Radio Head: The Recordist

Hurrah!

Another fabulous Radio 4 play is getting repeated.

Sean Grundy's 'The Recordist' concerns a surveillance expert who finds out his wife is having an affair, and uses his professional skills, with that of his close friend (an interrogation expert) to find out more.

While missing the beautiful self-containment of his earlier Sony short-listed play Cavity, it instead dazzles with mad (in the best way) settings, while matching the former's darkness, weird humour and originality.  What could be a psychological thriller instead becomes a unique, sweet romance. Plus it stars the irresistible John Gordon Sinclair, Sharon Horgan and Gemma Jones.

Oh, Sean Grundy got nominated for a Sony Award for this too. Over-achiever.

Radio Head: Incredibly Guilty - A Comic Moral Fable

Wheee!

One of my favourite radio playwrights (award-winning with the brilliant Lunch) is getting a repeat with her most excellent play 'Incredibly Guilty - A Comic Moral Fable'.

Starring Stephen Mangan (also in Lunch with Claire Skinner), about a small mistake that soon becomes a snowballing disaster, the dialogue is vibrant and set in a wonderfully wonky world.

Bright escapism - listen before it falls off:

Radio Head: Rubbish

It's about to fall off iPlayer, but it's worth checking out.

Rubbish is a Radio 4 sitcom that I listened to but abandoned before, but 4Extra repeats have allowed its subtle charms a second chance to shine on me.

Written by Tony Bagley, it features a misanthropic recycling officer in local government, but neatly avoids the many clichés of 'workplace' and 'misanthrope' sitcoms. Martin is intelligent, but neurotic; alone, but not without attractions to other women; and he finds himself wavering across moral lines in a very human, very inconsistent way.

The satire is also sly, with dashes of the pleasingly surreal - Martin's inner conscience turns out to have the voice of a 10 year-old girl, and he is frequently visited by the Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse - Embarrassment.

With an excellent cast (Reece Dinsdale, Kevin Eldon, Nicola Walker in series 1, Pippa Haywood in series 2, and cameos from Emma Kennedy, Katy Brand and Russell Tovey) it's fabulous.

"When you think about it, everyone's phobic about something. Look at Barney and his scratching in public phobia. No matter how much he itches, he can never bring himself to scratch in front of someone else. Then there's John Kedge - phobic about choking to death in his sleep... but that might be associated with the pressures of having a secret second family in Upfield."

The Wireless Fancier: McLevy

Perhaps it's down to the cold weather, but I've been listening to McLevy... again. I suppose it may be the fourth - or eighth time - but really you stop counting once you step into it's dark, velvety world.

Since beginning on Radio 4 in 1999 it has blossomed into nine series and a series of books (available from http://www.birlinn.co.uk), and it's still extraordinary. 

Set in Edinburgh, it recounts the mem oirs of a Victorian detective battling against the corruption, prostitution, and murder that poison the poverty-stricken streets of Edinburgh, as well as the classes above. The creator, David Ashton, based the stories on the actual memoirs of detective James McLevy that were a publishing phenomenon in their day (apparently even Arthur Conan Doyle was a fan).

However, after nine series it can be a safe assumption that Mr Ashton has deviated from the original stories, if only because his finely drawn characters now breathe a life of their own.

The cast are astoundingly good - Brian Cox plays the detective and manages a extra-ordinary balance of arrogance, humour, morality, subversion and soul. His McLevy truly loves the world he polices, seeing himself a defender, protecting Leith from the evils above and below. He is aided by the wry and astute, but more innocent, Constable Mulholland (Michael Perceval-Maxwell), and David Ashton himself hilariously plays the team's arrogant, aspirational superior - a worrier and neurotic, disgusted by the very low-down, dirty people of Leith he is supposed to protect.

However, the great detective needs a great opponent, and none can better the seductive figure of Jean Brash - the mistress of a brothel, the Queen of Thieves, and the closest thing to McLevy's soulmate. As in one episode, Jean tells him "you and I are two sides of the same coin, McLevy". Both are wise and witty, principled but realists, and they both share a hatred of inequality - but where McLevy tries to fight this with the law, Jean has more faith in crime. Siobhan Redmond brings intelligence, enticement and heart effortlessly to the role. Soulmates separated by circumstance, the continuous push and pull between the pair is bitterweet perfection and an example to all writers.

Siobhan Redmond, Brian Cox. Copyright: BBC

The cast obviously delight in David Ashton's dialogue - eloquent, funny, and weighty, colloquialisms and slang drip authentically. The atmosphere is absorbing, sound effects subtly calling up the busy, grimy streets of Leith. Even scenes changes are effortless to follow - something that can be difficult in radio. Combined with smoky music, a yearning call to the listener, with such production values you want for nothing.

Leith Waterfront. Copyright:Clive Peace [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

 Um, not really. Copyright: Miss Edinburgh via http://www.edinburghspotlight.com  

Recently on a trip to Edinburgh, I went out of my way to visit Leith - it is now upmarket and smart, with attractive restaurants. However the winding streets and old brick buildings remained and were enough to recall the close, moody atmosphere of Ashton's world. I even managed to pick up a copy of McLevy's original memoirs while there, and am astounded how well Ashton's dialogue seems to mimic the baroque, florid writing of the real McLevy. Unlike bad historical fiction Ashton uses his sources lightly and effectively, not hammering you with his research.

The series are available for £2.99 each from AudioGo as a download (The CDs are more than twice as expensive, and only hold two episodes each, so what's the point). Give it a try - it's perfect escapism, like the best crime fiction. Something to keep out the cold, as its darkness draws you in.

The Marmite Hypothesis, and it's place in British Comedy

"What is food to one man may be fierce poison to others"

— Lucretius

Sit down and pay attention.

Are you sitting? Good. 

I expect you were sitting down anyway, it's quite awkward to use a computer standing up, they are so usually placed at waist height - I'm getting distracted.

The Marmite Hypothesis is simple. There are some things that you either love, or either hate. There are some things that seem to polarise as soon as they come into contact with people. A recent example would be the film Black Swan, which either created revulsion, irritation, but also reverence and adoration.

(I have no idea, I've not actually seen it myself. I'm in that safe, comfortable place before you try something new, also known as 'No thanks, I'm fine').

Other examples include... Marmite, modern art, opera and Glee. Actually, I'm not sure about Glee, but I was running out of things to list off the top of my idea. I've never seen Glee for personal reasons, it's not important, but let's just say it's between the people of Glee and myself. It's best not to get involved.

Moving on, this topic popped into my head after browsing the internet and finding pages and pages of people ranting against radio comedy that I happen to love. It's not that I was angry I was just confused why it upset them so much. They seemed to take it really personally if for whatever reasons they did not like a show. Very often it would be compared to another show, most likely a much older show, and what would follow would be paragraphs detailing why 'the older show was so much better, and how the writers of new show were totally ripping them off, and were also idiots', and some such vein.

Other people were milder i.e. 'this is the only show that's really made me laugh out loud in ages, others leave me wondering why the audience are laughing so hard'.

Comedy appears to be deeply personal, and I myself can be irritated by shows I don't find funny, but if others do... then that's fine. We have different opinions? Well, that's marvellous. Aren't we lucky that we can find mediums that cater to both? It's a more boring assertion, but I promise you that it'll save you some ranting and high blood pressure in the long run.

Radio comedy, for example, currently on the BBC, is delivering a huge range of comedy to suit different tastes, a lot of which is pretty good, or at least interesting, should you take the chance.

Cabin Pressure, for example, with Mr Benedict Cumberbatch of Sherlock, is a pretty perfect sitcom. Bleak Expectations we go to for the splendidly silly, The News at Bedtime gives us satire and deliriously wonderful wordplay.

Living with Mother is on iplayer at the moment and is beautifully observed, but is a little dark too. Safety Catch is VERY dark and I think jaw-droppingly good, but has complaints from others who find it in bad taste (I think it is just bitingly satirical about the state of modern morality in people... or something).

Even Party - which I find adorable and brilliantly observed (and hopefully will soon have tickets to a recording of!), others I know will find only so-so.

So, my main point is basically what Lucretius said somewhere between 90 and 55B.C., but a lot more snappily. We all have things that grate and our grievances, for whatever reason (I'm looking at you, Glee), but it's rare that we find nothing is to our taste, such is the plurality of voice and comedy. Comedy is wonderful, isn't it? An attempt to redress the balance from all the crappiness that is thrust upon us, and when we find one we connect with, makes us feel less alone, but may just confuse others. That wasn't very elegant.

Hold on, what's that again, Lucretius?

"What is food to one man may be fierce poison to others"

— Lucretius

Ah, that's the stuff.

Miki

xx

Radio Addict: Brian Gulliver's Travels

There are some names which seem completely inappropriate for heroes: Alan, Tim... Colin etc.

How I would have loved one of those graceful elves from Lord of the Rings to be actually named Alan; but for whatever reason (perhaps long and undeserved associations with sweaters, Countdown and/or model railways, I don't know why, don't ask me why) it never happened.

The point of this ramble is that I have been listening to a new radio 4 comedy called Brian Gulliver's Travels. The title is a pretty big clue to the kind of show it is. He's called Gulliver, but he's also called Brian. Brian isn't really a hero, and this show isn't exactly a political drama.

Written by Bill Dare, whose name was only familiar as a producer on shows like The Late Edition and I've Never Seen Star Wars, the comedy is a pastiche of Gulliver's Travels, updated to modern times, where Brian is a travel writer in a psychiatric ward, recounting the various countries he visited during the 6 years he disappeared. Why the psychiatry ward? Because no one has heard of the strange lands he is convinced he visited.

Like Gulliver's Travels, Dare uses exploration of other worlds to satirise our own, and the brilliant thing with this kind of fantasy is that you don't have to worry about being subtle. That's a compliment, because what it means is that the half-hour is crammed with spot-on satire and spoofing of trends like the holistic medicine and marriage all taking place in a weird bendy universe quite similar to our own. With half-hour to explore a whole new culture (sometimes two) you don't want to waste time on backstory or appendices.

That doesn't mean the show isn't subtle. There is a wonderful relationship with Brian and his daughter (who visits him in hospital, and listens to his stories) that is beautifully presented, a really light touch and a nice point of connection for listeners. Brilliant actors, particularly for these lead roles.

What's great is that the premise isn't wasted. It sounds clever, and it is clever. It's also helped by being accompanied by great music, suggesting the slightly off-kilter, strange tone to the whole thing before anyone has even said a word. Who wrote it? No idea. Typical.

The BBC appear to be proud of it because the blurb on the website is far more proud than is usual for other new series. Good. It utterly deserves it. A couple more episodes will appear on Iplayer before it vanishes
http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b00yqhrk

Aparently Dare has also written a sketch show on Radio 4 called Life, Death and Sex with Mike and Sue. I wonder where I could get a copy...