Kitchen sink spies

 by Ben Soton

The Ipcress File (2002): ITV series. Sundays 6 March to 10 April 6pm on ITV1; full series available on the ITVHub (with ads) and BritBox (ad-free). Written by John Hodge. Directed by James Watkins. Stars: Joe Cole, Lucy Boynton and Tom Hollander.

Harry Palmer, the creation of Cold War espionage fiction writer Len Deighton, was an alternative to James Bond. Back in the 1960s Deighton’s novels exist as a half-way house between the pure action adventure of Bond and the rather dry psychological thrillers of John Le Carré.

    Unlike Bond, the smartly dressed, cocktail-drinking sociopath dedicated to Queen and Country, Palmer is cut from a different cloth. A working-class Londoner with a Maths degree, he reaches the rank of corporal in the British Army whereas Bond was a Commander in the Royal Navy. Instead of being a hired gun for his superiors Palmer takes to smuggling, which finds him in Colchester Military Prison.The first Palmer novel, The Ipcress File, is the subject of ITV1’s latest Sunday night drama.
    To have his sentence commuted, Palmer (played by Joe Cole) is approached by Major Dalby (played by Tom Hollander) with a view to helping British intelligence rescue a kidnapped nuclear scientist. As the story progresses Palmer’s life unravels. He had previously served in the Korean war, only to come home to find his wife had suffered a miscarriage and his marriage subsequently collapses.
    Palmer is not an obvious servant of British imperialism. His social background, with an understandable grievance, make him a security risk. In a scene featuring a conversation with Colonel Stock of the KGB he even displays a knowledge of Marxism Leninism.
    The television adaptation presents a nostalgic view of the 1960s. Most scenes show a somewhat exaggerated cleanliness along with immaculate clothing and perfectly styled hair. This, however, was an era when classical economics, normally referred to as neo-liberalism, had been suspended for the less socially vicious Keynesianism, which focused on welfare and full employment.
    The era also saw a strong labour movement and internationally the presence of the Soviet Union meant a shift in the balance of forces in favour of the working class. Increased social mobility was an additional feature of the decade, shown when fellow intelligence officer Jean Courtney (played by Lucy Boynton) develops a shine to Palmer whilst becoming bored with her upper-class fiancé.
    There are occasions when one wonders if Palmer will switch sides, which adds added suspense to the plot. But at the end of the day the story, and Palmer’s character in particular, is essentially about co-opting working class support for the Cold War against the Soviet Union. Palmer is given smart clothes, a car and access to a world he would probably never see in exchange for taking part in a war ultimately against his own class.

A not so gripping tale

by Ben Soton

 Singapore Grip Six-part ITV series based on the novel by JG Farrell. Stars: David Morrissey, Colm Meaney, Luke Treadaway, Elizabeth Tan and others. On ITV from Sunday 13th September at 9pm, also available on the ITV Hub.

As every TV reviewer now tells us, the ‘Singapore grip’ is a slang term used to describe the sexual act in which a man remains stationary during intercourse whilst a woman clenches her vaginal muscles to pleasure the penis. In all likelihood the man would be of wealthy European decent whilst the woman would be a native of East-Asian origin.
    The Singapore Grip is also ITV1’s latest Sunday Night drama, which takes us back to 1942, just before the Japanese invasion of Singapore, based on the 1978 Booker Prize-winning satirical novel by J G Farrell. The drama centres on the colonial elite who controlled Singapore’s rubber industry.
    In episode one Mr Webb (played by Charles Dance), a somewhat liberal rubber plantation owner, dies. His fortune goes to his son Matthew (played by Luke Treadaway), whom some suspect may be to the left of his father. The plantation manager, Walter Blackett (played by David Morrissey), has ambitions of his own when he encourages his daughter to marry Matthew.
    This, along with the impending Japanese invasion and Mathew taking an interest in the conditions of native workers, sets the scene for the series.
    The idea behind satire is that it makes fun of the truth and the drama does so in ridiculing the last days of the formal British empire in the far east.
    The British authorities in Singapore certainly had their priorities right. At a time when Britain was allied to the Soviet Union and the Japanese Empire was poised to march through Malaya, they were still trying to deport communists back to Japanese-controlled China.
    The suspected communist is Vera Chiang (played by Elizabeth Tan), who is saved from deportation by Mr Webb. Interestingly, the colonial official who wants Ms Chiang deported believes that she is more likely to have communist sympathies because she has a high level of education. This is not to say that communists are more intelligent than reactionaries but it also exposes the fear-based mind-set of late colonial officialdom.
    We also see army officers unable to make decisions, which is seen as an important quality in wartime. Meanwhile an Air vice-marshal believes that Japanese militarism can be explained by that country’s high consumption of fish.
    The series uses panoramic camera angles, or more than likely CGI, to show the daily bustle of the city state. This includes British soldiers patrolling Singapore’s poorer areas and shots of the island’s wildlife.
    With a second lockdown increasingly likely, television studios will inevitably close. My advice is to enjoy as much television drama whilst you can.

Belgravia: a Victorian fantasy

by Ben Soton

Belgravia: ITV drama series by Julian Fellowes. Stars: Tamsin Greig, Philip Glenister, Harriet Walter.

Starting on the eve of the Battle of Waterloo in 1815, the drama then jumps 26 years to 1841 without the characters having aged more than a day. The series centres around the Trenchards; James Trenchard (played by Philip Glenister), is a merchant and supplier of food to the British army. We should be reminded of Napoleon’s remark about an army marching on its stomach.

The 1840s, the first full decade of Queen Victoria’s reign, was a time when a number of modern bourgeois sensibilities came about. The period saw the development of construction firms employing a variety of tradesmen; previously customers would hire numerous tradesmen on different contracts.

James Trenchard is associated with this new business model. Anne Trenchard (played by Tamsin Grieg) attends an event where the latest fad, ‘Afternoon Tea’, is being held. We are reminded that an advantage of this practice is that you can circulate and can leave whenever you please; not always possible in the case of a formal meal.

It is at an Afternoon Tea that Anne meets Caroline Countess of Brockenhurst (played by Harriet Walter), as someone on intimate terms with the elite of Hampshire society. The Countess’s son, who was engaged to the Trenchards’ daughter, died at Waterloo. Both the Trenchards’ daughter and the Countess’s son are now dead, but it soon materialises that the family has a secret.

The Trenchards live in Belgravia – a part of London’s West End that was developed as a residential area for the wealthy by the Duke of Westminster during the Victorian era. Brockenhurst, however, is just a village in the New Forest, about 15 miles from Southampton, and there has never been a Countess of it.

This historical drama is the product of Julian Fellowes, the creator of Downton Abbey, ITV’s epic period drama known for showing the ruling class through very rose-tinted spectacles. Fellowes’ depiction of the nouveau riche Trenchards mixing with the likes of Countess Caroline is probably his idea of class-struggle.

In the case of Downton Abbey, whilst depicting the ruling class as quaint or wonderful philanthropists there were some references to the events of the time. These included the First World War, the liberation struggle in Ireland and the death of the Russian royal family. As the 1920s progressed, however, political events seemed to become less frequent.

This drama begins in the 1840s, an era that saw included rapid industrialisation, Chartism at home, famine and unrest in Ireland, and the 1848 Revolutions that swept across Europe. All we get in episode two are brief reference to contemporary Prime Ministers Robert Peel and Viscount Melbourne.

Fellowes, a Tory peer who sits in the House of Lords as Baron Fellowes of West Stafford, sees history from the perspective of the rich with occasional reference to their servants. Events such as those mentioned above are largely incidental and receive only an occasional mention. 

Two of a kind?

by Ben Soton

McDonald and Dodds; ITV. Sundays 8–10pm, commencing 1^st March 2020. Creator: Robert Murphy. Stars: Jason Watkins, Pearl Chanda, Tala Gouveia.

At face value a typical Sunday night detective drama to finish off the weekend however, it touches on the issues of class and race that may interest readers.

Set in the quaint historic, and in my opinion over-rated, city of Bath; the drama revolves around two seemingly mismatched detectives whose differences complement each other.

DS Dodds, played by Jason Watkins, is a 50-something slightly anorakish figure, with a poor understanding of modern technology, moved to operational policing by his superiors in the hope he will take early retirement. DI McDonald, played by Tala Gouveia, is a more dynamic and ambitious figure on secondment from the Met. Where Dodds takes a softly softly approach and in the initial episode solves a crime through methodical research, McDonald is a police officer in a hurry, keen on promotion and making a name for herself.

In episode one a multimillionaire villain, played by Robert Linsay, tries to persuade Dodds that they are two of a kind; after all, they are both middle-aged men who should stick together against those different from them. There is a racial element because McDonald is mixed race. When I watched this scene my initial thought was, that these two men have nothing in common. How can a man like Dodds, who probably lives in a semi-detected house and drives a Ford Focus, have anything in common with a man who lives in a mansion and spends thousands of pounds on a suit?

The myth that white men, particularly those of a certain age, are under threat is a myth put forward by the far-right. It is the ethos behind reactionary movements such as the Football Lads Alliance, which was praised by the by the Spectator magazine. The editor of the Spectator is often seen on the terraces of his local football ground. This ridiculous myth is mirrored by an extreme section of the fake-left who automatically view white males as the enemy. To these malcontents the worst possible thing to be is white, male, middle-aged, pro-Brexit and of course a Stalinist, whereas supporting the European Union (EU), Israel and imperialism in general aren’t a problem. In the real world however, the most powerful individuals in the world are middle-aged men, in most cases of a certain class – the rich.  What both groups of charlatans ignore is class.

McDonald meanwhile, mentions attending a course in London run by the security services where she discusses tactics used to undermine your enemy: disinformation, fake news and confusion. We might ask ourselves about the role played by the far-right and fake-left in undermining real opposition.     

Back to the television series, Dodds is very much the hero. He does not allow his poor dress sense stop him from picking out crucial leads that result in crimes being solved. The politically astute McDonald is able to use his skills to her own advantage, at the same time protecting Dodds from superiors who want to pension him off. Together they make the perfect duo.

Differing views of the Swinging ‘60s

By Our TV Correspondent

On Sunday evenings, now that McMafia has finished, we have a choice between two TV dramas, both set in the 1960s: Endeavour and Call the Midwife. These two dramas give somewhat differing views of what is often referred to as the Swinging Sixties.    

The long-running Call the Midwife series is set in the East End of London. This period drama shows the development of the Welfare State, which was built on pre-existing religious and charitable institutions – in this case ‘Nonnatus House’, an Anglican religious order. This and listening to Vanessa Redgrave prattling on at the end gives the series a religious and slightly sentimental overtone.

Set in an area of high immigration the drama raises the issue of race. In the latest episodes a new mid-wife arrives from the Caribbean. It also covers working conditions in the local docks. Grim though it was, it should be pointed out that the 1947 National Dock Labour Board, achieved as a result of communist-led industrial action, did see an improvement in working conditions.

The series does have a progressive side; in one episode a young woman who has escaped from the ‘horrors’ of communism in Hungary only to be physically abused in France, asks a doctor if she can arrange for an abortion. She is told that she is not in a communist country and such procedures are illegal in Britain.

 Last week’s episode, set in 1963, features some of the characters glued to a television screen watching the Soviet cosmonaut Valentina Tereshkova being filmed from her space craft. This was a time when the Soviet Union was overtaking the capitalist countries in many areas.

On the other hand Endeavour, which began in 2013 and is now into its fifth series, is a crime drama set in Oxford in the late 1960s. The drama gives an element of glamour to the city dominated by the university and the car plant; two separate worlds often referred to as town and gown. It emphasises a different side of the decade – the hairstyles, new fashions and most of all crime.

It is a prequel to Colin Dexter’s Morse, which ran for 33 episodes between 1987–2000. In the original series Morse, played by the late John Thaw, was a middle-aged melancholic, with a passion for cryptic crosswords and classical music who enjoyed a pint of real ale. In Endeavour, the lead role played by Sean Evans (Ashes to Ashes) takes us back to Oxford in the late 1960s.

 Evans plays a younger adaptation of Morse; a somewhat detached and serious individual very much wedded to the job. This does not, however, stop him from having a one-night stand with a woman he meets outside a phone box. For those not familiar with Dexter’s books or the TV adaptations, Endeavour was Inspector Morse’s first name, which he seldom used. The series has the potential to go on for another 20 years, taking us through the 1970s and into the 1980s.

A problem associated with the production of TV dramas set in the not so distant past is that although it is possible to film on location, modern cars have to be hidden out of the way, satellite dishes taken down and even double glazing, not introduced until the 1980s, has to be painted over to give the appearance of wood.

Both Call the Midwife and Endeavour are mostly shot in pre-fabricated film sets. These have their limitations, more so in the case of crime drama, making it difficult to show the outdoor chase scenes associated with Life on Mars and Ashes to Ashes. On the other hand, it makes Endeavour a slightly slower paced and possibly more thought-provoking drama, without the one liners of and exaggerated violence of Life on Mars.

On a global level the 1960s were a period of progress; they saw the consolidation of the socialist camp as well as decolonisation and the advance of national liberation movements despite the problems related to the Sino-Soviet split.

In Britain it was a period of limited social mobility that has been reversed in recent years, mainly a result of neo-liberalism and the destruction of the welfare state. Today social mobility is the subject of various parliamentary commissions and select committees; but in the 1960s it took place mainly as a result of the gains in social welfare and the strength of the left after the Second World War. Increased opportunities for working-class people in the west saw expression in the radicalised student movements at the end of the decade. They reached their peak in various protests against the Vietnam War and solidarity with industrial struggles.

The decade also saw an end to book and theatre censorship, previously the responsibility of the Lord Chamberlain’s Office. A famous case was the lifting of the ban on DH Lawrence’s Lady Chatterley’s Lover in 1960. Finally, the 1960s saw the decriminalisation of abortion and homosexuality in 1967.

For most of the population these improvements were gradual and the notion of the Swinging Sixties only really existed for a privileged few. We were told we “had never had it so good” – but poverty still existed and on a positive note this was reflected in the production of films such as Cathy Come Home, which gave a sympathetic view of the victims of poverty. This is in stark contrast to some of the poverty-porn docu-dramas of today, where apparently those in poverty are better off than those in work. Again, an attempt to undermine the Welfare State.

On a personal level I have no recollection of the decade, which was after all the era of my parents and grandparents. I remember my father telling me that in the late 1960s Lord Montague, owner of the National Motor Museum, allowed his estate to be used for a Hippie Festival. My parents and a number of other less well-heeled locals watched these exotic creatures through the fence.

 He also told me that he did not join a trade union until around 1967. This was by no means atypical, union membership was actually lower in Britain in the 1950s than many comparable capitalist countries and did not take off until the late 1960s.

Although I have a personal preference for crime drama, giving the limitations of modern television both series are probably worth watching.