TV: Cucumber vii

There's a few ways to go following a death. Russell T Davies' choice sits perfectly well with me. However much we can now see the first six episodes of Cucumber were the story of Lance, it's always been about Henry. Following the death of a loved one, most of us are something of a mess, especially emotionally. The seventh episode in the series follows Henry as he struggles to come to terms with his loss. I've read reviews complaining that this is an inconsistent episode, but that seems to be entirely the point to me. Grief, like love, is like no other emotion, and everyone handles it differently.

We begin at Lance's funeral, where Henry resents the deceased's sister Marie revelling in all the sympathy. He retires to the safety of his friends, and I'm pleased to say the marvellous Con O'Neill as lawyer Cliff features very prominently in this episode. This is an illustriously heady mix of emotions like you've not seen before. There's much sorrow as Henry balls his eyes out, lust as he and his flatmates chase down a man with a little help from Grindr, anger as he rages at Marie, and finally ecstasy in the closing moments.

The scene between Freddie, Dean and Henry in the car as they wait for a shower to pass is one of those that should go down as a writing masterclass. Davies proves once again how good he is at writing characters trapped in a confined space - as he has rightly received much acclaim for doing in Doctor Who's Midnight. At the top of the episode, we see Freddie ready to leave the flat, to move into a place that's more expensive, smaller, but with better prospects of sex. Slowly though, he reverses that decision and really grows up from the hedonistic thrill-seeker we were introduced to at the start of the series into a young man more focused and driven. His girlfriend seems to have been forgotten, but that's understandable really. 

There's so many superb scenes in this, and I think Vincent Franklin must be in every single one of them. A lot is demanded of him, but as always he more than rises to the challenge. I can totally understand Davies' comments in a video interview for Channel 4 that he knew he had his Henry as soon as Franklin entered the room. He embodies the character, and makes him one of my favourite of all time. The scene in the bar (the same one as in short tie-in drama Screwdriver?) between him and Marie is icily electric. She comes across as a real bitch, thanks to a solid performance from Adjoa Andoh, and it's oh so satisfying to see her storm from 'her' house at the conclusion.

I knew the flats were going to play a part towards the end of the series. How, though, I couldn't have predicted. The mystery of the cheap rent was built up so much over the opening episodes, I could tell it was going to come back to bite our leads. And indeed it does as 'Roderick' decides to reclaim everything on his property. The scenes of Henry standing still, watching barefoot as the shit hits the fan, are just mesmerising. In an unmentioned twist of irony, it may well have been better for Freddie if he had moved out after all.

It's so good to have Euros Lyn's work back on our screen. There's several memorable high shots in this episode, and he accurately captures the scale of every scene. I know I've praised him every week, but Vincent Franklin is once again the star of the show, and Con O'Neill is just fantastic as Cliff. There's no supermarket scene here, because things have moved on. Although it must conform to TV standards to some extent, I love how much of a natural flow Cucumber has. Events that would normally be saved for a finale surprise the audience two episodes early (was I the only one wondering whether there'd be a marriage, not a death, by the way?), leading us to question just how big Davies plans to go next week. The final scene really does feel like the end of the series, so I can't wait to see where Cucumber goes in its last ever (sob!) episode. 

TV: Cucumber v

As funny as Cucumber is - whether its characters realise it or not - it seems to be edging more and more towards a tragedy, in the classical sense, with every episode. The two main characters - Henry and Lance - are forcing their lives to be increasingly separate, even though clearly neither of them really want it. Of the pair, though, it is ironic that Henry, who was initially the one less keen to settle down, is now missing his partner far more than he is missed.

And Henry can't do wrong for right, either. His little foray into internet videos has left his relationship with his sister burned and his mugs smashed. The scene between Cleo and her brother in her kitchen is one of those great Russell T Davies moments of delivering something completely credible, but completely unexpected as she recounts trauma her daughter has gone through as a direct result of his attempted money-spinner. It's just as well Cleo intervenes and shuts the whole thing down when she does, to be honest, as it seems to be spiralling out of hand. More and more boys are showing up to be in the videos, and they're beginning to question why they need Henry. Indirectly, she's saved his bacon.

Speaking of which, Lance's chances of hooking up with Daniel seem to be improving. After spending a very private evening together, the latter's sexuality is surely being called into question. As Anjli Mohindra's Ronnie Chandra (very original!) posits, it does seem likely that Daniel is at least bisexual, but doesn't know it. I'm sure that realising you're gay is one of the biggest moments of your life, and Banana isn't quite long enough to show us that journey. Taking place over a few months, Cucumber provides the right kind of scale, and how interesting to see a man in his thirties undergo that journey. He clearly enjoys his time with Lance, but the confusion in his mind is just as clearly distressing, leading to certain scenes across the series of him refusing to interact with Lance, deciding it's easier to shut it out. 

I continue to be amazed by the production values of this series, too. I don't know whose idea it was, but the imagery of Henry in the forest is stunning, visually and metaphorically. One of the things I've loved about this show since the beginning is how bold it is, and this episode is no different. I love the little supermarket cutaways at the start of each instalment, and the way Alice Troughton shoots her little expansion, which is neatly referenced at the climax of Lance and Henry's lengthy cafe scene, is superb.

Vincent Franklin is once again staggeringly good as Henry, with his strongest scenes being the two handers with Cleo (Julie Hesmondhalgh) and Lance (Cyril Nri), especially that which closes this episode. The shot as his world finally collapses entirely is quite harrowing. No imagination is demanded of the viewer, Franklin puts it all on display. It's clear now that this was merely a phase for Henry, and he did want to move back home. He's blown his chance though, and has to deal with the consequences of his actions - another sophisticated element of Davies' writing. I can't wait to see where this goes next, but I get the distinct feeling something big's just around the corner...

TV: Cucumber iv

Russell T Davies clearly has a very specific vision for this show, and I for one am totally excited about it. Average writers might try to make their stories bigger by building them around cataclysmic external events, but Davies is such a master of his trade that he knows that from a character perspective, the more satisfying option is to explore the things that matter to everyone - namely the first date.

And so this episode concerns itself for the most part, as the first in the series did, with a single night. We follow Henry, Lance, Cleo, Freddie and Dean as they all go on their separate Saturday evenings/Sunday mornings. These are as varied and amusing as you'd expect from a mind as unconventional as Davies'. Even though some of these evenings may seem 'normal' (Freddie, for example, goes for dinner with a girl before taking her home) but it's the personal journeys all our leads go on that makes this so good.

Henry meets with the date arranged for him by Freddie, and it goes very well. Rupert - the date - is very keen to consummate the relationship instantly, but we know from the last couple of episodes that Henry is nowhere near as eager. Instead, he gets him hammered and they go for a takeaway. At a diner, we get one of the most Russell T Davies scenes imaginable, as Henry and Leigh (a friend of Rupert's friend, who happens to show up) discuss the minutiae of their respective relationships in a cafe. An ordinary cafe. Any cafe. They of course end up in Henry's bed, and it's really nice just to see him having fun for once, after all the stress he's usually under. Vincent Franklin is again amazing, and his acting really is all in the eyes. I noticed this first last episode, when he was watching Adam and Tomas, but it's unmissable here.

Lance goes out with a work colleague, but his love for Henry gets the better of him and prevents him from sleeping with them. In a cab home, he phones Daniel, who ends up inviting him over. There's a very brief shot, but it sums up Davies' writing for me. In interviews, he always mentions that life's about the little things that change your future forever. As he notes, he even wrote an entire Doctor Who story about it (Turn Left fact fans). And sure enough, stopped at a t-junction, Lance makes the decision and the cab goes right instead of left. He ends up staying the night at Daniel's, but nothing happens. I like the sly role reversal of the series - while Lance is apparently the one completely up for it to start with, by this point it's Henry who's off having fun with another man. I expect to see more of this before the series is out.

Cleo meets up with an old friend, Brian, for dinner. But as it turns out, they have more than that planned for the night. Even though Brian's engaged, there's clearly history there, but this isn't as simple as cheating. Cleo just wants a man, after all the trauma she's gone through, and he's willing to give it to her once to help her out. She changes her mind though, wanting to wait for the right man who she can be in a proper relationship with. And Freddie learns that there are other people as open-minded as him, and in Anna he's found someone who he might be happy with. After half a series of being portrayed as the ladies' and gentlemen's man, it's nice to see him attempt to settle down a little, no matter how much he's worried about it.

Dean has possibly the strangest storyline in this episode. Apparently kidnapped, he's soon taken to a house out in the country. It turns out his kidnappers are another couple, and making them big burly blokes called Clive and Boris made me hoot. It's lovely to see things turning a corner at the halfway point of the series, but it's equally a tragedy that we're already halfway through. I know Davies has '80s AIDS drama The Boys coming in the future, but after that I'd love a return to the lives of Henry and co.

While this episode sports a great wealth of talent (including Bethany Black, who I know features prominently in this week's Banana), both in front and behind the camera - Murray Gold and Alice Troughton both contribute massively to this - the relationship between Vincent Franklin's acting and Russell's writing is just magic. Each enhances the other, and as such Henry is my favourite TV character for a long time. This really is the perfect series. I can't wait to see where all our characters are taken next.

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: Banana i

The way Banana and Cucumber have been designed to marry up is very clever, surely that's something that's only to be expected from the raft of talent invested in them. Banana - a simultaneous spin-off - focuses for now around Dean, who works for HC Clements with Henry Best, the star of parent show Cucumber.

Whilst I can't say that I enjoyed this episode as much as the first of Russell T Davies' other new series, I still loved it. The theme of chaos overriding everything is present once again, only this time, it's the chaos personality flaws cause rather can create that's under the microscope. Within the first minute, we're already an emotional wreck following Davies' typically bold introductory style, as we see Dean's newly-acquired lover pass away. The writer has a love of comic strips, perhaps explaining why he is so good at saying so much with so little. The introduction is told entirely through images, not a word spoken, but as Dean's boyfriend breathes his last we're already tearing up. What a writer.

Banana is the best kind of spin-off; it complements and expands upon the main article very well, but one really isn't essential for enjoyment of the other. The cavalcade of catastrophes than consume an average day of Dean's life are cleanly presented here, and Davies takes the interesting tact of making them all his own fault too. It's another stunning opening episode launched with an extraordinary team behind it. Fisayo Akinade is a natural leading man, and when he's onscreen it's nigh-on impossible for your eyes to leave him, making some scenes a little awkward. The continual lack of self-confidence and unintentional shame seep through in the writing and Akinade's acting through what's not said, showcasing talent of the highest degree. Dean's out, but where his family's concerned he's far from proud, and would much rather run away than confront it.

The direction of this, courtesy of Lewis Arnold, is punchy and thoughtful when appropriate. His blend of framing and actor fluidity really helps create a polished finished product, and I fully expect Arnold's career to explode as a result of the exposure he's gaining here. Ben Foster is another name carried over from BBC Wales to Red Productions, and I'm glad. Whilst his score isn't quite as distinctive as Murray Gold's for Cucumber, it's still excellent, with some really nice pieces in there. I hope the soundtrack gets a commercial release - there's at least one guaranteed sale.

All in all, this is another excellent accomplishment and pits Banana as a strong forerunner for my second favourite series of the year so far (guess what's first!). Russell T Davies (supported of course by the undercelebrated Julie Gardner and Nicola Shindler) has burst back onto the scene with two astoundingly good new shows, and re-affirmed my faith in him as one of the best screenwriters of all time (and my favourite of anything, since you didn't ask). Others may accuse me of being biased and believing Davies can't put a foot wrong, but going off the back of this and Cucumber's first episodes, surely there's no room for dispute? 

Stunning.

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)