his lips constantly to look as though he’s parched. OK, he’s been pistol whipped a little, but even this came about because of his own actions in his moment of trying to reach out to people. Unlike Kate’s coded messages, Pat simply attempted to climb from the bathroom window while John had a gun to his two housemates on the landing. Pretty clunky and none too clever. Pat has spent most of his time in captivity feeling sorry for himself and thinking about what he is missing. Much time was devoted in this episode to Pat wanting to attend a job interview. Even with the recognition that this is Liverpool suffering under Thatcher’s regime, Pat’s concern over missing out demonstrates a peculiar sense of priorities.

Meanwhile, I’m wondering if Sandra’s behaviour is more stupidity or lack of understanding than deliberate sabotage. Again and again she escalates the situation, and I wonder if it’s because she lacks the awareness to pick up on the subtleties. This is evident at the beginning of part two where the lines of communication are beginning to open:

What religion are you?

Baptist. Lapsed.

I didn’t know that.* I was born a Presbyterian, but now I’m an atheist.

Kate: Are you religious John?

John: Sometimes I used to take my mother. She was very keen. The minister said she was a lifelong churchgoer at her funeral. I wouldn’t have her cremated.

D’you think God would approve of what you’re doing?

It’s laughably sledgehammer. She picks up on the seed of doubt implied in Kate’s question and, rather than allowing it to work through John’s brain she drags it kicking and screaming out into the light and makes it a challenge that requires an immediate answer. My take here is that she didn’t have the emotional intelligence to understand what was going on and, fearful of missing an opening, took the most blatant approach. She’s so concerned with being right and being the one to get leverage that I doubt she even understands how consistently she undermines the fragile negotiations taking place. It’s just so Sandra.

This four and a half minute scene is one of the episode’s strongest for showing us exactly where the dynamics are in the house while telling us some of their past. By the end of it, John is calmly talking about his suicide ideation, and the fact that he shot his mother’s beloved dog to ensure it could stay with her. This simple reveal adds even more depth to the horror of their current situation, since we are now told that not only has he already taken a life with the gun he’s cradling, but he has nothing to lose himself.

Back when Kate and Damon painted the interior walls of the house, it looked quite out there. A different primary colour on each wall is certainly a bold choice and felt as though it needed a volume control. Those walls, though, are really coming into their own in these scenes of heightened drama. There are moments - like the one above - where different characters have different backdrops and it creates a sense of isolation. Likewise, there are close ups of characters where they have a different colour either side of them. Not only does this look theatrically striking, in John’s case - and he gets these close ups more than the others - it feels representative of his duality or inner conflict.

The icing on the cake is that these hopeful, vibrant colours are also Kate’s. Wholly appropriate since this feels very much like her story.

Elsewhere, Damon and Neil haven’t observed a blessed thing. You'd think their current sitcom-like séance preparations would jar when juxtaposed with the high drama (an audio tape rigged to a light switch is pretty cartoony), but they are hugely watchable and it all feels perfectly balanced.






* I couldn't help convincing myself that Kate will have told Sandra this before. Sandra probably just wasn't listening. And the sentence that immediately follows takes it right back to Sandra, which is entirely expected.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Episode 288
30th July 1985​

While the siege storyline might have come out of a cynical ploy to attract viewers and grab some attention back from BBC’s new soap baby EastEnders, as one of the viewers it attracted I’ve always regarded it fondly as my introduction to the series. From a historical perspective, as one of the series’ first over the top storylines (I remember Hilary Kingsley citing it in 1988 as Brookie’s only instance to that point of resorting to “absurd melodrama”) it could be viewed as a precursor to Nineties Brookie, but as a shocking interlude in a series that’s still a long way from exhausting the audience’s goodwill it works.

It’s certainly not perfect, and it occurs to me that the things that don’t work for me today are the things I was never particularly fond of. In short, it’s the scenes where the hostages get introspective and “share” with one another. These scenes have just never felt truthful to me. It feels like a kind of forced naturalism which ends up having the opposite effect to that intended. There are times where it feels overly stagey, and not in a good way.

Three and a half decades ago, I felt that finding these scenes a slog to get through was one of two things: either it was because it was done so well it was supposed to be difficult to watch or there were layers that I might grow to appreciate as I got older. Today I look at it rather differently, and just think these scenes aren’t the greatest.

With dialogue shared between the three hostages, the first ten minutes of #288 contains a lot of material that really ought to be the heart of the story but actually weakens it.

I’d say performances and writing both take some of the blame here, but the task on both fronts is made all the more difficult given the characters’ history on the series. I still don’t feel I know them. As a result, a lot of this stuff comes across as self-indulgence.

The character of Kate is better served in both performance and writing. As a character she is more level headed, which is always going to come across better. She’s also the character who says the least but when she speaks it makes sense. It’s hard to swear that Sharon Rosita is a better actress than her two peers, but she makes a better impression and she’s also very likeable. In terms of this particular sequence, Kate is removed from the room by John Clarke while Sandra and Pat stay tied up to whisper to one another.

I understand that they don’t want John to hear them, and that they’re meant to be exhausted, but it feels the actors are over-emoting to drive this point home with a sledgehammer. I also think there’s too much defeat in the performances that I simply don’t believe.

Pat furrows his brows and flares his nostrils and looks to the heavens sighs and whispers every line in a weary whine. And, in fairness to David Easter, he has an unenviable task since Pat is in full self-pitiful flight about how useless he’s been and how he was afraid for himself rather than the women. He speaks quietly and gulps extremely loudly (presumably the mic having to be that much closer to pick up the dialogue) and it all becomes a misophonic nightmare.

Then, when Pat decides to stand up to John, Sandra - who has been the one pushing for battle at every step - becomes so panicked at the thought she starts shrieking at him. And I find myself having to come up with yet another theory to try and make sense of her behaviour. Two episodes ago I decided she was a drama queen. In the last episode I thought she lacked the emotional intelligence to read the room. Now I find myself thinking she’s being deliberately perverse for maximum conflict. I dare say it’s a combination of all three. The end result still puts me in mind of Jaws 2's screaming Jackie: there's no situation so serious that it can't be made even more of a big deal with some histrionics.

The cause of Sandra flipping and inexplicably suddenly wanting to reach John with reason is Pat slipping his bonds and the writing and performances lean into all the one-dimensional cliches around this. Pat grits his teeth and struggles in pretend pain. It’s all from the school of cheesy American drama (perhaps understandable given there isn’t much in the line of an earthy frame of reference for this kind of outlandish escapade).

The rope-slipping writing is filled with innuendo. Pat writhes and contorts his face and opens and closes his eyes as he uses breathy tones to urgently encourage Sandra who is doing something just out of sight:

You see that? You see? …Come on. Come on. Grab it, Sand. Come on. Sand. Come on. Pull. Pull. Pull. Keep pulling. Come on. Nearly. Go on. It’s…

And then he ejaculates a groan of relief as Sandra achieves the desired result and he bursts free. I can’t decide if this parallel is deliberate. Perhaps it's writer or actor seeing how much they can get away with. Perhaps there’s a deep, subliminal context about the bond the situation is creating between Pat and Sandra. Or perhaps it’s just poorly executed. Still… it passed the time.

Andrew Lynch’s writing does feel a little off at other points. When, Pat asked John “Are you gonna shoot us?” within a minute of the police setting up their eavesdropping device, my first thought was: how convenient. They’ve been in this situation for over a week, and Pat suddenly decides this is the moment to ask the big question directly.

Incidentally, a day after I watched him as Jane Marple’s nephew in 4:50 From Paddington, David McAlister has shown up as one of the key officers who arrives in response to the Collinses’ call to the police. He’s really taking care of business this week.

Although I’ve been hard on the siege storyline today, in the context of the bigger picture it’s still working. John’s insane laugh reverberating over the soundtrack as we dissolve to a convoy of police cars hurtling towards the Close, passing the evacuated residents walking away is cinematically exciting and couldn’t fail to bring a viewer back to see what happens next.

Damon and Neil's séance was daft fun and I loved every comedic minute. Camilla is a hilarious character. It’s a bit of a shame to see that the two Brookside episodes are Dawn Brady’s only IMDb credits.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Episode 289
5th August 1985
​

Something that’s struck me on this rewatch is how well each episode has struck a balance between the darkness of the siege itself and more lighthearted fare. In recent episodes we’ve seen Harry stealthily raising Ralph’s rent as well as Damon and Neil’s séance.

As the intensity of the siege has increased, it feels the levity in other scenes has increased to match it. The siege reaches a critical point in #289, and there’s a whole lot of organic humour.

Much of this has come from the rather bizarre situation of most of our regular characters breakfasting under one roof as all the households are moved to a nearby hotel (the only absentees are Heather and Karen). We have Harry being minimal with his and Edna’s breakfast choices until he can be sure he’s not paying; Damon going to the other extreme and making the most of the scran on offer; Annabelle looking with horror at the fryups and commenting she's “taking a chance” even having just toast; Edna getting locked in the lav; Camilla showing up and dropping Damon in it just as he’d convinced Sheila and Bobby he was having a quiet night in when the police knocked.

With so much happening, we didn’t see the guests arriving at the accommodation, but we find out some details over breakfast, such as Ralph being given a double room while Harry got a single. There’s also Paul’s scoffed reply when asked if the Collinses' room has a view:

Oh, wonderful view: The Hairport.

What, Speke Airport?

Hairport. With an ‘H’.

It’s a hairdressers.

They do have some funny names these days.

Closer to the drama, the comedy is arguably even broader, with the nice sight gag of armed police surrounding the unsuspecting Sinbad while he is digging up the telly he’d buried in Heather’s garden.

Much is made of the surreal nature of what’s going on. Damon is thrilled to see the Close on TV during a news report from the scene (“Ey look - it’s us”), while shots of the Close - deserted but for armed men strategically placed on roofs and patrolling homes and gardens with their dogs - have an eerie and almost otherworldly quality. We even briefly see young armed officers making themselves at home in the Grants' living room.

After a bit of a lull in the previous episode, things are back to being gripping inside number 7. Pat and Sandra retain their stock siege facial expressions and deliveries but have a lot less dialogue.

I did find I had to suspend my disbelief a little when it came to the device of Kate speaking to John as though she was his mother and him buying into it (these reminded me of similar scenes in Psycho II), but once I was able to get on board with the fact that John appears to be suffering some kind of extreme psychosis or breakdown it worked.

This episode really did create that sense of John having painted himself into a corner from which it’s almost impossible to extricate himself. The closing scenes of the episode where it seems everything became real for him and he realised his mother was dead and he had no way out was a moment of tragedy and horror for both him and Kate.

Kate herself was full of compassion to the end. She put her friends’ safety before her own, making sure they were freed at the cost of her own freedom (those few moments where Kate stops play acting as John’s mother to urge them to go as she ushers them are quite moving with the benefit of hindsight). Ultimately, she also put John’s welfare ahead of her own and her last act in this episode was to attempt to stop him from harming himself.

Not a bad legacy, all told.

 

[James from London]

Sheila has a breakthrough after speaking to a more liberal member of the clergy regarding Bobby’s vasectomy.

The conversation is rather fascinating. It’s clear Sheila wants to be given the green light but at the same time doesn’t want to to be too easy, so she challenges Father Gibbons on his more liberal views, telling him he’s the one looking for an easy route out. And he practically admits to her his envy that, unlike him, she can choose to enjoy sex if she wants. She gets her green light, but in an unexpected way.

Father Gibbons crops up a few times over the years, and his conversations with Sheila are always fascinating. I'm pretty sure he was the priest Jimmy McGovern unsuccessfully lobbied to have an affair with Sheila. Eventually, he would use the same idea on The Lakes instead, where the priest was played by none other than everyone's favourite psycho, John Clarke. Meanwhile, Brookie would do its own watered-down teen-mag version of The Thorn Birds with the Farnhams' nanny Margaret and Dee Dee Dixon's brother.

Over at number 9, Heather’s bliss with Tom has been disturbed by her seeing him leaving the office giving affectionate gazes at a young woman who turned out to be his daughter. While Heather’s initial sulking, avoiding his phone calls and eventually challenging him over his dishonesty was all in character, I was very surprised how easily she was won over even after finding out that he’s kept his daughter a secret from his father for seventeen years. She’s pleased that he’s entrusted her with something that he hasn’t even told his father and sees this as deepening their intimacy, without seeming to consider that if he can so easily justify his lies to his father he can do the same to her.

Is this the most recognisably soapy story Brookside has done to this point? A long-lost daughter, a romantic misunderstanding, an established character stumbling upon a newcomer's dark family secret ... it totally works and it's totally enjoyable simply because you already believe in the three characters involved -- Heather, Tom and Tom's dad. Tom's dad is as effortlessly plausible in his own way as Roger's parents and Heather's cousin Will were, but Pat and Sandra, for all their screen time and Drama with a capital D, just stubbornly aren't.

Kate’s open-mindedness has been key this week, and this extended to a brief-but-insightful conversation with Damon where they touched on the subject of spiritual belief as they walked into the Close together. He told her that he didn’t believe in anything, prompting Kate to discuss ley lines, and Glastonbury Tor. Implicitly, it seems she’s telling us she believes in energy… unseen forces which move inexorably towards very specific points where it becomes almost tangible. Watching this with the benefit of hindsight, it’s difficult not to read a deeper meaning.

As I recall, this conversation takes place outside Number 10, on more or less the same spot where Petra made her final appearance, mumbling something to Damon about ghosts while he's mucking about with Gizmo. Petra, Damon, Kate, ghosts, forces, seances ... an awful lot of foreshadowing, some of it intentional, some of it not.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

I'm pretty sure he was the priest Jimmy McGovern unsuccessfully lobbied to have an affair with Sheila.

Well that certainly puts his comments into an even more fascinating light. It came across to me that Sheila was simultaneously uncomfortable with and fascinated by him and there was a really interesting energy between them that could be read as something more. Part of me feels relieved they didn't go this route, but Jimmy Mac was the driving force behind the idea and it involved the Grants there's so much potential for it to be golden.

Eventually, he would use the same idea on The Lakes instead, where the priest was played by none other than everyone's favourite psycho, John Clarke.

Well that's only deepened my curiosity to watch this one at some point.

Is this the most recognisably soapy story Brookside has done to this point? A long-lost daughter, a romantic misunderstanding, an established character stumbling upon a newcomer's dark family secret ...

I think it could well be, now you mention it.

Thinking about it, this story doesn't have a significant bearing on Heather as a character beyond the initial hiccup of the misunderstanding and it bringing her a little closer to Tom. There's potential for it to rear its head and become more important, of course, but it's an interesting choice to have this soapy revelation mainly affecting secondary characters. Actually, this angle could even be viewed as Crossroads-esque (think Sharon Metcalfe bonding with the daughter of her lover whose wife has just been killed in a motoring accident).

Tom's dad is as effortlessly plausible a character in his own way as Roger's parents and Heather's cousin Will were, but Pat and Sandra, for all their screen time and Drama with a capital D, still stubbornly aren't.

Amen to that.

As I recall, this conversation takes place outside Number 10, on more or less the same spot where Petra made her final appearance, mumbling something to Damon about ghosts while he's mucking about with Gizmo. Petra, Damon, Kate, ghosts, forces, seances ... an awful lot of foreshadowing, some of it intentional, some of it not.

Oh - you're spot on. I think I was so in the moment with it a lot of this hadn't even occurred to me. There's a whole lot to unpack there.

 

[James from London]

As much time as we’ve spent with them, it feels to me we barely know the nurses. In most ways this isn’t especially helpful, since seeing them in this situation carries far less emotional weight than if it took place in any other household (barring number ten, whose current occupants make visits there soul destroying). Putting it harshly, the nurses feel at times like little more than hollow cyphers. On the other hand this has actually opened up a little room for dramatic shifts because, knowing them only a little, their responses aren’t going to be predictable.

Yes, it’s hard to imagine this story happening in any other house on the close, at least not so generically. Because they’re so underdeveloped as characters, the nurses are pliable enough for the writers to place them in this situation without too much trouble. If this were happening to the Grants, say, it would be all, or mostly, about them. As it is, it’s all about the plot. The anonymity of the nurses allows us to see what happens when a series as grittily “real” as Brookside takes on a classic (and/or cliched) Hollywood scenario: it’s the juxtaposition between the two - the so-called real colliding with the so-called unreal - that’s so interesting.


Although she’s a hundred times better in every way, I feel like there’s a bit of a parallel between Ciji in Knots Season 4 and the nurses in this story. It's when both shows decided to go full soap (or melodrama) ahead, and having slightly less specifically-drawn characters at the centre of the plot allows the writers to move around them like chess pieces. (Ciji was lovely, but essentially a blank page onto which all the other characters could project their neuroses.)

It could be implied that Sandra with her background of domestic violence is in some way triggered by the situation. At one point she is laughing and crying at the same time, but somehow this just comes across as more drama queenery (it reminded me of annoying screaming Jackie from Jaws 2’s reaction of “relief” upon seeing the shark destroyed, which didn’t help).

Ha! I appreciate your attempts to make sense of Sandra. It feels as if she should make sense, just as the actress should be better than she is. There's a real strength and energy about her, but it's as if she misses the point of almost every scene she's in. It's like listening to a singer with a really powerful voice continually hitting the wrong note.

Pat and Sandra definitely lean more into the latter category. In general, Pat is more on-board with Kate’s attempts to reason than with Sandra’s histrionics. He’s kind of the middle man, but he’s also been pretty useless. He’s done very little barring lying on the sofa and licking his lips constantly to look as though he’s parched. OK, he’s been pistol whipped a little, but even this came about because of his own actions in his moment of trying to reach out to people. Unlike Kate’s coded messages, Pat simply attempted to climb from the bathroom window while John had a gun to his two housemates on the landing. Pretty clunky and none too clever. Pat has spent most of his time in captivity feeling sorry for himself and thinking about what he is missing. Much time was devoted in this episode to Pat wanting to attend a job interview. Even with the recognition that this is Liverpool suffering under Thatcher’s regime, Pat’s concern over missing out demonstrates a peculiar sense of priorities.

I do think this is Pat's finest hour, if only because he's tied up and isn't able to do very much. Him being penalised for non-attendance at the Job Centre and/or his job interview on account of being held hostage has always struck me as a nice little soap/reality collision . It also reminds me of the bureaucratic red tape Sue and Ali had to go through on Enders to both get their baby son declared dead and his child allowance cancelled a few months earlier. It all feels very '80s, very compassionless, very Thatcher, very "edgy soap".

Back when Kate and Damon painted the interior walls of the house, it looked quite out there. A different primary colour on each wall is certainly a bold choice and felt as though it needed a volume control. Those walls, though, are really coming into their own in these scenes of heightened drama. There are moments - like the one above - where different characters have different backdrops and it creates a sense of isolation. Likewise, there are close ups of characters where they have a different colour either side of them. Not only does this look theatrically striking, in John’s case - and he gets these close ups more than the others - it feels representative of his duality or inner conflict.

The icing on the cake is that these hopeful, vibrant colours are also Kate’s. Wholly appropriate since this feels very much like her story.

I love it!

It’s certainly not perfect, and it occurs to me that the things that don’t work for me today are the things I was never particularly fond of. In short, it’s the scenes where the hostages get introspective and “share” with one another. These scenes have just never felt truthful to me. It feels like a kind of forced naturalism which ends up having the opposite effect to that intended. There are times where it feels overly stagey, and not in a good way.

Three and a half decades ago, I felt that finding these scenes a slog to get through was one of two things: either it was because it was done so well it was supposed to be difficult to watch or there were layers that I might grow to appreciate as I got older. Today I look at it rather differently, and just think these scenes aren’t the greatest.

With dialogue shared between the three hostages, the first ten minutes of #288 contains a lot of material that really ought to be the heart of the story but actually weakens it.

I’d say performances and writing both take some of the blame here, but the task on both fronts is made all the more difficult given the characters’ history on the series. I still don’t feel I know them. As a result, a lot of this stuff comes across as self-indulgence.

I don't recall these scenes specifically, but I'm reminded of an interview with a writer who worked on both Crossroads and Coronation Street who said that you could write more or less the same dialogue on both shows and it would feel believable on Corrie because the premise of the series itself (a community of people living recognisable lives) fundamentally made solid, logical sense, but not on Crossroads because the premise of that show (an ad hoc selection of character who spend 80% of their lives hovering around a motel reception desk) fundamentally didn't. Same with Pat and Sandra: scratch the surface and there's nothing underneath. I think it all stems from the nurses' introductory scene where they're not so much characters as sitcom stooges who facilitate Harry's George Roper-style assumption that he's renting his house to three girls, one of whom is called Pat. They didn't convince as a living, breathing pre-existing threesome then, so why should they now?

It’s hard to swear that Sharon Rosita is a better actress than her two peers, but she makes a better impression and she’s also very likeable.

Well, she's clearly the only one of the three who knows what she's doing. Or is that because she's the only one playing a character who knows what she's doing? Either way, she was cast in that role for a reason. And she's the only one who you feel understands what the writers are asking of her, and they then respond in kind. By killing her.

Much is made of the surreal nature of what’s going on. Damon is thrilled to see the Close on TV during a news report from the scene (“Ey look - it’s us”), while shots of the Close - deserted but for armed men strategically placed on roofs and patrolling homes and gardens with their dogs - have an eerie and almost otherworldly quality. We even briefly see young armed officers making themselves at home in the Grants' living room.

Seeing armed police descend on the close gives me the same shivery feeling as watching the motel going up in flames on Crossroads or the first fifteen times the Vic burnt on down on Enders. And I love all the stuff at the B&B. I only wish we could have had more of it.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

If this were happening to the Grants, say, it would be all, or mostly, about them. As it is, it’s all about the plot.

Yes indeed. It's leaning far more into situation than character.

The anonymity of the nurses allows us to see what happens when a series as grittily “real” as Brookside takes on a classic (and/or cliched) Hollywood scenario: it’s the juxtaposition between the two - the so-called real colliding with the so-called unreal - that’s so interesting.

I like this take on things very much. And with this in mind, perhaps it's even a logical step for Brookie to take after its take on the underworld with the George Jackson story.

Although she’s a hundred times better in every way, I feel like there’s a bit of a parallel between Ciji in Knots Season 4 and the nurses in this story. It's when both shows decided to go full soap (or melodrama) ahead, and having slightly less specifically-drawn characters at the centre of the plot allows the writers to move around them like chess pieces.

And instead of congregating at Daniel, the Brookie crew descend on that B&B overlooking The Hairport.

it's as if she misses the point of almost every scene she's in. It's like listening to a singer with a really powerful voice continually hitting the wrong note.

Oh - that makes complete sense.

Him being penalised for non-attendance at the Job Centre and/or his job interview on account of being held hostage has always struck me as a nice little soap/reality collision .

I haven't got to this yet, but on paper this collision almost conjures up some of Acorn Antiques' throwaway lines ("Daddy's gone and got himself shot in Dakar again"). .

I think it all stems from the nurses' introductory scene where they're not so much characters as sitcom stooges who facilitate Harry's George Roper-style assumption that he's renting his house to three girls, one of whom is called Pat. They didn't convince as a living, breathing pre-existing threesome then, so why should they now?

All the same I find myself wondering why they didn't/haven't/don't convince and struggling to come up with a single reason (probably because there are many). It seems so strange considering everything going on around them and it's not like each household has a unique writer. It just seems to defy reason that they don't engage on the same level as the characters in surrounding scenes.

she's the only one who you feel understands what the writers are asking of her, and they then respond in kind. By killing her.

I suppose it was inevitable since Kate was the one who I felt any kind of care for. Perhaps it needed to be her to truly mean anything. It's always felt wasteful, though (but perhaps that's the point as well).

Kate always seemed so open and congruent, but at the same time she was perhaps the one we knew the least about. Which also left the possibility she was the one who had the most potential.

Seeing armed police descend on the close gives me the same shivery feeling as watching the motel going up in flames on Crossroads or the first fifteen times the Vic burnt on down Enders.

There's something incredibly powerful about seeing a place (or iconography) that seems so fundamental to the series suffering any kind of desecration.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

STV must really think the Corkhills are an important family. They've created a trailer heralding their arrival and are even running it mid-episode (a slightly curious choice considering it's reaching people who are already watching).

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Episodes 290 - 300
6 August - 10 September 1985​

After the drama of the siege, it feels as though we’re entering a new normal on Brookside. It’s not the case that life has changed that drastically for most as a result of the siege itself, but circumstances on the Close are going through some big changes regardless, with some significant comings and goings.

As is often the case, the “goings” feel more about those who are left than the people who’ve departed. This is certainly the case with Kate whose absence isn’t felt as much as it might be, partly due to the fact that she was a fairly low-profile presence anyway, but largely because we haven’t properly returned to life at Number Seven.

Pat and Sandra spent some time holed up with Terry at Number Ten (with Sandra finding time to have a blazing public row with Harry where she had to trump him over who was having the worst time). The gutter press angle has been interesting and given an idea of the sort of tactics employed by these rags to get a picture and a story - even Camilla got in on the action when she had a makeover and a press photoshoot on the Close - but as far as Sandra and Pat go it’s been all about the intimacy. They talk the talk when it comes to Kate - and even went so London to attend her funeral - but mostly it’s about them making goo-goo eyes at one another.

Sandra’s return to Glasgow gave us some nice backdrops - it’s always fun to visit a different location with Brookside characters - and I thought it interesting to hear her speaking to her mum about Liverpool, Pat and her life with some objectivity. But then Pat rocked up and it became about them again, first Sandra’s jealousy when a friend of hers flirted with Pat, then it just felt like a photo op with two photogenic people standing in the sun and falling in love. The timing of it feels rather tasteless. Somehow it seems to overshadow and diminish Kate’s death. I realise it’s not about Kate but perhaps that’s exactly why it feels so dismissive. I feel I’m missing something. There’s a very vague implication that the intensity of being held hostage has drawn them closer together, but equally they could be just two horny opportunists trying to make a shallow relationship seem more meaningful. Which is very human, I suppose.

Sandra’s first big barney with Harry was around the time Edna had a stroke. Upon their return, she launched a similar attack on him, not knowing Edna had died. Edna’s stroke was extremely well done. That visual of the smashed egg has been hard to shake, then there was the suspense that followed: Harry outside having a row with Damon outside while the camera occasionally showed us Edna lying on the floor through the window, with the kettle whistling furiously and the pan boiling away until it eventually burst into flames.

There’s been a political element to the story, highlighting NHS austerity with the GP arranging for Edna to stay at home because there are simply no hospital beds, and eventually having to settle for a bed in geriatrics.

It’s been a really nice touch that Kevin, Sally and Jessica have come up to Liverpool due to Edna’s stroke, and stayed for the funeral. All are great additions and I enjoy seeing them.

The storyline has given Betty Alberge a triumphant last hoorah and Bill Dean a chance to shine, and both have been great. Edna, at home in bed, struggling to mouth “I love you” to Harry was heartbreaking. And he said it in return. She - both of them, come to that - might have had a funny way of showing it in the time we’ve known them - but we know it’s true. Meanwhile, Harry has run true to form when it comes to the arrangements, refusing Annabelle’s suggestions as she caters the funeral tea and insisting on ham and tongue sandwiches. And her protests were countered with Harry asking her how many funerals she’d catered (this was her first).

The storyline has, unfortunately, set up Ralph (the worst best friend) to have more screen time. A lot of parallels can actually be made between Ralph and Terry, both of whom are ostensibly placid, amiable, helpful types but whose “help” usually benefits themselves at least as much. I’m finding both characters hard going at the moment. Terry’s fierce protective loyalty to Pat and Sandra seemed to come rather suddenly. I suppose it could be a case of closing ranks to protect a neighbour from outsiders, but it also could be read as Terry being attracted to the drama of the situation. And it did come just as he was under threat of homelessness upon leaving Number Ten and ended up with him being offered a new place to stay.

Terry’s departure from Number Ten means the Corkhills have arrived. I was quite surprised how low key their initial appearance was: Billy and Doreen just appeared in the living room of Number Ten, talking to Terry to try and work out if they were about to be beaten by another offer. They weren’t even named (the titles named them as “Second house buyers” or something similar). They drove their beaten-up removal van onto the Close with the entire family just as Edna’s funeral procession left, leading Doreen to worry about omens.

So far, they’re working well as the street’s new “have nots” and possibly the neighbours from hell. Already there’s been conflict from them dumping all of the previous furniture on the front lawn. They had every right to do this, since the exchange deadline had long since passed, and dopey Terry had left all of his and the Jacksons’ stuff there to attend Edna’s funeral after dopey Pat’s dopey friend had failed to provide the van dopey Pat had offered (dopey Pat waited for Billy to finish having a go at dopey Terry and leave before he sidled up to Terry and sighed “Oh, I’m sorry, mate”).

Looking at the Corkhills in light of their first couple of appearances it’s easy to see similarities with some of their spiritual predecessors. Billy’s aggressively unapologetic attitude aligns closely with that of Gavin Taylor, right down to the rubbish on the lawn. Meanwhile, Doreen’s hard edge and determination for the family to better themselves now that they’ve clawed their way out of the estate and into a new “posh” house evokes Marie’s spirit somewhat.

Absent friends have been referenced in the series itself. The similarities between the new family and the home’s former residents wasn’t lost on Paul Collins, prompting him to once again reel off a list of unneighbourly conduct from Number Ten’s occupants. And while packing up, Terry stopped to look at a photo of George and Marie. I suspect this could be the very last time their faces are seen on-screen.

Once again the balance has been good. Paul and Annabelle’s garden camping was great fun and it was lovely to see them having a laugh and enjoying themselves - even though they only made one night before Paul convinced Annabelle they needed their home comforts. Over at Number Five, Damon’s latest scheme has come undone as the photo of Karen and Claire won the “mother and baby” contest for the local paper and the journalists came to present the prize to “Mrs Grant”. Perfect David kind of saved the day, but the confusion and panic up to that point was most enjoyable.












Incidentally, happy birthday to Damon who - depending who you ask - would have been either 56 or 14 today.

 

[James from London]

All the same I find myself wondering why they didn't/haven't/don't convince and struggling to come up with a single reason (probably because there are many). It seems so strange considering everything going on around them and it's not like each household has a unique writer. It just seems to defy reason that they don't engage on the same level as the characters in surrounding scenes.

I’ve pondered this question so many times over the years! The actual siege apart, by this point I’ve already started fast-forwarding through any of Pat and Sandra’s scenes that don’t involve Kate or the neighbours, which is something I’ve never done with any other series (not even Sons and Daughters during its painful final years)*. Yet those same scenes will often be sandwiched by brilliant stuff happening elsewhere on the close.

(*Ok, maybe through a couple of characters' scenes in Coronation Street just before I finally lost track of it circa 2011)

The only explanation I can come up goes back to Brookside’s original USP as a soap: it isn’t an ensemble show about a larger community into which new characters can be easily assimilated and absorbed. The weaker ones can’t just be given the task of pouring tea in the local cafe for weeks on end while the writers figure out how best to utilise them in the long run . Each household must stand or fall by their believability as a self-contained unit right from the start. And because the close is so much smaller than your average soap street or square or motel and the amount of intermingling between families is so minimal, each individual household has far more screen time than they would on any other soap and so any weaknesses are that much more exposed. There’s nowhere to hide.

At the risk of going off at too much of a soapy tangent, to my recollection there have only ever been four families on EastEnders who have moved into the Square en masse as completely brand new characters, without the audience being familiar with at least one of them beforehand: the Taverniers (Michelle Gayle’s lot) in the 80s, the Di Marcos (Louise Jameson’s) in the 90s, the Slaters (the most successful) in 2000 and the Ferreiras (the most legendarily disastrous) a few years later. Tasking a disparate (often multi-generational) bunch of actors with the job of making us believe as if they know each other inside out while simultaneously delivering a moving van's worth of clunky exposition is never easy, but with the exception of the Jacksons, this is what Brookside has to do every time a new group of people move in -- at least until Number 10 becomes a kind of Corkhill halfway house around 1990 and then Patricia Farnham's mum and dad move in next door to her. The nurses is the first time they've failed to do so convincingly; the Corkhills Mk I is, in my opinion, the last time they fully succeed.

And maybe the other fundamental factor in why the nurses were such a failure (at least for me) goes back to what I said before about why having an Australian air-hostess in the TARDIS on Doctor Who just never rang true for me. It feels in like both instances, they were conceived less as characters than as marketing opportunities. Remembering early publicity shots of Pat, Sandra and Kate, they look like a cross between Tight Fit and Pepsi & Shirley -- more Pineapple Dance Studios than underfunded NHS. They're young, smiley, colourful, energetic and Fun with a couple F -- the very antithesis of Brookside's image during its first years as a grey, grim, dour and gritty series that's so depressing hardly anyone watches it. "A breath of fresh air" as the TV Times no doubt would have described them.

And somehow they were never able to transcend that initial brightly-coloured, multi-accented novelty "thing" and become something more real. Little wonder that the writers would return to familiar territory, ie. the very estate the Grants came from, when creating the close's next household.

I suppose it was inevitable since Kate was the one who I felt any kind of care for. Perhaps it needed to be her to truly mean anything. It's always felt wasteful, though (but perhaps that's the point as well).

Yeah, Kate's death felt shockingly tragic (things like this just didn't happen on soaps), partly because it was such a waste, which gave the story some lasting gravitas. If it'd been Pat or Sandra, I'd have probably cheered.

Kate always seemed so open and congruent, but at the same time she was perhaps the one we knew the least about. Which also left the possibility she was the one who had the most potential.

I guess the prospect of a Pat and Sandra romance was too much to resist, again if only as a TV Times-ish marketing opportunity.

There's something incredibly powerful about seeing a place (or iconography) that seems so fundamental to the series suffering any kind of desecration.

Yes, desecration, that's the word!

Pat and Sandra spent some time holed up with Terry at Number Ten

I actually missed the siege first time around because I was up in Edinburgh for the festival -- about twenty teenagers sleeping in three rooms performing two shows a day for a month while getting drunk every night, it wasn't unlike a siege situation itself, with a bit of Lord of the Flies thrown in for good measure -- so hearing vague whispers of what was happening in fictional Liverpool at the time sounded very surreal. Pat and Sandra living at Terry's was where I caught up with the story again. Bobby Ewing must have died soon after because for years I had a home-recorded VHS cassette of the final few eps of that season's Dallas and, thanks to the atypical length of 'Swan Song', there was a longer than usual gap at the end of the tape where most of a Brookside omnibus survived intact, these scenes included.

Something about the post-siege atmosphere -- even down to the crisp, white, baggy clothes Pat and Sandra are wearing, which look very mid-80s, but are also the kind of thing you might choose to wear after living in the same soiled outfits for so long -- has always felt strangely authentic to me. So has the awkwardness of the funeral scenes (despite some ropey acting).

Sandra finding time to have a blazing public row with Harry where she had to trump him over who was having the worst time

I remember this as one of those potentially interesting Jimmy McGovern mouthpiece scenes which fuses soapy melodrama (the siege) with political reality (Harry voting for the government that made the cuts to the NHS that resulted in the John Clarke situation). But then Pat appears and kills the whole thing. He's meant to be the peacemaker, but instead he just starts cluelessly shouting all his lines, presumably because the other two actors are shouting theirs, and as usual turns it all into generalised nothingness.

The gutter press angle has been interesting

"I love idealists. They're cheaper." The grubby tabloid reporter is such a cliche now, but felt quite fresh then.

Sandra’s return to Glasgow gave us some nice backdrops - it’s always fun to visit a different location with Brookside characters - and I thought it interesting to hear her speaking to her mum about Liverpool, Pat and her life with some objectivity. But then Pat rocked up and it became about them again, first Sandra’s jealousy when a friend of hers flirted with Pat, then it just felt like a photo op with two photogenic people standing in the sun and falling in love. The timing of it feels rather tasteless. Somehow it seems to overshadow and diminish Kate’s death. I realise it’s not about Kate but perhaps that’s exactly why it feels so dismissive. I feel I’m missing something. There’s a very vague implication that the intensity of being held hostage has drawn them closer together, but equally they could be just two horny opportunists trying to make a shallow relationship seem more meaningful. Which is very human, I suppose.

Yes, it looks as if it might work -- again, Sandra's almost good, and there's that weird normality in the aftermath of something so strange and terrible -- but then Pat appears and all of a sudden it's like Kate who?

Sandra’s first big barney with Harry was around the time Edna had a stroke. Upon their return, she launched a similar attack on him, not knowing Edna had died. Edna’s stroke was extremely well done. That visual of the smashed egg has been hard to shake, then there was the suspense that followed: Harry outside having a row with Damon outside while the camera occasionally showed us Edna lying on the floor through the window, with the kettle whistling furiously and the pan boiling away until it eventually burst into flames.

Edna's collapse reminds me of the scene in early Coronation Street where Florrie/Edna is in the corner shop oblivious to her mother on the other side of the wall, sliding down to the floor unseen.

It’s been a really nice touch that Kevin, Sally and Jessica have come up to Liverpool due to Edna’s stroke, and stayed for the funeral. All are great additions and I enjoy seeing them.

Sadly, the actor who played Kevin died the other day, around the same time as John Savident and Pamela Salem. I didn't realise he was a regular in Grange Hill, another Phil Redmond series, in which he again was a teacher.

Terry’s departure from Number Ten means the Corkhills have arrived. I was quite surprised how low key their initial appearance was: Billy and Doreen just appeared in the living room of Number Ten, talking to Terry to try and work out if they were about to be beaten by another offer. They weren’t even named (the titles named them as “Second house buyers” or something similar). They drove their beaten-up removal van onto the Close with the entire family just as Edna’s funeral procession left, leading Doreen to worry about omens.

Enders did exactly the same thing in 2000, with the Slaters arriving in the Square in a removal van at the same time as Ethel's funeral procession was leaving it.

Looking at the Corkhills in light of their first couple of appearances it’s easy to see similarities with some of their spiritual predecessors. Billy’s aggressively unapologetic attitude aligns closely with that of Gavin Taylor, right down to the rubbish on the lawn. Meanwhile, Doreen’s hard edge and determination for the family to better themselves now that they’ve clawed their way out of the estate and into a new “posh” house evokes Marie’s spirit somewhat.

Lots to say about the Corkhills but I'm sure we'll get there in due course!

Once again the balance has been good. Paul and Annabelle’s garden camping was great fun and it was lovely to see them having a laugh and enjoying themselves - even though they only made one night before Paul convinced Annabelle they needed their home comforts. Over at Number Five, Damon’s latest scheme has come undone as the photo of Karen and Claire won the “mother and baby” contest for the local paper and the journalists came to present the prize to “Mrs Grant”. Perfect David kind of saved the day, but the confusion and panic up to that point was most enjoyable.

Yes, Brookside seems determined to lighten the mood, post-Kate and Edna. The camping stuff was loopy but worked and the Mother Baby stuff at the Grants always makes me laugh. I always remember Sheila's slightly deflated expression as Neil tactfully directs her out of the shot he's taking of Karen and the baby.

Incidentally, happy birthday to Damon who - depending who you ask - would have been either 56 or 14 today.

Gosh, that's really quite poignant!

 

[Mel O'Drama]

The only explanation I can come up goes back to Brookside’s original USP as a soap: it isn’t an ensemble show about a larger community into which new characters can be easily assimilated and absorbed. The weaker ones can’t just be given the task of pouring tea in the local cafe for weeks on end while the writers figure out how best to utilise them in the long run . Each household must stand or fall by their believability as a self-contained unit right from the start. And because the close is so much smaller than your average soap street or square or motel and the amount of intermingling between families is so minimal, each individual household has far more screen time than they would on any other soap and so any weaknesses are that much more exposed. There’s nowhere to hide.

This all makes perfect sense to me.

there have only ever been four families on EastEnders who have moved into the Square en masse as completely brand new characters, without the audience being familiar with at least one of them beforehand

Interesting. I remember probably three of the four arriving and of course I'm aware of the Ferreiras, but the fact that it's only happened an average of once a decade really sheds light on how difficult this is to pull off.

Tasking a disparate (often multi-generational) bunch of actors with the job of making us believe as if they know each other inside out while simultaneously delivering a moving van's worth of clunky exposition is never easy, but with the exception of the Jacksons, this is what Brookside has to do every time a new group of people move in

Yes. It's kind of Brookside's "thing", and I enjoyed the change of energy that came when people started arriving at the empty houses at the beginning. And on paper a group of shared tenants is a really interesting choice as it adds diversity to the lifestyles on-screen.

the Corkhills Mk I is, in my opinion, the last time they fully succeed.

Thinking about it you're absolutely right. This makes it sad that we're now at that point, but it's a good reminder to me to savour this one.

they were conceived less as characters than as marketing opportunities. Remembering early publicity shots of Pat, Sandra and Kate, they look like a cross between Tight Fit and Pepsi & Shirley -- more Pineapple Dance Studios than underfunded NHS. They're young, smiley, colourful, energetic and Fun with a couple F

Pat always reminded me very much of George Michael, so I really get what you're saying. That photo actually does look like a George lookalike with his Pepsi & Shirley.

You're so right that it's a very different vibe from anything else seen up to that point, but it's all so surface and vapid. Compare that with Heather who is young, extremely stylish and absolutely stunning but has never actually been defined by that because she was so substantial.

I actually missed the siege first time around because I was up in Edinburgh for the festival -- about twenty teenagers sleeping in three rooms performing two shows a day for a month while getting drunk every night, it wasn't unlike a siege situation itself, with a bit of Lord of the Flies thrown in for good measure

Oh - that sounds wild, and certainly a good reason for missing out on the siege.

Bobby Ewing must have died soon after because for years I had a home-recorded VHS cassette of the final few eps of that season's Dallas and, thanks to the atypical length of 'Swan Song', there was a longer than usual gap at the end of the tape where most of a Brookside omnibus survived intact, these scenes included.

This is brilliant. I love when an era has these little fragments captured in this kind of way that links them by association and embeds them as representative of a time and place.

I remember this as one of those potentially interesting Jimmy McGovern mouthpiece scenes which fuses soapy melodrama (the siege) with political reality (Harry voting for the government that made the cuts to the NHS that resulted in the John Clarke situation).

Yes. I must confess I felt a little disappointed that even a Jimmy Mac script couldn't grip me for this scene.

Edna's collapse reminds me of the scene in early Coronation Street where Florrie/Edna is in the corner shop oblivious to her mother on the other side of the wall, sliding down to the floor unseen.

I can totally see that, yes.

Sadly, the actor who played Kevin died the other day,

Oh, this is sad news. I wouldn't have known if you hadn't said.

I didn't realise he was a regular in Grange Hill, another Phil Redmond series, in which he again was a teacher.

Oh - of course. Mr Robson. He's one of the teachers I remember best but I've never actually twigged that this was the same actor.

Lots to say about the Corkhills but I'm sure we'll get there in due course!

And I'm very much looking forward to it.

Yes, Brookside seems determined to lighten the mood, post-Kate and Edna.

I like that even as the heaviness was happening there were these threads of levity woven in. Like Damon's actually séance taking place while the hostage situation was underway.

Gosh, that's really quite poignant!

Yes, I got a lump in my throat when I realised it. Damon's certainly one of those characters that speaks to my heart.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Episodes 301 - 305
16 -30 September 1985
​

The Corkhills suddenly feel like the central upwardly mobile family. They’ve been heavily featured in these episodes and there’s no mistaking they’re around. But what I find interesting is that they’ve been given breathing room by the absence of the Grants as a family unit. Number Five has pretty much been represented by Karen and her boyfriend David, with a cough and a spit from Bobby. And even these Grant scenes have been informed by the Corkhills.

Karen’s had a lot of “hanging around the house with David” scenes, but more interesting have been her scenes with the various Corkhills. Rod seemed interested until she put him off by telling him she had a boyfriend (he’s been paying a lot of attention to Heather as well, so he doesn’t seem to have a type). Tracy and Karen have been sussing each other out, and Doreen had a conversion as well to confirm she knew the Grants by sight from the estate. This shared background has loosely bonded them (Karen even remembers Rod as a scruffy kid with “holes in his kecks”) but at the same time Karen has seemed keen to distance herself from them. When Tracy (on Doreen’s behalf) tried to find out what the living situation was at Number Seven, Karen said brushed her off saying it was “their business”. Scenes of her bragging about going to university and the grades she got in her exams have been fun as well, and seem designed as a way of establishing a hierarchy: the Corkhills may have made it to Brookside Close, but they’ve a long way to go before they’re in the Grants’ league. It’s an interesting look for socialist Karen.

Bobby and Billy’s conversation showed promise, with it ostensibly being a polite introduction, but also a way of these two alpha males checking one another out. For a few moment it seemed the two would be political allies, but they were quickly divided over automation: in a nutshell, Bobby opposes this with all he’s got, while Billy feels it’s futile to fight progress. There’s been no falling out - yet - but there’s plenty of potential for conflict. And Paul Collins isn’t even in the equation yet.

The speed with which the Corkhills have redecorated seems to symbolise the stamp they are quickly making on the series as a whole. They’re certainly written and played with confidence and - as with previous occupants of Number Ten - almost everyone seems to have an opinion about them.

Even Ralph and Harry have made up their minds before interacting with them, respectively observing that “they’ve got teenagers” “an’ a foreign car”.

Doreen is ambition incarnate. She is, as Rod tells Heather, “made up to be livin’ in a street where they go to work in suits” and she’s determined to fit in, pushing the family hard to get stuff done. Every job to her represents a climb up the social ladder. “I’m gonna make this place a little palace”, she swears. And everyone is going to accommodate this wish, from Billy sourcing a Yorkshire stone fireplace from… somewhere to Rod acquiescing to Doreen’s choice of wallpaper for his room (when Billy baulks at how pricey they look, she fires back that the paper was too expensive for their old place, but not this one. The move is going to cost him). There’s wood panelling on the living room wall, new wallpaper in the kitchen, and the breakfast bar has been ripped out (Doreen tells a horrified Terry that she prefers a table so she can keep an eye on her kids’ table manners).

Her attempts to ingratiate herself with her new neighbours are at times amusingly gauche, and Annabelle is forced to politely (and repeatedly) rebuff her offer of Doreen using her considerable influence to obtain her a quick appointment and a good deal at the dental practice where she works as a receptionist.

In the home, though, she knows exactly how to impress, and there’s a moment where she shows Tracy how its done after assuring her she can go on the expensive skiing trip Billy has refused. She gives Tracy her cue with a confident smirk, then turns on Billy to suggest an early night. It’s toxic femininity at its ugliest.

I don’t know if it’s the performance or the writing, but I feel Doreen can be a bit overdone at times as the social climber and manipulative shrew. It’s all fine and perfectly watchable, but it’s a bit sledgehammer and seems to lack subtlety and layers. But then it’s early days.

Then comes Doreen’s mother, Julia Brogan. I have a soft spot for her as she’s a character I remember very fondly and she’s certainly once seen never forgotten. She arrives to coo with approval at her daughter’s posh new home, and impose herself on family and neighbours both. Thinking about it, it’s an arc that’s not dissimilar to Lilimae’s arrival on Knots Landing. It’s clear she’s there as light relief, but she’s very endearing with it. We can see where Doreen gets her social aspirations (ooh - shades of Patricia Shepard as well), and Doreen homes in on some eligible male prey when she spots Ralph separated from the herd (tantalisingly, she tells him she’s just come from meeting Annabelle, which would have been a sight to see).

It’s almost ironic that this scene on the sunny cul-de-sac with chirpy Julia and mild Ralph should contain some of the darkest hints about the Corkhills. I’ve greatly enjoyed some of the half-spoken hints about the family’s chequered background, and Julia gives some of it voice, with the revelation that Billy’s older brother was murdered as part of a feud, and Billy and his brother Jimmy have sworn to avenge him.

Mercifully, he hasn’t been seen yet, but I’m trying to keep an open mind at this first mention of Jimmy Corkhill. He’s a character I associate with the dregs of the series, but this is only 1985 and I’m sure it has to be a gradual slope for a couple of years at least.

continued…​

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Episodes 301 - 305
16 -30 September 1985

continued
​

On the subject of dregs, life at Number Seven has become less than scintillating post-Kate. Pat and Terry have secured a bank loan for £2000 to buy a vehicle for their “man with a van” business. Cue lots of scenes of them grinning and celebrating. In the house itself, Terry has objected to Sandra smoking in the house.

It’s not a bad written sequence with some comedy (Terry retrieves a cigarette butt from the toilet, and he and Pat sprinkle the tobacco from it into Sandra’s dinner), some conflict (Sandra furiously evicts Pat from their bedroom and he blames Terry for starting the ball rolling) and even about the only reference to the siege in this run where Pat would prefer to sleep on the sofa than in Kate’s room. Jimmy McGovern also nails Terry’s somewhat parasitic nature when Sandra wails that they’ve taken in this waif from the street and now he’s complaining about a few dog ends.

Unfortunately, it’s mostly ruined by the one-note performances. Terry and Pat in particular just feel forced as the “new best-friends-stroke-Laurel-and-Hardy-of-the-Close”. There’s even a scene where Pat says something about Terry opening his big mouth which, with David Easter’s delivery is all but him saying “that’s another fine mess you’ve got us into”. Unfortunately, it feels to raise a smile because it feels as though it’s trying too hard to be funny. And because it lacks any reality or depth, it also doesn’t work as drama.

Harry’s had shades of light and dark in these episodes and all have worked far better. The drama has come from Ralph’s confession that Edna’s ring wasn’t buried with her as Harry had wanted. Actually, it’s less dramatic than it is poignant. Harry gives almost a non-reaction where he assures Ralph that he knows he would have done his best, and it’s all the better for it. There was a lighter moment when he settled his bill with Annabelle and refused her invoice, telling her he insisted on seeing her right and that we would refuse to take any change as she’s worked so hard… before handing her an envelope containing £25. It’s a relatable dilemma, because of the etiquette involved, and I found myself pondering what I would do. I decided I’d probably end up taking the loss, just as poor Annabelle did.

The arrival of the Corkhills as the current “second” family of the series has also got me thinking how well the writing around the Collinses has adapted to them practically being empty nesters. This run of episodes has given Jim Wiggins some of his best dramatic work for some time, as the VJ Day reunion has invoked him to confess to Annabelle a wartime incident when he froze during action, but ended up taking the credit for a shot someone else had fired at a sniper. And while I don’t relate to the situation, the strong writing makes this ultimately about imposter syndrome which I think is something to which almost anyone can relate. Better still, Paul being so hard on himself has given him pause for thought around his treatment of Gordon which he now feels is harsh and unfair. And while it’s tinged with regret, Annabelle brings an instant solution with the suggestion that they visit Gordon and Lucy in France. It’s a scene that shows so much care between these two, and reminds me how great they can be when utilised properly.

Incidentally, I did notice a photo of Gordon on the mantelpiece during one of these scenes. I wonder how much longer it will be there.

And this just leaves Heather… currently involved in a creepy phone call situation. It seems connected with the intrusion from journalists over a known issue with a component of Tom’s products (which goes way back), but this is soap so I feel there’s got to be something more personal behind it. Oh Lord - please don’t tell me it’s Tom doing this. She hasn’t had one of her calls while he was present, and I absolutely love watching these two as a couple. While I do know that there’s an end date on Tom and Heather’s relationship, I still remember nothing of the character from previous watches so I really have no idea how it all takes shape. Which is very exciting indeed.

 

[James from London]

Bobby and Billy’s conversation showed promise, with it ostensibly being a polite introduction, but also a way of these two alpha males checking one another out. For a few moment it seemed the two would be political allies, but they were quickly divided over automation: in a nutshell, Bobby opposes this with all he’s got, while Billy feels it’s futile to fight progress. There’s been no falling out - yet - but there’s plenty of potential for conflict.

All of the early interactions between Bobby and Billy and Sheila and Doreen are just so interesting -- and even more so with hindsight.

I don’t know if it’s the performance or the writing, but I feel Doreen can be a bit overdone at times as the social climber and manipulative shrew. It’s all fine and perfectly watchable, but it’s a bit sledgehammer and seems to lack subtlety and layers. But then it’s early days.

Interesting. I felt the opposite. The social climber is such a familiar soap/sitcom archetype, yet I feel Kate Fitzgerald's performance really undercuts the Hyacinth Bouquet of it all. There's something so delicate and fragile, maybe even childlike, about Doreen and her fantasies of bettering herself. She takes the whole thing very seriously. Even though she's a very different character, she has a need for perfection similar to Sable Colby's or Sue Ellen's, even if we don't quite understand where it's coming from. Billy probably doesn't understand either; he just instinctively responds to that need and wants to give her everything she wants. So on one level, she's insecure and sort of pitiful, while on another, she's got Billy right where she wants him. Yet you never doubt she loves him to bits.

Then comes Doreen’s mother, Julia Brogan. I have a soft spot for her as she’s a character I remember very fondly and she’s certainly once seen never forgotten. She arrives to coo with approval at her daughter’s job posh new home, and impose herself on family and neighbours both. Thinking about it, it’s an arc that’s not dissimilar to Lilimae’s arrival on Knots Landing. It’s clear she’s there as light relief, but she’s very endearing with it. We can see where Doreen gets her social aspirations (ooh - shades of Patricia Shepard as well), and Doreen homes in on some eligible male prey when she spots Ralph separated from the herd (tantalisingly, she tells him she’s just come from meeting Annabelle, which would have been a sight to see).

Yeah, Julia's the one out and out comedy character who totally works. She's not a Dot or an Ethel or a Fred Elliott or an Annie Walker who's suddenly gonna turn from making you laugh to making you cry; there's no hidden pathos there (that I recall). She just fully commits and has genuinely funny bones in a way that Ralph or (God help us) Pat don't.

It’s almost ironic that this scene on the sunny cul-de-sac with chirpy Julia and mild Ralph should contain some of the darkest hints about the Corkhills. I’ve greatly enjoyed some of the half-spoken hints about the family’s chequered background, and Julia gives some of it voice, with the revelation that Billy’s older brother was murdered as part of a feud, and Billy and his brother Jimmy have sworn to avenge him.

It's a very soapy if not a very 80s Brookie thing to do (and I'm not suggesting it's intentional), but the narrative seeds that will eventually bring about Billy and Doreen's downfalls (or at least drive them out of the show) are sown almost as soon as they arrive: his family's shady past and her addiction to spending.

Mercifully, he hasn’t been seen yet, but I’m trying to keep an open mind at this first mention of Jimmy Corkhill. He’s a character I associate with the dregs of the series, but this is only 1985 and I’m sure it has to be a gradual slope for a couple of years at least.

As a strictly supporting character, I generally found him quite tolerable.

Terry and Pat in particular just feel forced as the “new best-friends-stroke-Laurel-and-Hardy-of-the-Close”. There’s even a scene where Pat says something about Terry opening his big mouth which, with David Easter’s delivery is all but him saying “that’s another fine mess you’ve got us into”. Unfortunately, it feels to raise a smile because it feels as though it’s trying too hard to be funny. And because it lacks any reality or depth, it also doesn’t work as drama.

It's the weird logic of "If we behave like we're in a comedy, it'll automatically make us funny" that simply doesn't work. And as you say, there's no drama or reality there either so it becomes the TV equivalent of empty calories.

I did notice a photo of Gordon on the mantelpiece during one of these scenes. I wonder how much longer it will be there.

Oh yes, the Collins mantlepiece is always a useful indication of how the recasts are coming along.

 

[Oh!Carol Christmasson]

It seems as if Mel O'Drama and I have morphed into one and the same tellytalker because the alert informed me that James has quoted me in the Brookside thread.
I knew there was nothing here to quote me from but I clicked on the alert anyway in case I had mentioned something that I don't remember.

Now I know that Mel and I are usually on the same wavelength when it comes to Aussie soaps, but this situation looks like a timey-wimey crack in cyberspace.

 

[The First Noele]

ON UK TV for any fans https://www.itv.com/news/granada/20...-and-sue-johnston-reunite-for-new-travel-show

Ricky Tomlinson & Sue Johnston reunite for new travel show to mark 40 years on-screen together​

Ricky Tomlinson will return to television screens tonight in a brand new show alongside long-time co-star Sue Johnston.

To celebrate four decades on screen together, they're starring in a new More4 series, visiting landmark places from their lives and the special destinations the pair have always wanted to see together.

On Tuesday, he joined Lucy Meacock and Rob Smith in the ITV Granada studio to reveal all about the new show. He said: "The highlight was working with Sue again, and discussing our different paths!"

"Both Sue and I are from really working class families, and obviously there were no holidays abroad in those days. It was New Brighton, like it or lump it!

The Royle Family actor is working as hard as ever, despite being 84 years of age.

Reflecting on his time on the long-running BBC comedy, Ricky said: "Jim Royle was exactly the same (as me). I liked his character. I like telly!"

Ricky played Jim Royle in The Royle Family
The three-part series Ricky, Sue & a Trip or Two, will air for the first time on Tuesday night at 9pm.

The pair are no strangers, after spending more than 40 years on screen together in various programmes Credit: Channel 4 Publicity Shot
They'll travel to Shrewsbury Prison, where Ricky was jailed in the 1970s for unjust charges that Sue, coincidentally, took to the streets to campaign against, and reveals how they both ended up on Brookside Close, where the pair first acted alongside each other in the iconic Channel 4 soap opera.

As well as playing Bobby and Sheila Grant in Brookside, Ricky Tomlinson and Sue Johnston went on to become the equally iconic Jim and Barbara Royle in The Royle Family and have recently been sharing a sofa on Celebrity Gogglebox.

Telling ITV Granada about how their working relationship began on Brookside, Ricky said: "We just got on together. We did have one thing in common, we're both Liverpool supporters. Although I don't really want to talk about that at the moment..!"

Ricky and Sue at the BAFTAs Credit: PA Images
Talking about the new show, Ricky said: “Sue and I have had a lot of laughs and a lot of memories over the years. This new series will give us a chance to put the world to rights as we explore places treasured to us and to many others around Britain.”

Meanwhile Sue said: “Ricky and I feel so honoured to have had shared 40 years on screen together and a firm friendship for all of that time, so it’s particularly special to be taking a trip of a lifetime with him around this beautiful country for More 4. Channel 4 will have a job to do keeping us both on our best behaviour along with the friends we meet along the way."

Both actors have remained in the North West all of their lives.

"I don't want to live anywhere else, Sue doesn't want to live anywhere else. I love where I am, I love the local people where I am. I've had great neighbours."

The series will see the pair out of their natural habitat in the North West, as they hit the road together. The three-part series Ricky, Sue & a Trip or Two, will air for the first time on Tuesday night at 9pm on More4.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

The social climber is such a familiar soap/sitcom archetype, yet I feel Kate Fitzgerald's performance really undercuts the Hyacinth Bouquet of it all. There's something so delicate and fragile, maybe even childlike, about Doreen and her fantasies of bettering herself. She takes the whole thing very seriously. Even though she's a very different character, she has a need for perfection similar to Sable Colby's or Sue Ellen's, even if we don't quite understand where it's coming from. Billy probably doesn't understand either; he just instinctively responds to that need and wants to give her everything she wants. So on one level, she's insecure and sort of pitiful, while on another, she's got Billy right where she wants him. Yet you never doubt she loves him to bits.

I think the trouble was I saw similarities with Marie's character and ended up directly comparing and contrasting them. Now I have a few more episodes under my belt since my last comments I've been able to (mostly) get a reign on that and I've really warmed to her.

the narrative seeds that will eventually bring about Billy and Doreen's downfalls (or at least drive them out of the show) are sown almost as soon as they arrive: his family's shady past and her addiction to spending.

Absolutely. To me the whole arc does feel intentional, but of course I'm coming at that from a 2024 perspective. In my mind, the whole sequence of events feels as though each happens in quick succession. Doreen's exit as a series regular is barely two years away, so it's very tempting to look back and think that around half of that entire duration could have been planned before we ever met the character.

As a strictly supporting character, I generally found him quite tolerable.

That was the case for me, too, the first time round.

Last time I watched the early years was probably the mid-Nineties and even by that point the series hadn't fully become The Jimmy Corkhill Show, so I never had that association to deal with, and I'm curious to see if this will affect my tolerance of the character either way.

Oh yes, the Collins mantlepiece is always a useful indication of how the recasts are coming along.

One of the episodes I've watched-but-been-too-lazy-to-write-about so far has seen Lucy's return. How interesting that New Lu's in-person arrival was telegraphed by Annabelle and Paul fondly looking at photos of their recent French visit to see her.

Now I know that Mel and I are usually on the same wavelength when it comes to Aussie soaps, but this situation looks like a timey-wimey crack in cyberspace.

Going from your recent viewing pleasure and your avatar I'd say you're perfectly placed to repair said crack.

The three-part series Ricky, Sue & a Trip or Two, will air for the first time on Tuesday night at 9pm.

I remember photos from filming were posted in this thread months ago (by Ome, I think) so it's nice that it's finally here. I'm going to enjoy this.