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: 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: 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)

TV: Cucumber/Banana/Tofu ii

reviews by Tom Newsom (Twitter | Flickr | Blog)

Watching all three of these new shows together, you don’t need to be reminded which one is which. Cucumber is something special - there’s a brilliant, very human breakup story running through the series, including this episode. It’s definitely not written 15 years ago -a texted pleading to meet again is gloriously cut together between two people looking at screens, one with loud music blaring, one without. Later, both characters are texting whilst trying to have an argument, adding layers to the relationship - really just making things crueller.

The secret is the characters on show are behaving exactly as we feel they should. Henry is full to the brim with likeable faults (in this he gets fired unfairly, but doesn’t make it easy for himself), and also full of old-school desire for things he’s never going to have. To identify with this main character you don’t have to be gay or over 40 - although it might help. It’s about ever wanting to speak your mind or aiming for somebody who’s out of your league, I’m sure there can’t be many who haven’t been Henry before.

Both he and Lance (and Cliff) are distinct and slightly contradictory and very alive. Meanwhile Daniel the diver is still a tosser (but a very well played tosser). He remains an interesting character because we can’t fully figure out his motivations. And Freddie (Fox) makes a big impression here, getting not one but two ‘spellbinding’ scenes.

The whole thing zips along with humour, plot and funky everything, working effortlessly towards the scene for a possible conclusion before yanking it away again. All this and Russell T Davies hits gold again in the opening sequence - the first episode had suggestive vegetables, the second episode has the incredible ‘Henry Test’. Cucumber deserves to be influential with quality ideas like this.

Not that Banana isn’t too shabby. This week’s is very, very well written - I didn’t realise it was, again, written by Russell until the end - it’s a pure standalone story. I thought I knew where it was going (lesbian main character, after the gay man story last week), and barely 30 seconds into it there’s a twist, and the episode becomes something far better.

There’s some great casting too - Rosie Cavaliero is notable after last year’s Prey, for which she got one or two odd, undeserved insults from critics. About halfway through there’s a moment where somebody is described as being kind whilst in a supermarket queue - that’s a lovely image, and of course it would be one of the moments that we’d be at our best.

Meanwhile in the online land of Tofu, the documentary series gets even more adult, and frank, than last week’s opener. At least not at the start - but after, fittingly, talking about how we don’t always talk about sex, we’re treated to people talking about just that. But always in a funny, well presented way.

many thanks to

Tom Newsom (Twitter | Flickr | Blog)

TV: Cucumber/Banana/Tofu i

reviews by Tom Newsom (Twitter | Flickr | Blog)

 Russell T Davies is back!

I say ‘back’ - he’s been all over CBBC for the last eight years, not to mention taking Torchwood, his post-watershed baby, over to the US. And then there’s Doctor Who - the pivotal, ground-breaking, Saturday-night-defining continuation of the original show (and where thirteen year old me first encountered his work, for obvious reasons). Not to mention what he started off doing - ‘adult’ drama, a bit like this. And oh boy, you can tell it’s by Russell.

Not just the subject matter - Cucumber features the lives of gay men as his hit series Queer as Folk did (high up on my to-watch list, but sadly I haven’t seen it). You can tell because it’s pure, pleasing telly drama. He makes you laugh and cry in the same scene, sometimes at the same time. He writes gloriously human characters. He can be subversive, educating, but always entertaining. With Doctor Who (and the spinoffs too) he wanted children to be able to tell quality drama, forcing everybody else to raise their game. And the same works with drama for adults.

This is a show (three shows) about sex. That’s upfront, right in the titles and the striking opening sequence. Bold doesn’t quite cover it - even though there’s very little ‘sex’ in these, people discuss sex, their lives revolve around it, or not having it. It feels totally different to anything else and it shows there are still plenty of stories out there to tell.

Some people have reacted badly to this: what happened to this being a modern ‘gay drama’ that demolishes those sorts of stereotypes? Well, it still does that - but it’s not a ‘gay drama’ (though it is 'mainstream'), it’s really about one gay man, Henry. And he’s flawed, deliberately so. His relationship has cracks, he hates his friends, he looks at the young people with envy. He works in insurance. His life is about to fall apart. And all this is winningly played by Vincent Franklin, who embodies the part and makes it work. That’s where the story is here and it’s so promising for the rest of the series.

That and, naturally, the cruellest date ever, the best sound effects in a drama in some time, the best use of pop music, some absolutely perfect casting, the most outrageous jokes and scenes. Conceived and written over years, Russell T Davies is on top form. This first episode is all killer, and highly recommended.

It’s not alone - scheduled afterwards is a companion series (I watched on a different day - too much of a good thing) called Banana - think a fruitier, more diverse series of shorter stories. I like the concept, as it leaves Cucumber to be able to concentrate on just its main characters, whilst this series picks up the loose threads. The promise of more drama like this is exciting on its own - eight episodes that cover lesbian characters, bisexuals, transgender (how is this series featuring the first representation by a trans actor, in 2015?!) and more.

The first episode of Banana is deceptively lightweight - if you’ve seen the first episode of Cucumber, it’s not entirely surprising (and I’m not that sure from the first episode if it would work as a series on its own). This just takes one of the young supporting characters and fills in lots of blanks. 

Here, Dean (astonishingly natural newcomer Fisayo Akinade) is another character that’s really interesting to explore on screen, and like everyone, doesn’t fit into the standard narrative we first might think. 

There’s a few neat twists to it, a few outrageous (and modern) moments of sex. It’s Russell T Davies (writing both this week) continuing the mad, funny, human world he’s created.

And then there’s Tofu - an online documentary series cleverly linked to the other two by the titles, by interviewing the cast, sharing some of the same crew... and being all about sex. It’s rude but frank, definitely for adults, and often hilarious. The quite lengthy ten minute running time flew by - documentary maker Ben Cook makes it incredibly watchable. 

What I originally considered as something extra to the series is strong enough to stand next to the drama. After all, it’s all about the same subject. Tofu, then, is the series boiled down into its rawest, perhaps least sexy, form: honest, funny, and much stranger than fiction.

many thanks to

Tom Newsom (Twitter | Flickr | Blog)