TV: Banana viii

And so we come to the end of Cucumber's little sister show. Banana has come in eight weird and wonderfully diverse packages, topped off with a callback to both the third episode of the series, and the last two of Cucumber. But you needn't have see any of those three marvellous pieces of television to enjoy this spellbinding climax. 

Vanessa is a contract industrial cleaner, who employs Jonjo to source labour. Many of his subjects are of course immigrants, but these are young girls from Africa. When one reaches out to Vanessa, telling her what he's done, and asking for help, there's a caustic reaction to say the least. From Vanessa's good nature in Sue Perkins' excellent episode earlier this series, viewers can be fairly confident that she'll make things right in the end somehow. 

Over the course of fifteen minutes or so, dedicated entirely to strong actresses Lynn Hunter and Nikki Fagbemi, the pair learn to communicate in a method transcending language. Vanessa is furious that Zara has told her about it. She's known about it for years, but now the hard decision comes as she's forced into action by the rules of television. There's a lovely little number at the end too. And there's a sting in the tale that'll leave you with a massive grin across your face.

It must be said that this episode really doesn't fit the format established by the preceding seven, including two by Davies himself. In a way, it resembles the others in that it forces the protagonist/s to take a stand and do what they feel is right. But there's no love story here. In our last ever visit to the Calico Flats, they're transformed and there's hope on the horizon for Vanessa's workers, with the possibility of moving in.

Banana's been an odd little series, often only loosely linked to the main show, but I've loved it. It's delivered exceptional drama, admittedly not quite on the scale of Cucumber, but great nonetheless. It's pushed the boundaries of modern TV, and has been unashamedly frank in its storytelling. The best four episodes for me were the first three (chronicling Dean, Scotty and Sian) and the sixth (written by and starring Charlie Covell) but there's been moments in all of them that I've liked.

I'm very grateful to everyone who worked on this interesting little series for brightening the TV landscape. While change will inevitably slow, hopefully this series, along with its sister programme, have started something of a revolution. That said, Queer  as Folk made barely any lasting impact, as well as that was received. We can live in hope. If this was all it was meant to be, that's still great. 

TV: Banana vii

This is something of an oddity, even amongst Banana episodes. Unrequited love is a topic that hasn't really been covered - it could be argued it was briefly with Josh and Sophie in episode five, but it was hardly the focus. Here, Frank ends up in a threesome with the more conventionally handsome Ben and Aidan, and pursues the latter the following morning, looking for something more.

The pair flirt with the idea for a morning - we even get to flash forward nine months - but ultimately hunky Aidan ends it. They were clearly never meant to be though, with Frank more invested from the start. At first, you think it will work out, Aidan will drop his prejudices, and they'll live happily ever after, thanks to the general shape of the series so far. But unfortunately, it isn't to be.

Instead this ends up as both a cynical and an optimistic commentary on modern society. Cynical because of its sleight against modern values, and not appreciating the opportunities we're given. Rushing into things without full consideration. Aidan just can't go out with someone that he doesn't find physically attractive, and that's fine. Some people are just like that. But so much prominence is devoted to that topic that I can't help but feel it was an intentional stab by the writer. And to address my second proposition, I find this optimistic because it tells us that any day - every day - could be day one. You might find the person you're supposed to be with any day, and that's a magical notion. 

Luke Snellin's episodes seem to have been those that are slightly off-kilter for me. That's not to say they're bad, but they're certainly the exceptions of the series - if a series as varied as this can have a norm to deviate from. The final episode of the series looks to be a whopper, and I for one can't wait. This has been a very interesting series, one that's dared to push the boundaries in all the right ways, and I'm so grateful we got it. The quality of storytelling we're getting here is pretty much unparalleled in today's television landscape. Trust Davies to be the one to broaden our minds - again. 

Excellently made, but lacking a certain something.

TV: Banana vi

Charlie Covell returns to script her second episode of the series, and also stars as the main protagonist, Amy. Right from the off, we're shown everything we need to know about her. She's performed extremely well by Covell, and it's clear that the writer knows her character inside out, adding little tics to the performance. I really liked the way this was subtly package as a day in the life for Amy as she bounces from home to work to dinner, all the while scared stiff that everyone she sees will drop dead if she doesn't do all she can.

After a few minutes' adjustment, I found Covell to be really quite endearing in the role. This is half an hour of character drama with one of the most likeable characters Banana has presented us with. We've all had the moment where we clam up or gabble at the worst possible moment, and Amy gets for an entire evening when she goes on a date with policewoman Kay. Really, Kay is quite peripheral to the whole thing, which is more concerned with showing us that there's someone out there for everyone.

The entire episode is shot beautifully by Al Mackay, yet another director Banana has introduced me to. From his previous work (largely as a location manager) it seems something of a gamble was taken on him by executive producer Nicola Shindler (who I don't praise nearly enough!) and co. It totally paid off me, and indicates that he should have a bright future in this field. The images broadcast were particularly photogenic, but his command of actors clearly isn't slack either. The moment in the last scene where the buildings around our two leads light up was electric. In the preceding moments, that's exactly what I was imagining I would do. It's a rare occasion when I actually second guess what's coming next, so this was quite pleasing.

Although there wasn't any tangible jeopardy in this episode was as with, for example, Bethany Black's a couple of weeks ago, the will she/won't she of the date (and following it) is made into more than enough of an event. TV focuses on the small moments that mean so much to the individual, making this series especially refreshing. Something of a recurrent theme creator Russell T Davies likes using is asking how bad things can get. Most recently, this has been 'how badly wrong can a date go?'. For Cucumber lead Lance, episodes one and six of the parent show have answered that, one ending with his arrest, and the other with his murder, briefly mentioned here. It's nice to see Amy appear to completely mess things up, only to still get the girl in contrast to the expectation created by Davies.

This is one of the stronger episodes of the series, which is saying something. Covell writes economically and succinctly, but still manages to convey wholesome characters and situations. The closing moment is one of joy and adrenaline in the best sense. The feeling that anything could happen next is positively tangible, and accompanied by a typically pacey and appropriate soundtrack from Ben Foster, it's hard not to be moved. If only we could all have nights like this. Standout drama once again from Team Davies; I love it.

TV: Cucumber/Banana/Tofu vi

reviews by Tom Newsom (Twitter | Flickr | Blog)

I watched this a couple of hours ago, and I’m still shaken by it. It’s a beautiful episode, hardly a tough watch in that regard, but god, it stays with you.

Look, just watch it. If you haven’t already - you don’t even need to see the rest of the series really, it’s pretty stand-alone. And in the context of the rest of the series, this seems to be the big one. So, give it a watch - you won’t regret it.

I’m going to be very vague, even though I don’t need to be. Because the set-up before the opening titles lets us in on its secret just enough to set the tone of what’s to come: poignant, tense, often quite dangerous, true.

I’m amazed that this episode was conceived alongside the others. The bouncy comedy that made up some of the previous episodes was written with this in mind, it was acted and shot and edited too. Though of course, this still has the same bounce. The humour becomes black humour, thanks to that dangerous mood lingering over it all.

God. Leaving aside the perfect, inventive acting (Cyril Nri in particular) and everything else, this is the sort of episode that is defined by its writing. If somebody only recounted the plot, it would miss every point there is (and probably turn some of it into issues that aren’t there). This is impeccably handled. What sets it above is the investment we’ve had in the last five weeks (not knowing a thing - consciously!), plus the investment put in to this episode when recalling somebody’s life history in fifty minutes. And then, dramatic scenes, layers and layers of it. And an ending that will shake you and make you cry.

This is a must-see. And afterwards, read this incredible online interview with Russell T Davies.

This week’s Banana is cannily placed, offering a breezy antidote to what’s just happened on the other channel, but with a darker side that fits with the parent show. The link this week appears more tenuous - I don’t think these characters are even in it, at least not this week - but the theme of sudden death comes up over and over.

Because the main character here has anxiety and OCD (at least, that was my interpretation). After six episodes I’m realising that this is, happily, a character based show rather than relying on plot. Last week’s was blissful even when nothing particularly was happening - this episode feels the same. What’s more it’s striving to put people centre stage that don’t normally get focussed on, like most ‘teen’ dramas really.

Amy (played and written by rapidly rising star Charlie Covell) has a date with Kay (a policewoman with few lines but big impact), but is trying to get over her own problems first. It’s quirky rather than mawkish, cute rather than sexy, and the final scene is absolutely lovely.

Tofu luckily doesn’t fit with the theme here. Although there’s some talk of the episode of Cucumber above - you’d be hard pressed to escape it.

This is the episode that felt more like a behind-the-scenes (mostly cast interviews and a lot of clips of the other two series, admittedly well chosen). Which is fine, but this one goes for the widespread general question of: ‘what’s it like filming sex scenes?’. As well as watching and writing - hey, it’s Russell, hooray!

There’s also clips and discussion of Queer as Folk - not massively, but tying all the series together.

many thanks to

Tom Newsom (Twitter | Flickr | Blog)

TV: Banana v

Conversely to our other reviewer, Tom Newsom, I felt curiously unmoved by this week's episode of Banana despite it theoretically being more relatable for me. Law student Josh (Luke Newberry) returns home from Manchester to the sleepy countryside where he grew up for his oldest friend Sophie's wedding, but when he meets the groom, he's less than thrilled. Both of these two central characters are only eighteen, so it does seem a little soon for two especially hedonistic characters to want to settle down. 

Despite what Sophie thinks, there is a lot of evidence, even in this episode, that she is impulsive. To name just two instances, she hired the car at Josh's expense without asking, and she doesn't want to get married just as quickly as she did want to get married.

Josh and Sophie never really seemed to hook me in. Their relationship is appreciable and engaging enough, but there's nothing that really excites me, including the arguments. Don't get me wrong, I can still tell it's quality drama, I just wasn't noticeably moved by it. After the high drama of Cucumber, coming to this breezy, sun-filled episode jars a little. One of the themes of the two series is that love is everywhere, and it's nice to have a break from the usual rough structure to show its extent, and how it's not always experienced in a romantic sense.

One of the strengths of Russell T Davies' writing is that actions have consequences. This episode of Banana is pretty carefree, and so goes against the series' tone a little. However, I can appreciate the strength of the writing. Matthew Barry, fresh from helming the Death in Paradise finale, skips channels and genres without too many hiccups. I like that none of the five episodes so far have put a definite end on their stories. Josh and Sophie's is left more ambiguous than most though, as they sit in a lay-by, eating burgers. Rather than the all-encompassing pool of emotion the closing seconds usually dive into, we end on a single, admittedly amusing, line from Josh.

I can't put my finger on what it was that didn't work for me about this episode. Luke Snellin shot the whole thing in a lovely light,  one that Barry Shitpeas would probably label 'Instagrammy'. Ben Foster's music again strikes a chord, punctuating the action perfectly. There's undoubted quality being piled into this series, it just seems that this episode dropped the ball momentarily for me. Still one of the best things on telly at the moment though.

TV: Cucumber/Banana/Tofu v

reviews by Tom Newsom (Twitter | Flickr | Blog)

Henry is lost in the wilderness. It’s a fab visual concept to bookend the episode with - a wrong turn leading Henry through the trees instead of that same supermarket. But it’s not just a fancy image, there’s a narrative theme: he’s lost the house, the job, the boyfriend and control over the rest of his life. Even Murray Gold’s music is increasingly offbeat and odd (very different to his usual orchestra style of Doctor Who and The Musketeers - and very good!)

Essentially this is the comedown from last week’s one mad night. The mundane, more realistic romantic encounters where the hope has slightly dimmed: Freddie and Henry was rarely going to spark, even if he enjoys it, whilst Daniel and Lance has turned into something cautious, another power imbalance. Daniel in particular is probably an insane character on the page but played so well (played straight!). Casting all round is a dream.

The standout scene this time is Lance and Henry at the end of the episode - a little like the end of episode 2, but everything has changed. Over coffee and Henry’s attempts to express his thoughts, the conversation shifts so fluidly, with subtle points scored over the other. So much is going on in their faces - it’s an acting tour de force.

And Cleo! Oh, Cleo. The moment where she tells Henry about her daughter and the unintended consequences is electrifying and the right kind of unexpected. And all this dovetails into Russell T Davies’s short spinoff, a scene they’ve filmed between Cleo and her son available online. It’s called Screwdriver - it’s heartfelt, scary and surprisingly close to the mark. It merits a place on TV - but online there’s a chance it’s seen by more people.

Banana is a bit plotless, but oh very satisfying.

I fully understand that this could be personal. The world that’s depicted here is one that I recognise more than the others (not that I empathise with the characters any more, but the actual world - the tech, the language, the relationships). I felt engaged in it too - the plot is thin, yes, but it has a clear view and a message. The ‘old vs young’ theme carries over from Cucumber, along with some of the big dramatic life changing decisions.

Luke Newberry (incredibly briefly popping up on the parent show) from the ace In the Flesh plays Josh, but the episode cleverly is more about Chloe Harris (The Village in particular) as bride-to-be Sophie. I’d watch a show with just the two of them, which is what this often feels like. And it all looks gorgeously sunny with a great soundtrack. Though I think that two scenes of characters wanking is probably enough for one night.

And to Tofu - which shouldn’t really be an ‘and’, it’s a breeze to watch. This fifth episode is sparky and cheeky as ever. Titled ‘Teenage Lust’, it’s a well edited, fast paced look at the first experiences of our interviewees.

many thanks to

Tom Newsom (Twitter | Flickr | Blog)

TV: Banana iv

It feels staggering that this story hasn't been done before. Transexual Helen is plagued by obsessive ex-boyfriend Eddie as she tries to move on with her life. He clearly feels some kind of entitlement and ownership over Helen. He might feel because she isn't 'ordinary' he feels that he is owed for treating her like she was. The dismissal of this idea is the concept at the heart of this episode of Banana, and I'm very pleased by this.

The first act concerns Eddie, Helen and potential new flame Ross. On Helen's birthday, Eddie shows up at her flat bearing a second-hand DVD and a whole heap of trouble. Later, he shows up at the restaurant where she works before gatecrashing her date with Ross, whose defiance is really heartwarming. Following a fight, Eddie posts a sex tape of him and Helen online. 

The second act is an entirely different beast and features only Helen and her parents and brother. It's no wornder newcomer Charlie Covell was commissioned for two episodes of this series. In half an hour, she encapsulates twenty-first century values as they should be. Helen's parents are without judgement and there are some particularly touching conversations between our lead and various family members. The chaos as the tape spreads is tense and palpable thanks to Lewis Arnold's strong direction, in what I believe is his last episode of the series. He's helmed the first half of Banana, and given it its own identity, whilst linking closely to the parent series.

Bethany Black is superb in the role of Helen, and it's shocking that this is the first time a transexual person has played a transexual character on British television. It's right that Russell T Davies be there at this landmark though. Hopefully more light will be shone on such characters in future, without giving it such prominence that it smacks of trying to be 'different'. I can't begin to understand the trauma people must go through in this situation, but Covell's writing and Black's performance successfully convey its enormity.

When it comes down to it, the plot at the heart of the episode has nothing to do with Helen (formerly Ken)'s gender though. It's just a heartwarming tale of a family pulling together. I look forward to Covell's next episode greatly. There's some neat little tricks in this script, such as the ongoing passive-aggressive feud between Helen and slack waitress Grace, that complete the realism of the piece and give it immeasurable depth. There's some really strong performances too - Dean Andrews and Christine Mackie as Helen's parents spring to mind. Another incredibly strong episode, and it seems that Cucumber and Banana really can do no wrong by me.

TV: Cucumber/Banana/Tofu iv

reviews by Tom Newsom (Twitter | Flickr | Blog)

Stand down other TV shows - you’d be hard pressed to beat this. For an episode halfway through a drama, with a delicious concept, this is bold and ever so interesting. This episode could only come from Cucumber: four (or five) stories, all about the characters, also all about sex at the same time. It’s often outrageous as you might expect, but tinged with melancholy and humanity.

The premise is our main characters going on individual dates over the course of one night, with the episode cutting between them. It’s the fourth episode, we know and care about them now, but half of the date is a new character we haven’t met before. And since the whole episode is set on the one night, it feels self contained and accessible almost as a jumping-on point for viewers.

So, to the dates. Some are, as you’d expect, disastrous. The rest are even more so. In other shows, we might be in danger of repeating ourselves but not here - characters get pushed further out of their comfort zones, especially Henry here on his date with the lively, ‘nice’ Rufus Hound (who’s never not convincing).

It feels less like a collection of individual stories and much more like a whole - helped by some clever intercutting at the start - notably set to ‘Some Nights’ by Fun, nicely chosen - I said it’s about sex - both gay and straight, both doing it and not being able do it - and that’s reflected by the dinner part of the dates being quite short and suitably mad! But each has questions with no easy answers. Cleo’s situation (remarkably real ‘backstory’ for a character in a telly drama), relationships like Freddie’s and how it reflects on him, how Lance is affected by his relationship with Henry too, and where Henry wants to go from here. But it balances all this with a lot of light relief - in all the stories, but especially Dean’s.

As a standout highlight, the cafe scene halfway through, with Henry almost giving a monologue, is so so good. Not only is it very funny and true, it felt to me very close to the writer’s voice, if I can guess at that. Certainly it underlines more of the themes of the series, which is determined to get under Henry’s skin.

Some people - I hope you’re watching both of these shows - are preferring Banana to the parent series, which is fine. They’re both great telly, and Banana offers the closure every week that you get with an anthology rather than something continuing over eight weeks. Shorter stories can be much sweeter.

This nicely links in with Cucumber, even having its own disastrous date. Main character Helen is a brilliant focus for the events that follow - former goth Bethany Black is so good in the role, likeable and strong willed. That said, the whole thing is pretty much stolen near the end by her mum, played by Christine Mackie, showing you where she gets it from. Both the characters and the plot are gripping, with the production full of neat touches, making this a really well rounded, classy episode of the series.

I said before that this is the first proper trans representation in a drama, in 2015. But now the episode has come around, it doesn’t feel worth mentioning. It’s a drama that has its cake and eats it, with both not making it central to the drama (this horrible act could have happened to anyone, though Helen’s more affected than some), but still very much touching on ‘issues’ - in a positive light. It’s representation without needing it stated all the time. You wouldn’t want some of these scenes - family acceptance ones - all the time, certainly if they weren’t as well written as they were in this. But there’s still such a need for these stories to be even mentioned at all on TV, let alone foregrounded like this.

And this week’s Tofu goes a bit serious (more serious) and tackles a big subject: everything to do with coming out. Its tone is incredibly fresh, it’s built around somebody going through it, and the overall documentary is probably one of the best things there is on the subject.

The surprising thing for me that I’d never considered, was that many young people now have grown up with Youtube, which is quite scary and quite wonderful when you consider all the possibilities for self expression that’s been out there for the last eight to ten years. Although actually the most surprising thing about this was that Fisayo Akinade is 27! 

many thanks to

Tom Newsom (Twitter | Flickr | Blog)

TV: Cucumber/Banana/Tofu iii

reviews by Tom Newsom (Twitter | Flickr | Blog)

You’d be forgiven for thinking Henry, the main character in Cucumber, had been sidelined in this week’s third episode. But the writing is clever enough to keep with the same themes that encompass the series - a yearning for lost youth, particularly - and run with them whilst focusing on other characters. In this case, the ultra handsome Freddie. For those watching both, it doesn’t feel like a Banana storyline; it’s messier than that.

But more on that later, first: Henry and Lance. After last week’s post-breakup breakup, there’s some fun scenes of revenge, but also some subtle warmth between them in moments of peace. To last out a relationship like that for nine years, there must be common ground, even when the characters seem distinct and their plotlines vary - Henry moping, Lance playing with fire. The episode is dedicated to the younger folk - Henry’s nephew gets an interesting role in this; he’s a very modern character, painted in broad strokes here. But this feeds into Henry’s reawakening, as he begins to address some of his problems. (Of course, addressing them through the medium of Crossroads and Katy Perry, though that makes it more poignant)

Freddie’s plot then - it’s a good one. Layered, shades of grey, for the most part more tragedy than comedy. When he encounters his old friend - friends - we’re immediately wary, but the story is handled in such a way that it doesn’t quite end up how you thought it would. It walks a fine line between viewpoints, delving right into Freddie’s character in how he handles the situation, even sometimes being quite provocative, but it never feels (intentionally) issue-led. Perhaps that’s because it’s grounded in what the characters feel, even if they are wrong, rather than what the traditional narrative might be. Cucumber is rarely traditional, happily, or it wouldn’t be as much fun to watch.

And also, in this third episode, there’s the first proper sex scene we’ve had - you can’t miss it. In the first two episodes, and before in this one, it’s been off-camera, behind closed doors (and wobbly walls), and mainly used as a joke, often a dark one. Here its right at the heart of the drama, played as a power struggle, though it’s still taken seriously. Bold for the timeslot possibly, but it’s the sort of scene that you could only have in a drama like this. The comedy here is as top as it has been, but this week the ambiguities live on in your mind too. Hats off to the writing, directing and acting in particular.

Sue Perkins was one of the most prominently-publicised writers when Banana was announced, and perhaps the prospect of an episode from her - a one-off, potentially her view of gay life - was building this up too much.

But happily, as a short slice of drama, it delivers. It’s a love story: two girls get together, move in, stuff happens. The scenes are brisk, the details slight, but it feels real.

One of its biggest achievements, notable by their absence, is the complete lack of clichés - in the relationship, in the drama, even in the plot in these things. Before the episode aired I saw an interview with her for the series, and she ponders that what she might take for granted as a stereotypical behaviour for lesbians might not be the case, and vice versa. Perhaps she needn’t have worried about trying to portray the ‘everywomen’ - flawed-character-heavyCucumber has been chided by some viewers for not being that, but that’s drama. The relationship is stripped back to just two individual and distinctive young women, whose problems have nothing to do with them being gay, but thankfully the writer has included just enough detail to make the story her own - a cheeky game in the supermarket stands out, as do the lively, clever opening scenes.

And then there’s the story between Sian, one of the two girls, and her mother, who’s also gay. Their relationship and her upbringing feels very new and fresh and very well handled. Actually it’s probably a stronger, more human storyline than the lesbian romance. But even that is treated with more depth and feeling than you’d normally expect. It’s really good.

And to Tofu - which proves this week it’s not going to be a one-trick pony as it’s not about sex. No, really - it’s about people who choose not to have sex, in a documentary that’s otherwise about people doing it. 

There’s a smaller range of interviewees on this subject, so we get a much better picture of them - some surprisingly young, some older, all well chosen and eloquent and characterful (and all female, which perhaps raises another question about the issue, along with the few raised in this episode). 

The ‘sketch’ in the middle is lovely and quite mad, in a different way this week.

many thanks - and a very happy birthday - to

Tom Newsom (Twitter | Flickr | Blog)