This was a better episode than the previous ones this week, but not by much. There seemed to be movement in some storylines, almost poignantly so, but the yoof still dominate in a way that shows no sign of easing up; however, the episode was significant, simply for the sheer amount of whingeing, whining and moaning that went on, the self-pity and the self-absorption of various characters. There is a lot not to like about EastEnders at the moment, and watching it is like a train wreck, but it forces you to think about the sheer awfulness of some of the characters being presented.
However, there was one bright bit in Part I ...
The Generation Game: The Carter Sisters. Sean O'Connor tries to foist the awful Fox non-sisters on us (and in Parts I and II, we were offered up a couple of the many different versions of his muse, Denise, ostensibly, for him to enjoy; but over-egging is over-egging anyway you look at it - afer all, Brexit means Brexit), but the Carter sisters have taken the ball and run with it in their all-too-brief storyline about dealing with Sylvie's dementia and their uneasy relationship with her.
The show has been consistent when it presents family units of more than one generation, in presenting generational traits or flaws that are recogniseable from parent to child and so on. The Mitchells were defined by their alcoholism and their domestic violence - Eric bequeathed his violence to Grant, and both his alcoholism and low self-esteem to Phil. Cora Cross was a functioning alcoholic, both her daughters had drink and/or drug dependencies and her granddaughter is a recovering alcoholic also. The Butchers had abandonment issues - at various times, Frank abandoned his family, as did Diane, Ricky and Janine.
There have been patterns. And tonight, we got a look into Shirley's family, her mother's family, and we get a slightly better insight into what makes her tick. The segment dealing with Shirley, Tina and Sylvie was, without a doubt, the best and most genuinely poignant scene in the first episode today; but it had an edge.
Sylvie might not know what day it is, she might not know her children from one moment to the next, but in a vividly lucid moment, she recognised a framed picture from her youth, given her by Tina; she remembered the occasion when she was named Miss Canning Town 1958 and all the details around it - the sash she won, the best friend who helped make her frock and who shared the photo with her, her father's proud reaction when she returned home with her prize, the pub across the road with "Tulips from Amsterdam" playing on the juke box. In fact, it was hearing that song played on Tina's CD player that changed Sylvie's mood from agressively morose (spitting her porridge on Tina) to cheery happiness, singing along and then indulging in memories.
But the happy memories didn't last. We learned that whilst her father doted on her, her mother was a different story. She objected to Sylvie wearing make-up and dressing up, burned her sash prize and beat her, throwing her into the coal shed to spend the night alone and in the dark. Years later, Sylvie remembered asking her mother why she'd done that, and the old lady affected not to remember.
Shirley was a silent witness to this tale, and later, she and Tina had a confrontation about it. It's no secret that Shirley's relationship with Sylvie has been fraught. She abused Shirley - lashing out at her, throwing her down the stairs and keeping a six year-old Shirley huddled on the doorstep in the rain for 20 minutes whilst she finished her bath. Whilst Tina can be indulgent, understanding and compassionate to Sylvie's plight in her later days, Shirley can't be. There's no forgiveness there.
In fact, Tina is perceptive enough to voice the opinion that maybe, just maybe there were some women who weren't cut out to be mothers - Sylvie's mother physically abused her, Sylvie physically abused Shirley and abandoned Tina, Shirley abandoned all her children and Tina walked away from her daughter.
It's clear that Sylvie's experiences with her own mother impinged on her inability to be a mother to her own children - and, as Tina said, a lot of that was exacerbated by living with Stan. They were two people physically attracted to each other, but too self-absorbed and selfish, emanating from their earlier lives, and so they failed their children, and their children failed their children.
This gives Shirley food for thought, and in the end, she decides to do something for Mick that she's never done for any of her other children - she concocts a plan to enable him to avoid going to prison - because Sylvie's poignant story and the story of a family dealing with an elderly relative suffering from dementia, ultimately, like all the Carter stories, becomes all about Mick.
Mick is the one child Shirley has who has never grown up. He certainly isn't the only one of her children who grew up without a mother - James, Dean and Carly, whom she never mentions, grew up without her in their lives as well, and Dean certainly was affected by that. Mick, at least, was brought up, first by Babe, and then by Elaine. It's also clear now that Linda is really to Mick what Jane ultimately became to Ian - a mother-wife.
He's acting like a big, spoiled brat. He's frightened about going to prison, and he's frightened about telling Linda - about spoiling her "dream". It angers me to hear both him and the appalling Whitney still levy the bulk of blame for Mick's plight on Lee and Lee's debt. I hate that. How much debt did Lee actually run up anyway? The bulk of that debt came from paying for Whitney's big fat dirty wedding, something he shouldn't have had to do. A lot of his debt, as well, came from Whitney's whining, expensive tastes; and now that he's gone - at Mick's suggestion, a suggestion which subliminally suggested that Mick would be left on his own tod to watch approvingly as the doe-eyed Whitney idolised him into bed - they're still blaming him, when 14k of that debt came from Mick forking out via a loan to bring Linda and the ailing Elaine back from Spain. The fine was another matter; so in the general scheme of things, I'd say Lee's debt figured less than the other two combined.
Shirley also susses what Whitney is about, and as much as Whitney assumes the moral high ground, she's lying through her teeth about what she feels for Mick. Whitney will be 25 in December. Mick is 40. He is, by no means, middle-aged. He's still a man young enough to have a young family, and she certainly doesn't view him as a father figure. I'm sorry, but you don't go around sticking your tongue down your father's throat. Shirley's noticed how Whitney's slotted herself neatly into Linda's role, to the point that Mick now doesn't want to talk to Linda, is keeping secrets from Linda, and generally rising to Whitney's comforting shoulder on which to cry, like the manchild that he is.
Whilst Johnny, the ungrammatical law student, is realistic about Mick's fate if he can't come up with the 20k fine by Friday, Whitney is still urging Mick to go to the magistrates and give them the 2k raised from the takings, and they're sure to see what a good man he is and what a good business the Vic is. She's even disparaging Johnny's ambitions as his finals and his dissertation might mean he can't help look after the pub in the event of Mick doing time.
The scene between Mick and Shirley in the car revealed the true measure of Mick - the man whom Whitney idolises as being the strong hunter-gatherer, even at his weakest, drunk and crying like a baby on the roof, cuddled in her arms, she sees him as her champion prince. With Lee exiled, his father, again whom Lee idolised to the point that he literally drove himself to distraction trying to emulate, awakes to the fact that he is, in reality, the weakest link. He could preach all he wanted to Lee about "manning up" and accepting responsibility, but in the end, he's willing to step aside and let his mother assume the blame for breaking licencing laws. As Shirley told the authorities, Mick was innocent, he knew nothing of what she and Babe were doing, in their beer-with-breakfast jaunt.
I don't think this is the end of the Vic saga with Mick. Max's first open offer came tonight - and we're getting Max in dripfeed at the moment - by offering on behalf of his boss to buy the freehold of the Vic and lease it to Mick. Against the wishes of Shirley and Johnny, but not the increasingly cloying Whitney, he opted to keep this in the family. We'll see how far this goes.
But the most interesting part of Mick ultimately dominating this storyline came with the fact that, at the end of the day, Mick, himself, couldn't man up. He had to be saved from a fate he feared most - prison - by a woman. So less of Mick, and his Dirty Girl, trashing Lee as the cause of Mick's misfortunes. Mick is the master of his own fate. He's a spoiled, little kid who resents Linda's absence taking her away from him being the centre of his own special universe.
Yet another self-obsessed, self-indulgent, overgrown brat.
Shirley's 6-week sentence, revealed at the end of Part II, has become a three-month stint for perverting the course of justice. What? Jay got community service for the same thing, and he was harbouring a killer.
The Beat Goes On. Yoof. The worm turns, to a degree, in the first part, with Shakil and Rebecca.
I thought Louise had agreed to admit her part to the police in sending the picture of Shakil, but it looks as though she didn't. In both instances tonight, in the first part, Rebecca and Shakil turned on their nemeses. If this is really a storyline about different aspects of bullying, it's working to a degree in its depiction.
Really, is Louise so afraid of Sniggle and Snaggle that she does their bidding and makes friendly with Rebecca just to find out if she's daubed the terrible twins in the controversy with the police. Honestly, do they think she's that stupid that she wouldn't see them standing, cowards, across the street from her front door, as Louise was meant to do their bidding and find out information.
Instead, Rebecca confronts them, head on, telling them that if they had anything to ask her, the should do that to her face. They wouldn't, however. They are the sort of bullies who roam in packs or pairs, because one reinforces the other. They must have Louise scared shitless, however; she can only make half-hearted attempts to stand up to them, and those attempts usually result in her storming off, as she did today.
I don't know why they're worried. We know that they egged Louise on to pinch Rebecca's phone and distribute Shakil's picture, but there's no actual proof. Even if Louise or Rebecca had nobbled them, there is only their word against these girls, who are abysmally poor cartoon characters. When Sniggle tried to be smart and responded to Rebecca, saying that she'd tried to ring her, but Rebecca wouldn't pick up, she nearly shat herself when Rebecca told her that the police had taken Rebecca's phone.
They seemed cowed when they learned that Rebecca had taken the entire blame for everything, the interview at the police station, the embarrassing questions, the caution and the external isolation from school on herself, with the ironic part being that she was the person who had done absolutely nothing (except be stupid enough to keep Shakil's picture.)
In an effort not to be cowed by this, the pair immediately change the dynamic to taunt Rebecca because she appeared to have been crying, then passing on the story about Rebecca having been seen being led away by the police from the school in tears, and finally accusing her of still liking Shakil.
I don't quite understand their animosity to Shakil or their affrontage to the fact that she could or should even remotely like him.
In a similar situation, the seriously warped Keegan has infiltrated the Kazemi home, where Shakil is under house arrest, being made to clean house for Carmel. He's appropriated Shakil's games console and is amusing himself whilst relating an exaggerated tale of Rebecca being led in handcuffs, screaming, from the school, and plotting even more revenge to enact upon her.
In his best performance yet, Shakil goes apeshit and starts beating the shit out of the little toerag, rightly accusing him of starting everything with Rebecca. Once again, the taunts come back from him to Shakil about Shakil still liking Rebecca. Carmel interrupts, but the gist with Keegan is that he is someone who can only bully, intimidate, humiliate and mistreat women or girls. The moment someone of his own gender turns on him, he runs. Shakil got the best of him.
Carmel, who's just come from an epic whinge session and self-pity party with Denise playing counsellor, whilst talking about organising (sigh) a community meeting to discuss the council's inaction in Walford. The whinge session becomes a lament all about themselves, with Denise patting herself on the back for having brought her daughters up so well without father figures - conveniently forgetting how Chelsea tried to have an innocent man imprisoned simply because he preferred Carly Wicks to her (or, indeed, how Denise tried to cover Chelsea's crime up).
It doesn't take Carmel long to suss that Keegan was behind sending the link - and as she reiterated to Denise, Shakil was guilty, but not as guilty as Rebecca, which Denise riposted something along the lines of ...
It's always the quiet ones.
As if you're kids' and stepkids' shit doesn't smell, Denise! I seem to recall Jordan is a thief and Dean a rapist, amongst other things.
But Carmel's rant at Shakil about him taking responsibility simply morphs into a rant about his self-absorption, which, actually, then morphs into a rant all about herself and what she does for Shakil. Every day. Every week. She literally does everything for him except wipe his arse, and she has the gall to wonder why he thinks only of himself.
He actually had the most truthful line of the show when he remarked that ...
Everybody only thinks about themselves.
Of course, he's going to think only of himself, when he's got the supreme narcissist before him as a role model. Carmel wants to be the centre of everyone's attention. When she offered to help Denise organise the meeting, she made sure she reminded her that she'd have Arthur with her. It was baby yoga day, her "gran" day, and rather than returning him to his parents, she was going to play nana and swing him by for an afternoon at Denise's gossiping.
I was actally hoping for Shakil to shut her up by telling her that he couldn't help but care about nothing and no one but himself, because that's what he's been raised to do.
What an awful, awful woman.
Bits. They're giving us Max on drip-feed, including a scene where he passes Lauren with the briefest of greetings, and it looks as though Dennis's blackmail is working. And Whitney, who's responsible for her own marriag ending, giving romance tips to Lauren to spice up her relationship with Steven? Really? She's bored because Steven seems to have no libido, and she's bored already with her kid? What a stupid little girl. As for Steven's lack of romantic interest, could it be that he just might be a little bit gay?
However, there was one bright bit in Part I ...
The Generation Game: The Carter Sisters. Sean O'Connor tries to foist the awful Fox non-sisters on us (and in Parts I and II, we were offered up a couple of the many different versions of his muse, Denise, ostensibly, for him to enjoy; but over-egging is over-egging anyway you look at it - afer all, Brexit means Brexit), but the Carter sisters have taken the ball and run with it in their all-too-brief storyline about dealing with Sylvie's dementia and their uneasy relationship with her.
The show has been consistent when it presents family units of more than one generation, in presenting generational traits or flaws that are recogniseable from parent to child and so on. The Mitchells were defined by their alcoholism and their domestic violence - Eric bequeathed his violence to Grant, and both his alcoholism and low self-esteem to Phil. Cora Cross was a functioning alcoholic, both her daughters had drink and/or drug dependencies and her granddaughter is a recovering alcoholic also. The Butchers had abandonment issues - at various times, Frank abandoned his family, as did Diane, Ricky and Janine.
There have been patterns. And tonight, we got a look into Shirley's family, her mother's family, and we get a slightly better insight into what makes her tick. The segment dealing with Shirley, Tina and Sylvie was, without a doubt, the best and most genuinely poignant scene in the first episode today; but it had an edge.
Sylvie might not know what day it is, she might not know her children from one moment to the next, but in a vividly lucid moment, she recognised a framed picture from her youth, given her by Tina; she remembered the occasion when she was named Miss Canning Town 1958 and all the details around it - the sash she won, the best friend who helped make her frock and who shared the photo with her, her father's proud reaction when she returned home with her prize, the pub across the road with "Tulips from Amsterdam" playing on the juke box. In fact, it was hearing that song played on Tina's CD player that changed Sylvie's mood from agressively morose (spitting her porridge on Tina) to cheery happiness, singing along and then indulging in memories.
But the happy memories didn't last. We learned that whilst her father doted on her, her mother was a different story. She objected to Sylvie wearing make-up and dressing up, burned her sash prize and beat her, throwing her into the coal shed to spend the night alone and in the dark. Years later, Sylvie remembered asking her mother why she'd done that, and the old lady affected not to remember.
Shirley was a silent witness to this tale, and later, she and Tina had a confrontation about it. It's no secret that Shirley's relationship with Sylvie has been fraught. She abused Shirley - lashing out at her, throwing her down the stairs and keeping a six year-old Shirley huddled on the doorstep in the rain for 20 minutes whilst she finished her bath. Whilst Tina can be indulgent, understanding and compassionate to Sylvie's plight in her later days, Shirley can't be. There's no forgiveness there.
In fact, Tina is perceptive enough to voice the opinion that maybe, just maybe there were some women who weren't cut out to be mothers - Sylvie's mother physically abused her, Sylvie physically abused Shirley and abandoned Tina, Shirley abandoned all her children and Tina walked away from her daughter.
It's clear that Sylvie's experiences with her own mother impinged on her inability to be a mother to her own children - and, as Tina said, a lot of that was exacerbated by living with Stan. They were two people physically attracted to each other, but too self-absorbed and selfish, emanating from their earlier lives, and so they failed their children, and their children failed their children.
This gives Shirley food for thought, and in the end, she decides to do something for Mick that she's never done for any of her other children - she concocts a plan to enable him to avoid going to prison - because Sylvie's poignant story and the story of a family dealing with an elderly relative suffering from dementia, ultimately, like all the Carter stories, becomes all about Mick.
Mick is the one child Shirley has who has never grown up. He certainly isn't the only one of her children who grew up without a mother - James, Dean and Carly, whom she never mentions, grew up without her in their lives as well, and Dean certainly was affected by that. Mick, at least, was brought up, first by Babe, and then by Elaine. It's also clear now that Linda is really to Mick what Jane ultimately became to Ian - a mother-wife.
He's acting like a big, spoiled brat. He's frightened about going to prison, and he's frightened about telling Linda - about spoiling her "dream". It angers me to hear both him and the appalling Whitney still levy the bulk of blame for Mick's plight on Lee and Lee's debt. I hate that. How much debt did Lee actually run up anyway? The bulk of that debt came from paying for Whitney's big fat dirty wedding, something he shouldn't have had to do. A lot of his debt, as well, came from Whitney's whining, expensive tastes; and now that he's gone - at Mick's suggestion, a suggestion which subliminally suggested that Mick would be left on his own tod to watch approvingly as the doe-eyed Whitney idolised him into bed - they're still blaming him, when 14k of that debt came from Mick forking out via a loan to bring Linda and the ailing Elaine back from Spain. The fine was another matter; so in the general scheme of things, I'd say Lee's debt figured less than the other two combined.
Shirley also susses what Whitney is about, and as much as Whitney assumes the moral high ground, she's lying through her teeth about what she feels for Mick. Whitney will be 25 in December. Mick is 40. He is, by no means, middle-aged. He's still a man young enough to have a young family, and she certainly doesn't view him as a father figure. I'm sorry, but you don't go around sticking your tongue down your father's throat. Shirley's noticed how Whitney's slotted herself neatly into Linda's role, to the point that Mick now doesn't want to talk to Linda, is keeping secrets from Linda, and generally rising to Whitney's comforting shoulder on which to cry, like the manchild that he is.
Whilst Johnny, the ungrammatical law student, is realistic about Mick's fate if he can't come up with the 20k fine by Friday, Whitney is still urging Mick to go to the magistrates and give them the 2k raised from the takings, and they're sure to see what a good man he is and what a good business the Vic is. She's even disparaging Johnny's ambitions as his finals and his dissertation might mean he can't help look after the pub in the event of Mick doing time.
The scene between Mick and Shirley in the car revealed the true measure of Mick - the man whom Whitney idolises as being the strong hunter-gatherer, even at his weakest, drunk and crying like a baby on the roof, cuddled in her arms, she sees him as her champion prince. With Lee exiled, his father, again whom Lee idolised to the point that he literally drove himself to distraction trying to emulate, awakes to the fact that he is, in reality, the weakest link. He could preach all he wanted to Lee about "manning up" and accepting responsibility, but in the end, he's willing to step aside and let his mother assume the blame for breaking licencing laws. As Shirley told the authorities, Mick was innocent, he knew nothing of what she and Babe were doing, in their beer-with-breakfast jaunt.
I don't think this is the end of the Vic saga with Mick. Max's first open offer came tonight - and we're getting Max in dripfeed at the moment - by offering on behalf of his boss to buy the freehold of the Vic and lease it to Mick. Against the wishes of Shirley and Johnny, but not the increasingly cloying Whitney, he opted to keep this in the family. We'll see how far this goes.
But the most interesting part of Mick ultimately dominating this storyline came with the fact that, at the end of the day, Mick, himself, couldn't man up. He had to be saved from a fate he feared most - prison - by a woman. So less of Mick, and his Dirty Girl, trashing Lee as the cause of Mick's misfortunes. Mick is the master of his own fate. He's a spoiled, little kid who resents Linda's absence taking her away from him being the centre of his own special universe.
Yet another self-obsessed, self-indulgent, overgrown brat.
Shirley's 6-week sentence, revealed at the end of Part II, has become a three-month stint for perverting the course of justice. What? Jay got community service for the same thing, and he was harbouring a killer.
The Beat Goes On. Yoof. The worm turns, to a degree, in the first part, with Shakil and Rebecca.
I thought Louise had agreed to admit her part to the police in sending the picture of Shakil, but it looks as though she didn't. In both instances tonight, in the first part, Rebecca and Shakil turned on their nemeses. If this is really a storyline about different aspects of bullying, it's working to a degree in its depiction.
Really, is Louise so afraid of Sniggle and Snaggle that she does their bidding and makes friendly with Rebecca just to find out if she's daubed the terrible twins in the controversy with the police. Honestly, do they think she's that stupid that she wouldn't see them standing, cowards, across the street from her front door, as Louise was meant to do their bidding and find out information.
Instead, Rebecca confronts them, head on, telling them that if they had anything to ask her, the should do that to her face. They wouldn't, however. They are the sort of bullies who roam in packs or pairs, because one reinforces the other. They must have Louise scared shitless, however; she can only make half-hearted attempts to stand up to them, and those attempts usually result in her storming off, as she did today.
I don't know why they're worried. We know that they egged Louise on to pinch Rebecca's phone and distribute Shakil's picture, but there's no actual proof. Even if Louise or Rebecca had nobbled them, there is only their word against these girls, who are abysmally poor cartoon characters. When Sniggle tried to be smart and responded to Rebecca, saying that she'd tried to ring her, but Rebecca wouldn't pick up, she nearly shat herself when Rebecca told her that the police had taken Rebecca's phone.
They seemed cowed when they learned that Rebecca had taken the entire blame for everything, the interview at the police station, the embarrassing questions, the caution and the external isolation from school on herself, with the ironic part being that she was the person who had done absolutely nothing (except be stupid enough to keep Shakil's picture.)
In an effort not to be cowed by this, the pair immediately change the dynamic to taunt Rebecca because she appeared to have been crying, then passing on the story about Rebecca having been seen being led away by the police from the school in tears, and finally accusing her of still liking Shakil.
I don't quite understand their animosity to Shakil or their affrontage to the fact that she could or should even remotely like him.
In a similar situation, the seriously warped Keegan has infiltrated the Kazemi home, where Shakil is under house arrest, being made to clean house for Carmel. He's appropriated Shakil's games console and is amusing himself whilst relating an exaggerated tale of Rebecca being led in handcuffs, screaming, from the school, and plotting even more revenge to enact upon her.
In his best performance yet, Shakil goes apeshit and starts beating the shit out of the little toerag, rightly accusing him of starting everything with Rebecca. Once again, the taunts come back from him to Shakil about Shakil still liking Rebecca. Carmel interrupts, but the gist with Keegan is that he is someone who can only bully, intimidate, humiliate and mistreat women or girls. The moment someone of his own gender turns on him, he runs. Shakil got the best of him.
Carmel, who's just come from an epic whinge session and self-pity party with Denise playing counsellor, whilst talking about organising (sigh) a community meeting to discuss the council's inaction in Walford. The whinge session becomes a lament all about themselves, with Denise patting herself on the back for having brought her daughters up so well without father figures - conveniently forgetting how Chelsea tried to have an innocent man imprisoned simply because he preferred Carly Wicks to her (or, indeed, how Denise tried to cover Chelsea's crime up).
It doesn't take Carmel long to suss that Keegan was behind sending the link - and as she reiterated to Denise, Shakil was guilty, but not as guilty as Rebecca, which Denise riposted something along the lines of ...
It's always the quiet ones.
As if you're kids' and stepkids' shit doesn't smell, Denise! I seem to recall Jordan is a thief and Dean a rapist, amongst other things.
But Carmel's rant at Shakil about him taking responsibility simply morphs into a rant about his self-absorption, which, actually, then morphs into a rant all about herself and what she does for Shakil. Every day. Every week. She literally does everything for him except wipe his arse, and she has the gall to wonder why he thinks only of himself.
He actually had the most truthful line of the show when he remarked that ...
Everybody only thinks about themselves.
Of course, he's going to think only of himself, when he's got the supreme narcissist before him as a role model. Carmel wants to be the centre of everyone's attention. When she offered to help Denise organise the meeting, she made sure she reminded her that she'd have Arthur with her. It was baby yoga day, her "gran" day, and rather than returning him to his parents, she was going to play nana and swing him by for an afternoon at Denise's gossiping.
I was actally hoping for Shakil to shut her up by telling her that he couldn't help but care about nothing and no one but himself, because that's what he's been raised to do.
What an awful, awful woman.
Bits. They're giving us Max on drip-feed, including a scene where he passes Lauren with the briefest of greetings, and it looks as though Dennis's blackmail is working. And Whitney, who's responsible for her own marriag ending, giving romance tips to Lauren to spice up her relationship with Steven? Really? She's bored because Steven seems to have no libido, and she's bored already with her kid? What a stupid little girl. As for Steven's lack of romantic interest, could it be that he just might be a little bit gay?
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