Tuesday, August 30, 2016

Review - 30 August 2016

Overexposure everywhere tonight. I sometimes wonder why I continue to watch EastEnders, although - to be fair - I watched Brookside until the bitter end, when it was totally unwatchable at that time. At the risk of causing either a riot or a bingo game (or both), I have to say this show is in almost as bad a state as it was during the summer of Snakegate and Tunagate. Two fanbois, one of whom still remains, took the show, took the BBC's flagship show and turned it into their own personal toy, their private Disneyland and indulged every fantasy fan fiction, OTT action, retcon or plot-driven idiocy to suit their own whims and the rest of us be damned.

Do I trust the new man in charge? In a word, no. I don't trust anyone with this show anymore, because it's so adulterated, dumbed-down, calcified and re-branded as a niche soap, I don't feel it belongs to the general public anymore. It's sort of grown-up children's television where we're regularly asked to suspend reality to the nth point of absurdity and to right all previous glaringly erroneous wrongs by simply forgetting the previous plot. 

Why not? If the writers can forget the plot, why not the viewers?

It's cheap, it's shoddy, it's unendingly circular, it's badly acted, badly written and promotes all kinds of things it shouldn't - like, oh I don't know ... passive aggressive bullying. It's one thing to see and recognise this fault in Mick Carter. It's quite another to enact it sub-consciously and, more to the point, rather patronisingly. Or misogyny. Or pejorative characterisation of certain male characters. They are prejudices easily portrayed, along with stereotyping various races, nationalities and ethnicities. If you don't think the show has token characters, then think again.

The show got in an offensive stereotype of a nationality, and a demographic within that nationality, tonight, but pointing it out will only serve to get me schooled in my ignorance by someone who purports to know better. Be that as it may, I'll point out the offensive situation when I come to it.

To be brutally concise, the show is a train wreck at the moment, and I have a hard time believing that Sean O'Connor can grasp its mettle. I've heard various things about him - like that he only likes a handful of characters extant on the show or that there are a gaggle of more axings to follow the big shocks he's already effected. Who knows?

I sit and watch this show now with a jaundiced eye, wondering which actor is next for the shop. Right now, we're headed off to Mitchell Week or Mitchell Fortnight or whatever the hell it is, but viewers should take note. The last family to have had a week devoted to them was the Branning family, and they grew apace, unfettered, like a cancer. The Mitchells are doing that right now, especially with the BratPack Mitchells, wannabe Mitchells and secret Mitchells pushing to the fore. It's fast becoming a gangland Hollyoaks-in-London.

There's something for everyone in EastEnders, unless you watched from the beginning and are capable of seeing the green behind the gold paint.

Anyway, I'm sure the foregoing rant has provided various people with enough fodder for a bingo game later on.

The Good Bits

Dot's Mystery Letter. I couldn't help noticing how prominently Charlie's picture is now displayed in Dot's front room, amidst all the paraphernalia of Branning grandchildren pictures and pictures of Nick as a young man, there, tonight, was Charlie's picture. I actually miss Charlie. He was a pretty good male character until Ronnie Mitchell de-balled him, but then that's the way male characters are on the show - either de-balled men who could have been potentially positive characters, passive aggressive self-centred navel-gazers or hot young pretty boys.

Dot seemed to know the man who was delivering the letter. She saw him try to enter the closed launderette the day before, and now he pushes the letter at her before she has time to close the door in his face. He was clearly someone she wanted to avoid, and the letter was in a fine enveloped, addressed in in calligraphic script.

We know she sees Colin Russell again on Thursday after thirty-odd years, and if the letter were from Colin, I can't see why Dot wouldn't want to see him, as they were pretty close friends. How I wish Lord Cashman would leave off the kind hearts and coronets and return to EastEnders. Colin was a brilliant character - strong, sensitive, understanding, just nice; but "nice" has no place in EastEnders these days. "Nice" either dies (like Paul Coker) or gets exiled (like Ricky Butcher or Charlie Cotton).

This is a mystery that intrigues me.

Stacey and Martin Hand Sonia Her Arse. When Sonia goes, and go she must, I hope Rebecca goes to live with Martin and Stacey. In fact, I hope the feckless Tina and Sylvie get turfed back to CarterVille and the Fowlers - the real Fowlers, not the no-name one, move into the old Jackson-Butcher house. Stepmum Stacey scores points with Rebecca by a make-over, all to impress that klutzy non-entity Shakil, that abjectly objectional waste of space who doesn't deserve to have his contract extended. We're supposed to think he's cute and funny. He isn't, but more than his dubious attraction to Rebecca - he sees her as a warm body recepticle for the foul virgin seed of his loin (yuck); but then neither is the odiously boring Mark "Fowler", the adopted son of a man with no surname.

Here's a thought about Mark. Uni terms in the US started on Monday. He needs to be Stateside, going to classes. Even more important, if he's a college quarterback, otherwise known as BMOC (Big Man on Campus), he should have been on the training field three weeks ago. No time for a quick flit to Blighty to exercise his Surrey accent and pose around the Square, consorting with fifteen year-olds because I suppose his ilk wouldn't impress the likes of Johnny Carter or Abi Branning, who are closer in age to him.

He's briefly attracted to his fifteen year-old cousin, albeit he passes it off as a joke; but even when the ineffectual Shakil raises the point and even his assumed illegality of cousins being attracted to each other, Mark "Fowler", adopted son of a man with no surname, simply replies:-

Not where I come from.

That is a fucking offensive remark. Anyone born and raised in the South, I don't give a damn where your parents are from, would never make a remark like that. This is the assumed, pejorative, patronising and condescending assumption made by Northerners of all ilks - that the South is an inbred hotbed of incest and inbreeding.

Maybe the writer who penned that remark and the character who uttered the line should look around Walford. A more incestuous niche in London, you'll never find. In fact, Albert Square is actually the DeliveranceLand of Walford ...



Little Ricky Branning is both cousin and brother to Amy. Fancy that. Oh, and cousins fuck around in Walford too - Mark "Fowler", adopted son of a man with no name, should talk to Lauren, who's not only slept with her cousin, she's also indulged in a fine old Walford tradition as well - sleeping with a pair of brothers.

Meanwhile, Sonia is so far up Tina's arse, she can't even thank Martin for installing a smoke alarm, nor can she notice the make-over Rebecca has had done. She actually admits to Stacey that she's left with the bulk of Sylvie's care, after a long day at work; but neither Tina nor any of her family have come forward to help in any way regarding Sylvie. Quite simply, it's not Sonia's problem. Sonia needs to pay more attention to her daughter and not to her girlfriend.

Mephistopheles and the Silly Girl. Have you noticed how Ian never mentions Peter? How he remarked tonight how pleased he was that Lauren,Steven and Louis had come from New Zealand to live with him? No word about Peter, no curiosity about what happened to him, what he's doing, whatever - however, maybe that's not so surprising, because Peter was pretty disgusted, not only with Ian, but particularly with Jane when he scarpered from Walford. He seemed as if he were a man of principle and character, which speaks volumes for the singular lack of character Lauren possesses, that she can live so easily within the bosom of a family who collaborated in the cover-up of the the murder of her best friend. But then, Lauren hasn't yet figured out why her father disowned her.

So now we know that Steven left New Zealand - nay, fled New Zealand arse-deep in debt. Lauren knew that, and yet whilst she's been in Walford, she's frequented the cafĂ© enough times, had a night out partying, and ordered a new laptop. That's not to mention providing for her child, but then we know the Beales are soft touches. And naive. Ian genuinely thinks Steven's about to turn the restaurant into a profit-making venture, but I think Steven hasn't changed all that much from when he was there the last time.

He's certainly dishonest, but he was honest enough to come clean about why Kyle was sent away, when Lauren's limited intelligence raised itself to suss that something wasn't right when Steven was willing to put out thousands of pounds to send Kyle on a chef's course, simply to buy his silence about Steven arranging for the theft and sale of Ian's kitchen stock. He was hoping to reap double the winnings by selling the kitchen stock, and having an insurance claim. Lauren even upbraided him for coming down hard on Kathy for moving the CCTV camera. 

Steven purports to want to keep the secret because he's afraid of Ian hating him again, but he doesn't fear that at all. How much do you want to bet that Steven's going to run that restaurant into the ground because his hand is going to be in the till all the time? Oh, and I suppose we can expect to see these debt collectors, some sort of big EastEnd gangstas working for the Kiwis to whom Steven owes a lot of money.

Lauren, stupid girl, stupid beard agrees to keep Steven's secret and her laptop, because she reckons she's going to make loadsamoney without any qualifications conning people into believing she's a web designer. Lying alert: Lauren makes Steven promise no more secrets or lies - we all know what that means, don't we?

When will we find out again that Steven is gay? Or did they conveniently forget that?

The Dire Bits

This Is All The Have to Offer Denise? The mother of a Mitchell satellite? And it will be Phil's baby. We've been through all of this before with menopausal women thinking the change has started, only to find that they are pregnant, although Kim had the line of the night.

We all have issues.

Yes, Kim, indeed we do, but one thing we don't need is people patronising us by reminding us that everyone's personal issue is more important than any issues any other person might have. The menopause and ageing remarks were a bit full-on tonight, along with all the pregnancy horror stories. Honestly, all this putrid story needed was someone smacking Denise around the face with a wet fish and having her break the fourth wall to announce that she was pregnant, all of which was played out against a backdrop of a silly salsa storyline. There was even the ubiquitous shirtless scene for Kush - let's see if he can fit in a pink shirt made for Vincent.

This seems like the storyline of the dregsters, with even Masood getting a requisite walk-on scene doing a salsa as Patrick's partner. Masood is obviously a loose end, and honestly, if this is the only thing they can offer Denise, then the actress should go or the producer should axe her. There have been ample opportunity to give this strong actress a good storyline, but nothing's worked. How long is a piece of string? Seriously?

Use your ingenuity. Let's have a positive story about abortion - it's karma hitting Denise in the face because of the awful way she bullied Libby into not getting an abortion (a plea to which Libby turned deaf ears). She now finds herself facing the same predicament her daughter faced and for which her daughter had the courage to end - pregnant by a man she loathes. (Won't happen. Men hate abortions and abortion stories, but then, men don't have abortions).

Or ... she could pass the baby off as Kush's child, which would be trite, but the sort of thing which would make Alex Lamb giggle.

Or ... she could take the baby and run, like all other Mitchell mothers. Hmmm ... maybe this is the end of Denise? And the beginning of yet another secret son saga.

Spare me.

The Mitchell BratPack. Once again, Louise, a fifteen year-old, is given the dialogue of a woman ten years her senior. And isn't it funny how something that starts out so good, sours so quickly? I'm talking about Courtney.

You called the police?! How could you! That's something we never do! We never involve the police!

#FuckOffCourtney.

It didn't take them long to bring out the core Mitchell philosophy in her, did it? Last time we saw her, she was the responsible university student and daughter of her common sense mother. Now, she's spouting Mitchell rhetoric all over the place - keeping it in the family, not involving the police, even after knowing Ben had run off following Jay, to find the blokes who killed Paul.

Just a word about Jay, about whom I've never been a fan. (So shoot me, it's my opinion). He's broken the law, by his own carelessness and his own admission; and now, he's gone from feeling helpless at not being able to find a job, to feeling resentful and self-pitying. He resorts to selling cocaine and abuses he hospitality of Billy and his family by keeping drugs in a house around children, by dealing from the house and by taking drugs as well. And now, he's geeing Ben on into committing an act of violence that would only result in him being killed or getting caught and sent to jail.

Arguably, the best scene in all of this was Ben's visit to Pam. The Cokers were alerted by the police that they were about to make an arrest in the suspects surrounding Paul's death. As a result of Louise's phonecall and the police vigilance, the perps saw Ben and Jay - more important for future events, they saw Ben.

The scene between Pam and Ben was heart-rending and raw. As she pointed out, she's lost her grandson, a person who could never be replaced, where Ben has a chance to go forward with his life. She was right to remind Ben how badly he treated Paul at times, especially when he was with Abi - and by extension, he treated Abi badly as well. At least it got Ben to admit to Pam that he should have died instead of Paul, that Paul was the better person, that had they remained together that evening, they may have either lived or died together.

At least talking to Pam made Ben see sense, and he backed out of any silly business with Jay, prompting Jay to storm off up North in a huff. For once, I agree with the woman Louise - maybe it's time for Ben to let go of something else as well. Good. None of this second generation Mitchell Brothers shit.

The family is treading water at the moment, with Phil shuffling around and grunting and Sharon prancing about making snide comments about people, letting the worst youth dynamic in the history of the show, bar Ben, take the forefront. Mitchell Week. Anytime a family some EP is promoting big time, gets its own "week," we're on a hiding to nothing. In fact, anytime, anyone - Mitchells, Brannings, teens, birdbrains - get a week devoted to them, it usually results in overkill.

We're certainly getting that with the Mitchells at the moment.

Once again, a meh episode. I'm looking forward to seeing Colin, although I shudder to think what these hacks have done to his character.

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