'The tensions and animosities, laid bare after Brexit, were hard to take seriously when Boris was played by an actor in a Jimmy Savile wig, Theresa May was portrayed as a man in drag, and Andrea Leadsom resembled the late Marti Caine.'
As Evelyn Waugh’s Agatha Runcible would have put it, television at present is simply too spirit-crushing and sick-making. Take Paula. Lots of atmospheric bangs, crashes, rattles and knockings; spooky cupboards and cellars, fairgrounds and dolls’ houses. One knew immediately when that cute spaniel appeared, it would be slaughtered. As every character was psychologically damaged, it was hard to work out whom to root for. The police were certainly not on top form. A man was stabbed in the neck with a bottle and his body chucked off a cliff, but the constabulary didn’t seem to find anything suspicious in any of that. Or then there was the aptly-named Broken, where everyone is in bits and Sean Bean, as the troubled priest, tried to hand out succour where he can. I’d hoped he’d cheer himself up by having a steamy affair with Anna Friel, who has given me the horn for...
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