Black Work

Jo Gillespie (Sheridan Smith) has an undercover cop, Ryan (Kenny Doughty) for a husband, with whom she has a daughter and a stepson.  His frequent absences from her life have led to her seeking solace with one of his colleagues (Matthew McNulty).  She decides to give her marriage another go, but before she can do anything about it, he is found shot dead in an empty warehouse.  She'd believed he was at a football match (that went on all night...?) and so she begins a quest to find out who her dead husband really was and how he died.  Unsurprisingly, the police aren't too keen, especially as it soon becomes clear that they aren't too sure what he was doing either.

The post-mortem discovery of a loved one's secret life is hardly a new formula, but there's plenty of basis in reality for the scenario, at least, with recent news stories and trials concerning cops undercover for years, going 'native', having relationships and even children.  Difficult to tell whether this will be credible, as so far there have been a few implausibilities or handy coincidences (surveillance teams would go to the trouble of putting bugged conversations on CD, of all things?  Said CDs are stowed in the airing cupboard?  Obliging lover leaks information about dead hubby's undercover identity?  Same dead hubby has a hideout his bosses haven't investigated?).  The next two parts could give us explanations for these things, and the cast is strong enough to keep us watching to find out.  In addition, there's some nice footage of Leeds and West Yorkshire as neither the grim Northern hell nor the American-sell gloss usually depicted.

Jamaica Inn

Windswept moors, smugglers and mangled west country accents, yes, we're in Du Maurier territory again for another remake of 'Jamaica Inn', starring Jessica Brown Findlay (dead Sybil Crawley from 'Downton') as Mary Yellan, the ingenue who 'bain't be from 'ereabouts' who must face cruelty, madness and Matthew McNulty on the Bodmin Road.

Ms Brown Findlay plays Mary less as naive waif than sulky teenager with a deprived childhood, while Sean Harris and Matthew McNulty reprise roles they seem to specialise in - laconic meanie and handsome rough diamond respectively - as Joss and Jem Merlyn.  For a rollicking, sinister tale, it takes a long time to get going.  Half an hour in and Mary's realised that the titular inn is barely upright in the evil wind blowing across the moor, and that it isn't a place to stay clean in any sense, but little else has happened.  Joanne Whalley, as jittery, broken Aunt Patience, gives an understated performance in what could (and often is) either an overplayed or deeply unsympathetic role, but at a third of the way through, a stay in the modern, standardised and deeply unexciting Jamaica Inn would be preferable to a stay with the Merlyns, and as du Maurier fans that's saying something.

And while we're on the subject, nor is the adaptation particularly faithful to the book, with Mary helping her uncle's criminal gang, albeit reluctantly, in receiving wrecked goods on the beach.  Women did lead hard lives, but Mary's active, physical participation in men's work of the day feels like a sop to a 21st Century audience.  She ends the episode morally compromised, having protected Jem and by implication her uncle, echoed by a tide line of mud risen from the hem of her skirt to her thigh.  It would have been better scheduled over the Easter break, which has been largely devoid of new drama, and would have been improved by better sound.  We aren't in our dotage, but half of the lines were muttered and thrown away, while the music blasted out loud and clear. 

The Mill

Yes, as in 'trouble at', although apparently based on real-life incidents.  Not satisfied with making us miserable in 'The Village', the TV schedulers have decided we need a bigger dose of dour and dirty everyday folk in days of yore.  Fans of 'The Paradise' and 'Mr Selfridge' need not tune in, and fans of 'Downton Abbey' had better stay away too.

Ah, those were the days.  Britain at the head of an empire, the richest country in the world by far, none of this workers rights rubbish - they worked twelve-hour days for a pittance and a handful of porridge or they starved in the streets.  Welfare?  The cause of all ills.  Get the masses to work so they know that their place is to serve their betters.  Then we can bring industry back to Britain, once again the workshop of the world... - what?  Inhumane?  Plenty of kids in the Third World work that way today don't they?  There are plenty of charities and philanthropists to help, and then talent will out.  Any little entrepreneurs among the workers can climb the ladder if they want it badly enough.  If they fail, it's their own fault.

This is costume drama a la Ken Loach, which could almost be a schools history series.  Dark is this mill (Quarry Bank) and satanic, in the form of overlooker (no pun intended, 'Shining' fans) Crout (Craig Parkinson, who must have bagged Central Casting's no. 1 spot for villains) who treats his favourite girls to a bit of a grope in the privy.  As one of them says, he's a well-known "beard-splitter".  Life were romantic in them days.

The merchant, mill-owning Gregs are busy fighting the proposed Ten-Hour Bill and advancing the machinery, while the young workers are supervised by a Squeers-like pair.  Yes, all cliches, but none the less true for that.  Whether this four-parter works out as a drama rather than a history lesson is yet to be seen, though feisty Esther looks set to give her masters pause for thought, or even a pain in the rear.  Ah yes, those were the days alright.  Decent working conditions were at least in the ascendant and coming closer, rather than being eroded.  Go Esther, and we hope you're not turning in your grave.

Room at the Top

A pleasure postponed after being pulled off air at the last minute for legal reasons last year, though having just seen Matthew McNulty and Peter Wight in 'The Paradise' this was unfortunate rescheduling.  This is one drama that flies in the face of Mark Lawson's alarum over the dominance of bonnets on the air.  Joe Lampton (McNulty) for those who haven't read Braine's novel or seen the 1957 film, is a working class anti-hero on the make, railing against the stultifying social codes of post-war Britain and taking his women wherever and however he finds them.  Think 'Alfie' with anger and less swinging, or Jimmy Porter with more sex and less vitriol.  Not a bonnet in sight, and very apposite in view of the current widening of the gap between the Lamptons and their supposed betters.

Not a green teacup, a marcel wave or a fluffy jumper out of place.

The Syndicate, Part Two

This time there was no snoozing.  Kay Mellor hasn't gone far outside her safety net here, with her working class characters struggling through a calamitous situation, here a small supermarket winning big on the lottery.  Stuart (Matthew McNulty) was so nagged by his spendthrift wife and desperate prior to the win that his collusion in the robbery is likely to cost him the money and his family, and has already put Bob (Tim Spall) in hospital.

It's more cosy than gritty, and the comedy-drama genre sits oddly with the life-changing scenario and sometimes abrasive script, but as usual the cast do great stuff with what they're given and last night's had a fun take on 'Pretty Woman' with Denise (Lorraine Bruce) and sassy single mother Leanne (Joanna Page) shopping for clothes on a very big budget.  The scenes between Denise and estranged husband Dave (Wayne Foskett) alone were worth tuning in for.  Or re-tuning.  Or whatever we're all supposed to do with digital switchover this month.

Talking of Mr Foskett, how nice to see him onscreen again - a star ever since playing Elvis Simcock, David Thewlis's sulky brother in 'A Bit of a Do' back in the late 80s, and criminally underused.