TV: Cucumber viii

Here we go one last time then.

That's much how writer/creator Russell T Davies seems to approach this episode to me. This may well be his last chance to say what he wants to so publically and so truthfully, and I'm sure he knows it. The eighth, and final, episode of Cucumber sees Davies' signature storytelling style used in miniature, as Henry tries to surround himself with friends to help him forget what's missing.

As well as the Collective - the former inhabitants of the Calico flats moving into Henry's house - works, it disbands before too long and we're left once more with just Best, Freddie and Cliff. In Davies' (and Benjamin Cook's) phenomenal The Writer's Tale, there's an illustration of what he would've wanted the Doctor's son to look like, had 2008 Doctor Who episode The Doctor's Daughter been taken down a different path. The picture, and accompanying description, seem to fit Freddie Fox perfectly, and I don't wonder that the character was reimagined for Cucumber.

Con O'Neill is once again excellent as Cliff, and in this role ascends to my third favourite of the series. He's wonderfully witty and wry, and the idea he's anything other than perfect for the role as imagined by Davies should be dispelled. However, there are two frankly fantastic performers who just edge him out. Julie Hesmondhalgh is undoubtedly best known as Hayley on Coronation Street, but from now on it'll be hard not to think of her as Cleo. She's embodied the part that's often been labelled the voice of reason in a series full of mad events and decisions and made it her own. It really is coincidence that the best episodes of the series - the first and sixth - are the two that don't feature her, since she's truly excellent.

This series is made entirely by Vincent Franklin as Henry, though. He is perfectly cast in the role, being able to articulate the every whim of Davies with flair, ease and - most importantly - excellence. This episode is no different, and the final scene shows him off at his best again. Indeed, the sincerity of the final line stays in the mind long after the credits roll. It's an oddly profound note to end on, but in a way that's entirely appropriate of this series. It made me think a lot, and clearly I'm not the only one as - most prominently - Gareth Roberts also tweeted about its truth. I think there can be no argument that in narrative terms Cucumber has been stunning. 

There are many to attribute its success to of course. Davies is naturally the main driving force behind the show, but if I start praising him I'll be here all day. Suffice to say his skill in executing both long and short-term storylines and narrative tricks still remains unparalleled in my eyes. His co-executive producers Julie Gardner and Nicola Shindler need a hearty thanks, and I'm so grateful to Piers Wenger for commissioning this at all. The directors have all been beyond amazing too, and Jake Polonsky has kept things looking beautiful. Beyond the actors mentioned above, James Murray (Daniel), Fisayo Akinade (Dean), Letitia Wright (Scotty) and of course Cyril Nri have all been inspirational. 

Behind the cameras, there's been some highly commendable work that I've barely mentioned. Louise Page is another face familiar from Davies' BBC Wales days, and I must say all her costumes have been right on the money. Dean's yellow hoodie, for example, sums up the character perfectly. Murray Gold has been amazing, and if there was any doubt he had a great ear for basslines (I can still hear Westminster Bridge whenever I want), Cucumber has set them straight. His choral pieces were my favourite, but the whole series has been excellently scored from start to end. And Mark Adcock has done excellent things as a camera op for all eight episodes. Having tried this myself, I know how much of an art it is, and the way Adcock and co. make it look so effortless is truly a skill. 

And a huge thank you to all the electrical, make-up, art and sound departments that have made this so special. This will go down as one of my favourite series, thanks to everyone involved. Andy Pryor's casting can't go unmentioned, for making it such a success. And I'm sure none of it would have happened without Matt Strevens. So thanks all. 

Beyond all that, though, Cucumber's given me a new catchphrase - a Henry-style "oh fuck off!". And really that's what I direct at all the naysayers the series has accumulated, few though they are. Thanks Russell, Vince, it's been fucking amazing. Cucumber's taught me a lot, but really it's underlined one thing I was already fairly certain of. 

Men are mad.

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 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 iii

With every episode of Cucumber, my suspicion that this is the closest we'll get to a complete Russell T Davies autobiography is growing. It often feels that Henry is speaking the writer's true innermost thoughts, but the same could be said about other characters too. 

In ordinary series, episode three would probably be about the point they would start to stagnate. You've had the amazing first episode, the second episode that secures your viewers for the whole series, and you'll have some kind of finale you're building towards. Cucumber, though, doesn't follow ordinary TV conventions - in many ways. Real life doesn't happen in a predictable fashion, and Davies mirrors this with the notion that anything could happen at any time a fixture of this and Banana. 

This episode focuses for the most part around Henry's flatmate and fellow HC Clements employee Freddie Baxter, played with impressive versatility by Freddie Fox. Up to now, we've had Freddie presented to us as a quiet, confident character. In a subversion of expectations typical of Davies, the character is flipped completely on his head when an old teacher comes back into his life. It all starts with a look across a car park, and that single frame, shot so beautifully by David Evans tells an entire story. Before long the pair (the elder of whom is married with two children) are back in each other's arms. 

And that's where the tale twists again. Gregory, the teacher, insists that it's just a one-off. Naturally you expect him to become hooked on Freddie again, as any character of the appropriate persuasion seems to. But Davies is cleverer than that. Even though Freddie undoubtedly gets the most of anyone in this show, he's the one that falls for Gregory. And so begins a relationship that ends in inevitable chaos for the school teacher, with Lance playing a crucial role in the resolution of this episode. Some might say the plots of this episode and last week's Banana are too similar, but I'd disagree even though I do acknowledge there are similarities. 

All this talk of Freddie doesn't mean that Henry's life has been put on hold though. Like real life, certain people's prominence rises and falls in this series. Lance and Gregory are two people who operate in completely different circles, yet come the end of episode three, one's kicking the other in the ribs. That's how Davies cleverly ties his whole series back to Henry. If he and Lance hadn't gone on that fateful date in episode one, these two people probably never would've met. I'm a firm believer that Davies is a master of storytelling, and he tells the most economical of stories, showing us events in miniature before inviting us to apply these across a much greater period and scale. 

It's not just the show's creator who seems to be speaking through these characters though. Henry's nephew Adam is a thinly-veiled reimagination of Benjamin Cook, a journalist who Davies is very familiar with, and the showrunner of accompanying documentary series Tofu. We explore some of the more obscure facets of Davies' personality here, with Adam engaging in the noughties trend of straight boys pretending to be gay whilst miming to pop songs to earn Henry a bit of cash. Whilst we're on the subject, I'm sure Adam being 15 is a reference to it being the same number of years since Queer as Folk, arguably Davies' breakthrough series, and Cucumber's thematic predecessor. 

It's been quite some time since I've heaped praise on Mr Murray Gold for the astounding musical score he affords these series. They're seriously fortunate to have him onboard, as his unique soundtrack (including an array of belts and zips) completes the package. Many are quick to write this off as 'that gay thing', and usually I'd disagree. Cucumber (and Banana) are all about people and relationships. The fact that a lot of those relationships are same-sex doesn't bother me one bit. All that said, this is undoubtedly the gayest episode of the franchise so far, with boys kissing, talking about oral sex, listening to sex and having sex. It's unashamedly, deliberately gay, and I can just imagine Russell at the keyboard, tapping out these scenes, hooting with laughter. And rightly so.

I'd have no issue recommending Cucumber on quality alone, but that recommendation does come with one precautionary piece of advice: don't watch it with your parents.