I was generous in rating this episode, but my generosity was extended only because of Ann Mitchell and Timothy West fronting the show. Of course, this was all about the real beginning of Stan's end - a character we've known for a year, but whose family have had and are still having a decade's worth of storylines thrown their way.
Old Walford took a backseat tonight. Worst off, the death of a long-serving, but long-time unseen patriarch of the only other Walford family on whom two successive producers overdosed their audience, served to be merely the ultimate in plot devices to achieve a final scene of peace-reckoning between the dying Stan Carter and DTC's marmite muse.
Hit it ...
The Long Goodbye.
Well, we knew it was never going to be a real wedding, didn't we? As soon as Stan wanted to see Sylvie, we knew exactly that - in true Carter tradition - there was another big, stinking secret waiting to burst out of the closet.
Of course, Stan never divorced Sylvie. The thought of divorce would have never crossed the mind of a fly-by-night as Sylvie was (possibly even suffering from familial Alzheimer's syndrome - see the brilliant film Being Alice to understand all of that), and Stan probably couldn't have been arsed to fork up the money for solicitor's fees. Besides, as he indicated tonight, he was probably carrying a torch for the old girl and thought she would return.
Sylvie was ferreted away, and he got Babe in return, hovering and helicoptering around all those years, spreading her special brand of poison and toxins. Awful character, and I'm not impressed with Sylvie either; but I was impressed by Timothy West and the wonderful Ann Mitchell tonight.
This episode belonged to Mitchell, and I'll have to heap praise on DTC for bringing Cora, as a character, to fruition. Under Kirkwood and Newman, she was a horrendous, alcoholic old ASBO lag, not even worthy of influencing either of her granddaughters. Treadwell-Collins has given the character depth and fleshed her out. Under DTC, we've seen Cora for what she really is - a desperately lonely elderly woman, still mourning the loss of the husband she loved. As Ann Mitchell so eloquently had Cora state tonight, her marriage vows were forever, beyond "til death do us part." To Cora, marriage was forever, even though her husband had been dead for years, she was loyal to his memory.
We know enough of Cora's backstory to know she found it difficult to deal with terminal illness and spent most of her husband's illness propping up the bar in a pub. This is, most likely, how her alcoholism began in earnest. She drank to cope with her husband's dying and drank afterward to cope with her loneliness and her guilt.
Now, as she tenderly washed Stan's face at the beginning of a day, he recognises how deft she is with care-giving.
Stan: You've done this before.
Cora: No, but I should have.
Cora's care of Stan in his final days isn't just for Stan's benefit, it's her way of giving back to Bill, the husband who died young, and a way of expatiating the guilt she's felt for years of having abandoned the man she loved on his deathbed. She even visited his grave to tell him everything about Stan and to receive a message which only she could hear - Bill's blessing. She's ready to move on with Stan, be it only for a few months, a few weeks or a couple of days.
Ann Mitchell was absolutely amazing. She and Timothy West always raise the standard of acting on the show, but tonight, this was her baby. There was nothing so poignant as watching Cora leave Stan with a smile, only to walk out the door and steel herself against the pain of losing a man she loved yet again in her life. That five-second, wordless scene was powerful.
We knew, however, that this was all going to be a sham, as Babe said. Let's be honest, it was bigamy; but to be even more brutally honest, I have a feeling that the actual wedding ceremony was all for show anyway - a performance to favour a dying man in his last few days, and Babe's attempt to sabotage the occasion was as pernicious as it was pathetic for her hidden neediness.
The other good scene from that vignette, came in the pas de deux between Stan and Sylvie, which - in its own way - was equally as poignant. Sylvie, in the throes of Alzheimer's, not recognising Stan, but knowing, somehow, that he was at her wedding. Retreating to the shallow girl she once was, she witters on about her dress and how she prayed that it wouldn't rain on the day; and Stan, reduced to referring to himself in the third person in order to get Sylvie to talk.
Stan: Stan prayed too.
Sylvie: Stan? He never prayed a day in his life!
Stan: He prayed -
Sylvie: For sunshine?
Stan: That you'd show up.
Such banter back and forth, learning that Sylvie's mother, Edna, had warned her against marrying him and that Sylvie should have listened, because after two weeks, she learned that Stan wasn't the man he was ... and suddenly, she realises that the man with whom she's talking, is, in fact, Stan. The epiphany is heart-breaking.
Stan ... you got old.
Stan has to tell her, again, in the third person, that "Stan" wants to get married again. To someone else. To move on. As Babe slithers in to sabotage the moment and to order Sylvie outside, Sylvie discretely slips her wedding ring into the palm of Stan's palm. Whilst Babe scoffs that Sylvie didn't comprehend a thing Stan was saying, he got great pleasure in showing her what Sylvie left.
Same Shit Different Day.
And so it goes on. The Court Jester prattles on and on, harping the familiar EastEnders' tune of "fairmly" in trying to assemble the various and sundry Carters and their burgeoning satellites for Stan's "wedding." In the midst of this puerile prattling and looks of death Tina invariably shot both Shirley and Mick, Shirley got the line of the night.
Tina: Shirl, Dad's getting married. 'E needs 'is FAIRMLY.
Shirley: No, he doesn't. He needs morphine.
This is the Shirley of old - the zinger queen who could dole it out with the best of them. Of course, it's all about getting Shirley and Mick together under one roof for the ceremony, and Tina manages to get Shirley to agree to come, but the mood is soured when she shows up at the Vic, to the waiting family members, with Buster Blooodvessel in tow.
If Buster doesn't go, Shirley doesn't go. If Buster goes, Mick doesn't go. Buster bows out and - surprise surprise - Shirley follows like a good doormat.
There's the challenge set, but Stan taking a turn for the worst keeps demanding to see Shirley and wanting Mick to make it good with her, so when Mick finally swallows his pride again and goes in search of Shirley, Mr Scrote, himself, answers the door and doesn't know where Shirley can be found.
But we can guess.
Who got the duff duff by Stan's side whilst he called out in pain in the night?
That's right. Shirley Queen of Scrotes.
Le Plot Device and a Singular Lack of Talent. There you go. I've said it. Jim's death, the same week as Stan's was a plot device to bring home to Shirley the fact that her father is dying and time is running out for Shirley to make her peace with him.
Scores of things are going on in the background of this plot device, principally Martin's effort to come clean to Sonia ...
... about losing the house. (Look, that was partly the self-righteous bitch's fault for walking away from her marriage with her salary that probably helped to secure the mortgage, itself.) At least, Martin's told Ian, and now he's trying to tell his putrid wife, but she's got far more important things to do than to speak to the father of her child. She's got another family now, and she's letting Nana Carol parent Rebecca.
And speaking of Rebecca, that picture Martin fished out of the boxes Ian was storing, the one of Sonia happily holding baby Chloe.
What the fuck?
That was one of the most traumatic times in Sonia's life, and there were no smiles and posed pictures of a happy mum with a child. Sonia was working furiously and fighting with Pauline too much to pose for a cosy picture like that. She wanted Chloe out of her life as soon as possible ... until she wanted to kidnap her two years later.
Pay attention.
The plot device began in the cafe, with Buster Bloodvessel and Shirley sitting down to a bit of breakfast and Buster morphing from Mr Scrote to Mr Responsible, admonishing Shirley about not going to the wedding, and saying he wants to stick around to get to know his grandchildren.
Pukeshit. Not only does he ooze total insincerity, the actor is total pants. The physical similarity to Phil is too coincidental, but he oozes low-lifery to the fullest extent, and the actor simply recites his lines. One feels he's reading an autocue as he hawks kitchen cleaner.
In the midst of this, Carol gets a phonecall, which causes her to stare blindly into space. Next thing you know, Sonia's called from the non-wedding, and here's the start of some more humdingery pit-sickening acting.
Strolling along the Square, Martin stops her to tell her that he's lost the house. (Cue Natalie Cassidy's Acting Technique #1: She narrows her eyes, screws up her nose, sniffs, and peers, open-mouthed, up at Martin, whilst repeating what he said):-
Martin: I lost the house.
Sonia (eyes narrowing, nose screwed, mouth agape): Sniff .. You lost ve'owse?
Now, it's Shirley - Shirley! - who summons Sonia into the cafe, where Carol's sat, stupefied at a table with Buster - Buster!. Sonia's first reaction is disbelief that Shirley and Buster are there, but Carol explains.
I wanted them to go but they insisted on staying. (There's a reason for that, dear Carol).
Jim has died, it seems, and when Carol tells Sonia, we're treated to Natalie Cassidy's Acting Technique #2: Once again, open-mouthed, head thrown-back, sad clown look in the eyes, stereotypically tragic look on her face as she wordlessly clutches Carol to her.
There's a Natalie Cassidy Acting Technique #3 as well, and we've seen it. The mouth is agape, yet again, the eyes widen and stare blankly into space, and she clutches frantically at some part of her anatomy, as in her tits, for example, as she wails about something that concerns only her:-
'OwmahgonnalivewivoughVESE?'
Funny thing about Sonia's tits, she doesn't speak of the possibility of losing them anymore or the fact that she carries the BRCA gene.
So now you know it, ladies and gentlemen, the real reason why Jim was made to die a day or two before Stan. Jim's death brought home to Shirley how fragile time was and how little time she had left to make things good with Stan. Jim died so Shirley could get the duff duff. Go figure that one.
More Moon Monotony and a Familiar Minor Face. Sometimes EastEnders amazes me.
Derek Evans, the social worker.
I may be mistaken, but wasn't he the social worker who placed Jay with Billy, who oversaw Louise's return and who eventually worked with Phil and Sharon when Sharon was trying to help Phil take Lexie?
Now he's back to evaluate Kat. Could be worse. Coulda been Trish Barnes.
Once again, this is a groundhog day moment, with Kat not cooperating, obviously raw from her suicide attempt, but savvy enough to quip that it was a one-off, it wouldn't happen again. (But it's the second time she's tried this, as people keep saying). Up steps Alfie, who again assumes blame for her condition and who confesses to her, in front of the social worker, that he lost sight of how important she and the boys were for him and promises undying support to the hilt. So, no, Kat's not quite right, just yet, but Alfie will be there with support for her to the end.
Of course, the social worker's assessment is vague, and he'll be back; but Alfie gets no thanks for his efforts from Kat, nor does he get any acknowledgement for his confession. Bet he'll get a lot of attention from Kat when he wins the Lottery.
Just saying.
Who's That Girl?
Well, there she was justa walkin' down the street ... Denise Van Outen.
Her introduction was brief, and it's clear she's a honeytrap for the horniest man in Walford - wait, Charlie Cotton's sleeping with Roxy - the horniest gecko in Walford. Karin Smart, the widow of a dodgy second-hand car dealer with whom Phil used to "do business." We can imagine what sort of business, the sort which killed Kevin Wicks, the forgotten man.
Karin's looking for Phil ... just to do a bit of business. Jay warns Max not to get involved with the black widow-type, which only whets Max's whistle and wets something else in his anatomy.
Phil's face as he watched Karin totter after Max on marital aid heels was one of mischievous delight. What was even more surprising was Jay's part in the ruse, because I'm not 100 per cent certain of Jay's loyalty to Phil.
However, Jake Wood and Denise Van Outen worked well together. Just as he did with Vanessa, Max "sealed he deal" with a bit of 'ow's yer favva back at his place, at Karin's suggestion.
I liked Van Outen. Is she a good actress? Probably not, but there are scores worse than she in EastEnders, and she's an actor who's always wanted to be in the show. She looks like she belongs on the show, and I'd love to see a character who's a strong, independent businesswoman who isn't man-dependent and who is as capable of cutting a swather through men as some of the male characters have done on the show.
I hope she returns. Permanently. Denise Van Outen and Danny Dyer in EastEnders. Whoda thunk it?
Old Walford took a backseat tonight. Worst off, the death of a long-serving, but long-time unseen patriarch of the only other Walford family on whom two successive producers overdosed their audience, served to be merely the ultimate in plot devices to achieve a final scene of peace-reckoning between the dying Stan Carter and DTC's marmite muse.
Hit it ...
The Long Goodbye.
Well, we knew it was never going to be a real wedding, didn't we? As soon as Stan wanted to see Sylvie, we knew exactly that - in true Carter tradition - there was another big, stinking secret waiting to burst out of the closet.
Of course, Stan never divorced Sylvie. The thought of divorce would have never crossed the mind of a fly-by-night as Sylvie was (possibly even suffering from familial Alzheimer's syndrome - see the brilliant film Being Alice to understand all of that), and Stan probably couldn't have been arsed to fork up the money for solicitor's fees. Besides, as he indicated tonight, he was probably carrying a torch for the old girl and thought she would return.
Sylvie was ferreted away, and he got Babe in return, hovering and helicoptering around all those years, spreading her special brand of poison and toxins. Awful character, and I'm not impressed with Sylvie either; but I was impressed by Timothy West and the wonderful Ann Mitchell tonight.
This episode belonged to Mitchell, and I'll have to heap praise on DTC for bringing Cora, as a character, to fruition. Under Kirkwood and Newman, she was a horrendous, alcoholic old ASBO lag, not even worthy of influencing either of her granddaughters. Treadwell-Collins has given the character depth and fleshed her out. Under DTC, we've seen Cora for what she really is - a desperately lonely elderly woman, still mourning the loss of the husband she loved. As Ann Mitchell so eloquently had Cora state tonight, her marriage vows were forever, beyond "til death do us part." To Cora, marriage was forever, even though her husband had been dead for years, she was loyal to his memory.
We know enough of Cora's backstory to know she found it difficult to deal with terminal illness and spent most of her husband's illness propping up the bar in a pub. This is, most likely, how her alcoholism began in earnest. She drank to cope with her husband's dying and drank afterward to cope with her loneliness and her guilt.
Now, as she tenderly washed Stan's face at the beginning of a day, he recognises how deft she is with care-giving.
Stan: You've done this before.
Cora: No, but I should have.
Cora's care of Stan in his final days isn't just for Stan's benefit, it's her way of giving back to Bill, the husband who died young, and a way of expatiating the guilt she's felt for years of having abandoned the man she loved on his deathbed. She even visited his grave to tell him everything about Stan and to receive a message which only she could hear - Bill's blessing. She's ready to move on with Stan, be it only for a few months, a few weeks or a couple of days.
Ann Mitchell was absolutely amazing. She and Timothy West always raise the standard of acting on the show, but tonight, this was her baby. There was nothing so poignant as watching Cora leave Stan with a smile, only to walk out the door and steel herself against the pain of losing a man she loved yet again in her life. That five-second, wordless scene was powerful.
We knew, however, that this was all going to be a sham, as Babe said. Let's be honest, it was bigamy; but to be even more brutally honest, I have a feeling that the actual wedding ceremony was all for show anyway - a performance to favour a dying man in his last few days, and Babe's attempt to sabotage the occasion was as pernicious as it was pathetic for her hidden neediness.
The other good scene from that vignette, came in the pas de deux between Stan and Sylvie, which - in its own way - was equally as poignant. Sylvie, in the throes of Alzheimer's, not recognising Stan, but knowing, somehow, that he was at her wedding. Retreating to the shallow girl she once was, she witters on about her dress and how she prayed that it wouldn't rain on the day; and Stan, reduced to referring to himself in the third person in order to get Sylvie to talk.
Stan: Stan prayed too.
Sylvie: Stan? He never prayed a day in his life!
Stan: He prayed -
Sylvie: For sunshine?
Stan: That you'd show up.
Such banter back and forth, learning that Sylvie's mother, Edna, had warned her against marrying him and that Sylvie should have listened, because after two weeks, she learned that Stan wasn't the man he was ... and suddenly, she realises that the man with whom she's talking, is, in fact, Stan. The epiphany is heart-breaking.
Stan ... you got old.
Stan has to tell her, again, in the third person, that "Stan" wants to get married again. To someone else. To move on. As Babe slithers in to sabotage the moment and to order Sylvie outside, Sylvie discretely slips her wedding ring into the palm of Stan's palm. Whilst Babe scoffs that Sylvie didn't comprehend a thing Stan was saying, he got great pleasure in showing her what Sylvie left.
Same Shit Different Day.
And so it goes on. The Court Jester prattles on and on, harping the familiar EastEnders' tune of "fairmly" in trying to assemble the various and sundry Carters and their burgeoning satellites for Stan's "wedding." In the midst of this puerile prattling and looks of death Tina invariably shot both Shirley and Mick, Shirley got the line of the night.
Tina: Shirl, Dad's getting married. 'E needs 'is FAIRMLY.
Shirley: No, he doesn't. He needs morphine.
This is the Shirley of old - the zinger queen who could dole it out with the best of them. Of course, it's all about getting Shirley and Mick together under one roof for the ceremony, and Tina manages to get Shirley to agree to come, but the mood is soured when she shows up at the Vic, to the waiting family members, with Buster Blooodvessel in tow.
If Buster doesn't go, Shirley doesn't go. If Buster goes, Mick doesn't go. Buster bows out and - surprise surprise - Shirley follows like a good doormat.
There's the challenge set, but Stan taking a turn for the worst keeps demanding to see Shirley and wanting Mick to make it good with her, so when Mick finally swallows his pride again and goes in search of Shirley, Mr Scrote, himself, answers the door and doesn't know where Shirley can be found.
But we can guess.
Who got the duff duff by Stan's side whilst he called out in pain in the night?
That's right. Shirley Queen of Scrotes.
Le Plot Device and a Singular Lack of Talent. There you go. I've said it. Jim's death, the same week as Stan's was a plot device to bring home to Shirley the fact that her father is dying and time is running out for Shirley to make her peace with him.
Scores of things are going on in the background of this plot device, principally Martin's effort to come clean to Sonia ...
... about losing the house. (Look, that was partly the self-righteous bitch's fault for walking away from her marriage with her salary that probably helped to secure the mortgage, itself.) At least, Martin's told Ian, and now he's trying to tell his putrid wife, but she's got far more important things to do than to speak to the father of her child. She's got another family now, and she's letting Nana Carol parent Rebecca.
And speaking of Rebecca, that picture Martin fished out of the boxes Ian was storing, the one of Sonia happily holding baby Chloe.
What the fuck?
That was one of the most traumatic times in Sonia's life, and there were no smiles and posed pictures of a happy mum with a child. Sonia was working furiously and fighting with Pauline too much to pose for a cosy picture like that. She wanted Chloe out of her life as soon as possible ... until she wanted to kidnap her two years later.
Pay attention.
The plot device began in the cafe, with Buster Bloodvessel and Shirley sitting down to a bit of breakfast and Buster morphing from Mr Scrote to Mr Responsible, admonishing Shirley about not going to the wedding, and saying he wants to stick around to get to know his grandchildren.
Pukeshit. Not only does he ooze total insincerity, the actor is total pants. The physical similarity to Phil is too coincidental, but he oozes low-lifery to the fullest extent, and the actor simply recites his lines. One feels he's reading an autocue as he hawks kitchen cleaner.
In the midst of this, Carol gets a phonecall, which causes her to stare blindly into space. Next thing you know, Sonia's called from the non-wedding, and here's the start of some more humdingery pit-sickening acting.
Strolling along the Square, Martin stops her to tell her that he's lost the house. (Cue Natalie Cassidy's Acting Technique #1: She narrows her eyes, screws up her nose, sniffs, and peers, open-mouthed, up at Martin, whilst repeating what he said):-
Martin: I lost the house.
Sonia (eyes narrowing, nose screwed, mouth agape): Sniff .. You lost ve'owse?
Now, it's Shirley - Shirley! - who summons Sonia into the cafe, where Carol's sat, stupefied at a table with Buster - Buster!. Sonia's first reaction is disbelief that Shirley and Buster are there, but Carol explains.
I wanted them to go but they insisted on staying. (There's a reason for that, dear Carol).
Jim has died, it seems, and when Carol tells Sonia, we're treated to Natalie Cassidy's Acting Technique #2: Once again, open-mouthed, head thrown-back, sad clown look in the eyes, stereotypically tragic look on her face as she wordlessly clutches Carol to her.
There's a Natalie Cassidy Acting Technique #3 as well, and we've seen it. The mouth is agape, yet again, the eyes widen and stare blankly into space, and she clutches frantically at some part of her anatomy, as in her tits, for example, as she wails about something that concerns only her:-
'OwmahgonnalivewivoughVESE?'
Funny thing about Sonia's tits, she doesn't speak of the possibility of losing them anymore or the fact that she carries the BRCA gene.
So now you know it, ladies and gentlemen, the real reason why Jim was made to die a day or two before Stan. Jim's death brought home to Shirley how fragile time was and how little time she had left to make things good with Stan. Jim died so Shirley could get the duff duff. Go figure that one.
More Moon Monotony and a Familiar Minor Face. Sometimes EastEnders amazes me.
Derek Evans, the social worker.
I may be mistaken, but wasn't he the social worker who placed Jay with Billy, who oversaw Louise's return and who eventually worked with Phil and Sharon when Sharon was trying to help Phil take Lexie?
Now he's back to evaluate Kat. Could be worse. Coulda been Trish Barnes.
Once again, this is a groundhog day moment, with Kat not cooperating, obviously raw from her suicide attempt, but savvy enough to quip that it was a one-off, it wouldn't happen again. (But it's the second time she's tried this, as people keep saying). Up steps Alfie, who again assumes blame for her condition and who confesses to her, in front of the social worker, that he lost sight of how important she and the boys were for him and promises undying support to the hilt. So, no, Kat's not quite right, just yet, but Alfie will be there with support for her to the end.
Of course, the social worker's assessment is vague, and he'll be back; but Alfie gets no thanks for his efforts from Kat, nor does he get any acknowledgement for his confession. Bet he'll get a lot of attention from Kat when he wins the Lottery.
Just saying.
Who's That Girl?
Well, there she was justa walkin' down the street ... Denise Van Outen.
Her introduction was brief, and it's clear she's a honeytrap for the horniest man in Walford - wait, Charlie Cotton's sleeping with Roxy - the horniest gecko in Walford. Karin Smart, the widow of a dodgy second-hand car dealer with whom Phil used to "do business." We can imagine what sort of business, the sort which killed Kevin Wicks, the forgotten man.
Karin's looking for Phil ... just to do a bit of business. Jay warns Max not to get involved with the black widow-type, which only whets Max's whistle and wets something else in his anatomy.
Phil's face as he watched Karin totter after Max on marital aid heels was one of mischievous delight. What was even more surprising was Jay's part in the ruse, because I'm not 100 per cent certain of Jay's loyalty to Phil.
However, Jake Wood and Denise Van Outen worked well together. Just as he did with Vanessa, Max "sealed he deal" with a bit of 'ow's yer favva back at his place, at Karin's suggestion.
I liked Van Outen. Is she a good actress? Probably not, but there are scores worse than she in EastEnders, and she's an actor who's always wanted to be in the show. She looks like she belongs on the show, and I'd love to see a character who's a strong, independent businesswoman who isn't man-dependent and who is as capable of cutting a swather through men as some of the male characters have done on the show.
I hope she returns. Permanently. Denise Van Outen and Danny Dyer in EastEnders. Whoda thunk it?
No comments:
Post a Comment