2018 Golden
Weevil Awards
Believe it
or not, I started this at the very beginning of January. It’s a testament to how busy I’ve been that I
only seem to be able to get it out five months into 2019! Oh well; better late than never, I guess.
See the caveat
from previous years:
I will not
apologize for these being completely subjective selections, and I reserve the
right to present “cumulative” awards much in the way Oscars are sometimes
awarded for a body of work rather than for a specific nominated performance
(despite the rules to the contrary).
Also, given the nature of the way I listen, to call these categories “of
the Year” would be deceptive as many of the Radio 4 Extra performances are from
as long ago as four decades in the past.
With these caveats out of the way, we’ll proceed—and in no particular
order.
Outstanding Performers
James Purefoy
In 2018, James Purefoy amazed me very much by the
versatility of the roles he’d played, not only that year, but throughout the
Radio 4 Extra repertoire. For example,
in The RemCo by Jonathan Maitland,
he played a charming villain in a perfect contemporary story for our
times. Michael Melman, a business
impresario who is driving profits skyward for a PR firm, is the subject of a
RemCo (remuneration committee). However,
he wants an extra £8 million as a retainer on top of his salary, bonus, and
stock options. Melman charms his way
through the RemCo committee, seducing, bribing, and threatening anyone who
stands in his way; the only person who seems to be immune is Judith (played by
the also extraordinary Deborah Findlay).
You’d be mistaken for thinking Purefoy can only play charismatic
villains, but you would be right in thinking he is at his best playing
characters who are morally ambiguous.
Take, for instance, his astonishing turn as rugby player Arthur Machin
in the radio dramatization of This
Sporting Life, from 2013. He heads a
starry cast that also includes Sheridan Smith and Emily Watson, playing a
troubled and troubling young man trying to escape class-bound postwar
Britain. Almost unrecognizable, Purefoy
was totally convincing as the intense and difficult Machin. The adaptation was directed by Johnny Vegas
and Sally Harrison. It’s therefore very
heartening to find Purefoy playing a hero, albeit a hero filled with quite a
bit of self-loathing, the titular Scarlet
Pimpernel (from the very end of 2017) in Jonathan Holloway and Sally
Harrison’s terrific adaptation. I
started reading The Scarlet Pimpernel novels
some two decades ago, and this adaptation was both accurate to the spirit as
well as having quite a bit of edgy bite to it.
Purefoy is excellent as the foppish Percy Blakeney (achieved through a
larger-than-life loutish accent) and the Scarlet Pimpernel, a serious
do-gooder. I wouldn’t say no to more
adaptations of the Pimpernel stories.
Kathleen Turner
Kathleen Turner was on 2016’s list as well, but I felt her
performance in Sara Paretsky’s Killing
Orders could not be overlooked (even though the dramatization was
originally broadcast in 1991). The early
‘90s mysteries about VI Warshawski are just the epitome of cool. In a complex and gripping story, the
performances were great, from the late Maurice Denham to Martin Shaw. However, Kathleen Turner carried the weight
of the titular sleuth and did so with great ease and panache. The deeper VI
delves into the dealings of the Catholic Church in Chicago, however, the more
trouble she gets in. As ever, Warshawski
is brave, funny, and classy, and Kathleen Turner just excels at playing her. Wouldn’t it be amazing to revisit VI thirty
years later, with feminist icon Turner to play her one more time?
Tom Wilkinson
Tom Wilkinson hasn’t done any radio drama lately. However, Radio 4 Extra seemed to be
celebrating his 70th birthday last year by replaying some of his
greatest hits (by the way, if you’ve ever wondered when watching his many films
why his American accents are so good, it’s because he was born in Leeds but
lived in Canada). In 1984, he played
notorious sleuth Sam Spade in the radio adaptation of The Maltese Falcon. It’s a
production that was so hard-boiled, it would have been an egg salad sandwich if
you had boiled it any longer. That same
year, he played a very different role in Martyn Wade’s stunning biopic of
Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Young Coleridge. Young
Coleridge is an attempt to get inside Coleridge’s head for a day, from when
he wakes up the whole household in his house in Keswick with his opium-induced
nightmares to when he needs opium that evening to help him sleep. Coleridge is a complex, not entirely
self-aware man, and his relationship with his wife Sara is fraught. Care is taken in this story to help the
listener understand that Coleridge puts impossible demands upon his wife and
holds her to different standards than he does himself; at the same time, you do
feel sorry for him, as he’d like to divorce her and marry his soulmate Asra
(another Sara). Wilkinson was utterly
convincing in this difficult role. I had
very mixed feelings about Wasted Years,
a detective series by John Harvey from 1995.
DI Charlie Resnick is a jazz-loving Nottingham-based investigator in Wasted Years. Instead of being the
larger-than-life protagonist as in the two previous dramas, Wilkinson was much
more part of ensemble. This was
interesting, as this is the role he most frequently has on film, and it is such
that he always elevates the material and the character. That said, his performance was much more
understated here (understandably so).
Nigel Anthony
I really wish in 2011, when I got to sit in on the
read-throughs of Radio 4’s Life and Fate,
I had known of Nigel Anthony’s oeuvre what I know now. I would have certainly shaken his hand, as he
is clearly one of the best radio drama actors that has ever been. Wonderfully versatile, capable of being
utterly creepy or disarmingly sympathetic, and the roles he has played over the
years attest to this great range. It
seems—although I have no way of confirming this at the moment—that Anthony’s
career in BBC radio began in the 1970s.
I’ve already raved about his delightfully complex performance in Victor
Pemberton’s Dark (1978), and it
seems such roles were characteristic for him.
In 1977, he played Adam Oxton in JCW Brook’s The Doppleganger. Otherwise
ordinary Adam Oxton has had a fraught relationship with his wife Jane for as
long as they can remember. Bizarre events are coming together that will turn
the Oxtons’ plane of experience from ordinary to totally uncanny. A go-for-broke sci fi/horror story, the
wonderful intrigue and weirdness were heightened by a spooky score by Paddy
Kingsland, high production values, and of course the performances. Totally different, however, is Anthony’s
performance in last year’s Moonraker,
an adaptation by Archie Scotney of the classic Ian Fleming novel. Usually Bond leaves me very cold, but I was
impressed by this adaptation. Toby
Stephens was very charming as the titular spy and Samuel West no less
accomplished as the baddie. Anthony,
however, was unrecognizable as crazed German caricature/henchman, Krebs. A stylish thriller directed by Martin
Jarvis. However, Anthony outdid himself
in Jo Anderson’s The Understudy, probably
his most consummate performance since Dark. He was absolute stunning as John Stanger, a
middle-aged actor edging into old age who is convinced against his better
judgement by his agent to take a role as an understudy to a large part which is
being filled by an actor who has mainly done TV since his student theatre
days. At the same time, he’s been
working on a one-man show for some time (and any self-respecting ghost
historian will recognize its subject as doomed Victorian actor William
Terris). As if all this wasn’t
complicated enough, Stanger starts getting followed at night by strange figures
and gets strange messages on the answerphone, all seeming to point to the fact
that the events that conspired to end Terris’ life are coming after him,
too. It’s a wonderfully eerie
production. I hope we hear many more
things from Nigel Anthony.
David Threlfall
Somewhat unusually, I only know David Threlfall as Killick
in Peter Weir’s Master and
Commander: The Far Side of the World (2003),
despite his long film career (and widespread recognition for Shameless). I was thus surprised and
impressed with his performance as Spike Milligan in Ian Billings’ Spike and the Elfin Oak. April 2018 marked Spike Milligan’s
centenary. Threlfall was an inspired
choice as he played Milligan absolutely to a tee. This must surely be a BBC Audio Drama
Award-worthy performance. And, once
again, it’s a story that’s super-radiogenic.
How else could people be made to believe a story in which Spike Milligan
talks to elves and fairies at the base of an oak in Kensington Gardens and then
campaigns for their restoration, for it all to be destroyed by a pair of
drunks? Plus, if you want a hint of the
youthful Threlfall in another comic role, last year you could also check him
out in Bill Tidy and John Junkin’s The
Fosdyke Saga from 1983. A bald-faced
parody of The Forsyte Saga, except
set in Salford (!), this epic comedy also starred a young Miriam
Margoyles. Thirteen episodes long, it
follows the story of the penniless Fosdykes who come to own a tripe factory
monopoly until the First World War sends one son, Albert, to the front as a
flying ace, while the other, Tom (Threlfall), becomes a POW.
Eve Myles
While I got to hear Eve Myles reprising her role as Gwen in
a series of Torchwood dramas from
2011, I was most impressed by her performance in 19 Weeks by Emily Steele. I wept
as I listened to this drama, something I didn’t in the least expect to
happen. I’ve always supported a woman’s
right to choose and have been scornful of the way media (almost always) shows
women who have abortions regretting them, or being pulled back from them at the
last moment. Emily Steele, in this very
intimate and rather warts-and-all drama (which is highly radiogenic) is a
journalist in her thirties with one son already, Frank. Her pregnancy with her second child is
murderous, with her being incredibly sick all the time. Chris, her husband, a silent character whose
dialogue is reported via Emily (an interesting device) is caring, always trying
to help Emily during her pregnancy.
Living in Australia, they do lots of tests, some of which they have to
pay for, as they eventually find out that the child is likely going to have
developmental problems, just like Emily’s uncle. Emily is determined not to end up like her
grandmother, who suffered, bringing up a developmentally disabled child. It’s late (19 weeks) when the tests point in
all likelihood to this possibility, and Emily describes the painful and long
process of the termination, maturely, with vulnerability, and a great deal of
honesty. I was crying not because Emily
decided to have the abortion, but I was just sad about the whole story, the
pain and suffering so many of the characters went through. Eve Myles did an excellent job. I hope she gets the opportunity to do more
radio drama.
Imelda Staunton
Even though Julie
Enfield Investigates- Murder West One was made almost twenty years ago,
that doesn’t mean I can’t praise the performance from Imelda Staunton as the
titular detective. There are at least three series of these crime dramas by
Nick Fisher, and each focuses on a different London locale. While the first episode, “A Cure for Death” starts out relatively
light-hearted, all of these stories have a hard edge (after all, they usually
revolved around murder). I don’t know for
what narrative reason we needed the first five minutes of “A Cure For Death” taken up by Julie having to sing karaoke at a
party (other than a quip at the very end); on the other hand, it was no
hardship at all to hear Imelda Staunton belt out “I Will Survive.” “The
Art of the Matter” was probably my favorite in the series, including within
it an amusing subplot featuring Julie’s elderly dad (played by Geoffrey
Matthews), and putting Julie, as ever, in extreme peril when caught up in the
machinations of “the perfect crime” in a swanky modern art gallery. Although “Five Star Killing” was slightly less interesting or clever than
others in the series, nevertheless, there was something touching about Julie
Enfield feeling quite flattered by the attentions of serial (yet sincere and
very Gallic) womanizer Jean-Pierre Renaud and seeming quite disappointed when he
turned out to be implicated in the crime (unlike other female detectives on
radio, Julie has never had a romantic relationship, at least as far as I
know). In this story, an exclusive
hotel, the residence of a French diplomat, is implicated when a dead body is
found in the street outside. “Soho Espresso” was intricate but also
rather wry and high-spirited. I have to
say, Inspector Javert singing the reprise to “Stars” is the very last thing I’d
ever hear at the opening of this final episode in the Julie Enfield
series. Yet, that’s what was happening
as Julie, an overenthusiastic Dad, and DS Lawrence Matthews catch Les Mis in Soho. As is much more frequently the case with
Radio 4 women detectives than men, Julie Enfield has to balance her career with
caring responsibilities, and Imelda Staunton is perfectly suited to portraying
the brilliant detective as well as the exasperated daughter. Staunton’s best radio performance will
probably always be, for me, that of the terrified mother in JCW Brook’s The Snowman Killing, so it’s nice to
hear her do a little comedy in the midst of all that seriousness.
Outstanding Directors
Charlotte Riches
Charlotte Riches is Salford-based and a great director. Here I highlight four very different dramas
she directed, from 2017 and 2018 and two heard on Radio 4 Extra in 2018. Take
Me to Redcar by Sarah McDonald Hughes from 2013 was part of the “Take Me to
. . .” series which highlighted distinctive British towns. (Indeed, I had never even heard of Redcar
before I heard this drama—it’s in North Yorkshire, by the way.) It was a
powerful, well-written, and beautifully recorded drama and gave a great sense
of place. Fiona (Therese Meade) is
taking her boyfriend Danny (John Cattral) to her hometown of Redcar to meet her
parents. Danny is very cool and cynical,
about to drop out of university due to problems at home. When Fiona and Danny arrive in Redcar, they
are astonished to find it deserted, all the shops boarded up. Where is everyone? This was sensitively and boldly written; a
great drama for radio. Earlier, in 2011,
the imitable Don Webb adapted Alan Garner’s young adult fantasy novel Elidor for radio, which Riches
directed. While I found the adaptation
itself less than completely successful, it had spectacular music by Ian
Williams and great performances from its child stars. More recently, Riches directed the charming
and amusing comedy Sophie’s Lights. Sophie (Ophelia Luffibunde), a Jewish
girl who goes to a mixed school but attends special Jewish school on the
weekend, annoys her teacher by believing in Santa Claus. Sophie’s father, Alan (William Ashe),
convinces Sophie that Santa doesn’t exist, gets thrown out by his wife, and
ends up at Midnight Mass and gets helpful advice from the officiating
priest. Adam Usden’s playful drama
doesn’t discount the existence of Santa after all. The year 2018 was excellent for spooky dramas
around Halloween, and as such Riches directed an excellent dramatization by
Toby Hadoke of Nigel Kneale’s TV script from 1963, The Road. Set in the 1760s,
its power is in the opposing temperaments of its characters, Gideon Cobb (Mark
Gatiss) and Sir Hassall (Adrian Scarborough).
Hassall tries to use scientific methods like electricity to detect ghosts;
Cobb scoffs at him. Perhaps the most
interesting character is Jethro, Cobb’s black servant, very well-portrayed by
Colin McFarlane. Naturally, there’s a
twist to this seemingly circumscribed period drama, which left a real sense of
unease even after the drama was finished.
James Robinson
James Robinson is based in Cardiff and has been directing
excellent dramas for a good five years or so.
Like Charlotte Riches, he directed one of the “Take Me to . . .” series,
this time Take Me to Hafod Owen by
Meic Povey in 2013. It’s to his credit that
I didn’t recognize Richard Elfyn in the lead role as Ellis, a middle-aged man
returning under a cloud to his childhood house in Hafod Owen, in Welsh-speaking
mountainous mid-Wales. His home now a pub, predictably run by an insensitive
Englishwoman. In Hafod Owen, Ellis meets
his old flame Gwyneth (Christine Bottomley) and old frenemy Davie (Iwan Hugh
Dafyd). Ellis is deeply embroiled in
problems from his past, for example his unresolved relationship with Gwyneth,
and the fact that Davie’s father sacked Ellis’ father which caused them to move
away. This is a nicely produced play
with excellent music and some memorable scenes, including Ellis and Davie
scrabbling around in a cave in the mountains in a thunderstorm. Take
Me to Hafod Owen used the unforgiving landscape to dredge up hard human
truths, which was also the case for the epic, mysterious, and compelling Aonach Hourn by James Payne, from
2014. This was an amazing and really
quite memorable 15 Minute Drama hinging in part on the performance of Mark
Bonnar as Cormick. In isolated Scotland
one night in December, an avalanche from Aonach Hourn descends on the town of
Rosscoile, killing dozens of school children.
Eight years later, pairs of husbands and wives (bereaved parents) are
dealing with the tragedy in their own ways.
After his wife’s suicide, Cormick goes missing. On the mountain, he finds a girl in a coma,
who appears to be his lost daughter, Flora.
As the drama goes on, it’s difficult to know what is reality and what is
fantasy. Finally, it isn’t easy to
impress an American with adaptations of American works, but Adrian Bean’s 2014
adaptation of Alan Le May’s classic Western The Searchers went above and beyond. I always thought that pre-1970s Westerns were
black-and-white morality tales with cringeworthy depictions of Native
Americans. Not so with this incredibly
authentic, nuanced, tragic drama. I was
blown away by the performances; while most of the time, BBC radio drama
delivers good (if not excellent) American dialect performances, these were a
cut above. Some of the usual suspects
were there—great to hear the phenomenal William Hope as Amos Edwards as well as
Kerry Shayle as Aaron Matheson—but very impressed to hear Alun Raglan and a
string of actors I’d never heard of really deliver flawless Western American
accents. Here, James Robinson has
directed very exciting, and overall, top-notch radio drama.
Kirsty Williams
Kirsty Williams is based in Scotland (I’m noticing a theme
here; each region has a consummate drama director in-house). All three of these dramas were from
2018. I loved Virtually Me by Ali Taylor, starring Gabriel Quigley as the
nameless narrator, “Me.” “Me” is a
single mom trying to deal with work and her two twin children and sullen
teenager Angus. Having her nightly glass
of wine, she posts an ad for someone to invent her second self. Christopher Walken—not his real name—comes to
the rescue, having developed an AI prototype, Me 2, who is connected to Me’s
brain and memories. Naturally, Me 2 is
better than Me at everything, and unleashing her on childcare and work is a bad
idea. When she starts an affair with the
divorced father of Me’s children, Me puts her foot down. An outrageous dark comedy cemented by
Quigley’s performance. Providing by James Anthony Pearson is
much more serious in tone. A simple
radio drama, mainly consisting of the dialogue between two men, Michael (Ryan
Fletcher) and Damien (Sandy Grierson), partners who wanted to adopt a child. Despite this, I found it extremely
powerful. Michael is the main
breadwinner; Damien has a catering business that is struggling to get off the
ground. Michael is keen to adopt; Damien
isn’t sure he’s going to be a good dad, or even if he wants to be a dad at all. If I had one criticism of this drama, it’s
that it ended too soon: we don’t
actually get to see Michael and Damien being dads. Now, I had a love-hate relationship with
Oliver Emanuel’s The Truth About Hawaii,
a 10-part story for the 15 Minute Drama. It felt a bit contrived from time to time, and
I really wasn’t convinced the generally upbeat tone was always warranted,
considering how serious and depressing a story it actually was. Naturally, I didn’t think Sarah—the little
Scottish girl in the near future who scraped her knee, got an infection, and
was faced with first amputation and then death because antibiotics no longer
work—would actually die, but the whole story was grim. I liked some of the segues into which the
story went—Sarah’s mother trying to get antibiotics off a chav who could navigate
the Deep Web and the UN Secretary and her hapless PA—but it sometimes felt
meandering. I liked the metaphor of
Sarah visiting Hawaii while she was in a coma, and the cameos by all sorts of
public figures—like Elvis, Alexander Fleming, and others—very radiogenic. It wasn’t until episode 8, which was
basically a monologue from Sarah’s mother, that I finally felt that The Truth About Hawaii had actually
found its footing. Still, it was
interesting and ambitious.
Eoin O’Callaghan
I selected Eoin O’Callaghan two years ago (again, tour of
the regions since he sometimes works in Northern Ireland). He’s one of my all-time favorite radio drama
directors. I always know I will hear a
quality drama when he is directing it.
This year, he directed two Mark Lawson-written vehicles (they frequently
work together) which were, true to journalist Lawson’s style, topical and
provocative. The first was The Deletion Committee which featured
quite a starry cast. An unnamed waxworks, a thinly disguised
Madame Tussaud’s, is having a board meeting in which it will be decided which
figures are deleted and melted down.
What is the criteria for deletion?
Well, if some #MeToo allegations have been made against the figure in
question, down to Germaine Greer for saying insensitive things about trans
people. The new member, young, black,
and female Gemma (Ferruche Offia), is all for a policy of no tolerance; board
member Abigail (Samantha Bond), a trendy older journalist, is mostly in
agreement with Gemma but occasionally and secretly would like to agree with her
colleague, lawyer Sam (Bill Paterson), who makes every deletion a debate. Sam is no dinosaur, but he brings up
thoughtful and relevant questions about guilty until proven innocent, whether
Twitter is the correct arena for assigning guilt. Gemma also brings up good points regarding
the complicity of society in allowing destructive behavior over the
centuries. What are the answers? It’s hard to tell. The
Unseen Government was likewise pure Lawson:
up-to-the-minute political/journalistic drama from an insider,
well-written and well-acted. It
occasionally erred too much on the side of didacticism, but I didn’t really
care, as I am shamefully uninformed about the current political situation in
Northern Ireland. In it, Ali (Amaka Okafor),
a Westminster civil servant, is invited to Belfast to observe a role-playing
exercise at Queen’s University. It is
facilitated by Jean-Christian, a Belgian (such a joy to hear Anton Lesser’s
dulcet tones) whose expertise in diplomacy is there to help re-establish a
working government, as months have gone by since there has been one. Maire (Michelle Fairley), Ash (Jonathan Harden),
and Paul (Lloyd Hutchinson) all seem to be participants in the exercise, but
what Ali slowly comes to realize is that this game has real-world
consequences.
Pauline Harris
For Pauline
Harris, I have two dramas, one from 2018 and one from 2017. Her adaptation of Lord Byron’s Manfred was quite impressive, starring
Joseph Millson as the titular Byronic hero, who spends the bulk of the story in
a state of depression, unable to die yet unwilling to live. He lives in isolation in the Alps, trying to
force various spirits (including the Witch of the Alps), to bring back to life
the only human he ever loved, Astarte.
All around, an excellent combination of song, poetry, drama, and
music. Becky Prestwich’s Chopping Onions is about as different form Manfred as is possible. It was about three generations of Jewish
women. Esther (Christine Cox) was the
family matriarch, but after she has a stroke, her daughter Ruth (Maureen
Lipman) moves her in. Ruth’s daughter
Vanessa (Sarah Smart) is also there with her baby Daniel. Due to the stroke, Esther finds it difficult
to make herself understood. Ruth is trying to make chicken soup but her mother
is unable to keep out of the kitchen.
She tries to prepare Esther for the fact that Vanessa (who married a
non-Jew) wants Daniel to be christened. Certainly several generation gaps make
communication difficult between all three women. A very moving drama.
Mary Peate
Mary Peate is a familiar name at the helm of BBC Radio 4
dramas. In 2018, her credits included In Vino Veritas by Lenny Henry. In this story, Henry plays the Rev Marcus
Campbell, a Midlands minister (who isn’t above playing up a Jamaican accent in
the pulpit, while his long-suffering wife, June, is Jamaican). Marcus was an alcoholic but was recovered by
June. Marcus and Deacon Edwards (Peter Bankolé)
are aiming to put their church on the map, raising money to incorporate a café,
a market, and a shop. The drama has an at best ambivalent relationship with
modern Christian churches as opposed to the original Christian message; a
homeless man berates the congregation for mistreating him, given that Jesus
always had time for the indigent and wretched.
In the midst of preparing for the Sunday service to be recorded and
televised on American TV, Marcus accidentally hits a pedestrian. Although he calls an ambulance, he flees the
scene. At home, the demon drink is
calling. Someone else is calling: Jesus (John Bradley) (like many inner voices,
it’s never clear if this is actually Jesus or not). Jesus encourages Marcus to get drunk in order
to expose the true messages of Christianity.
A darkly comic drama that speaks to contemporary London, much as the
sixth series of The Interrogation by
Roy Williams does. When first DCI
Matthews (Kenneth Cranham) and DS Armitage (Alex Lanipekin) were teamed
together, they disliked each other.
However, by now the two are like a well-oiled machine. Each episode begins with the monologue from
the perpetrator, so once you know the formula, you aren’t necessarily in
suspense for a whodunit—it’s why they did it and what, exactly, did they
do? Matthews and Armitage give the
impression that they would be extremely annoying to actually be interviewed
by. It’s interesting to see how they
alter this from interviewee to interviewee.
Ross was dynamite; the
listeners become detectives, too, unravelling a case when a diagonal approach
is the only effective one. Williams’ ear for dialogue is second-to-none, making
each new character sound authentic. Ross
is a young man in prison. He has poured
scalding hot water on another prisoner, but Matthews and Armitage discover that
it missed its intended victim. There is
a similar sleight-of-hand at work in Jack.
Jack gets pulled in because
apparently he was shoplifting. A lot of
time and effort is expended on whether Jack was actually intending to
shoplifting or whether he it was a mistake.
Judith Kampfner
I don’t remember ever hearing any dramas directed by Judith
Kampfner before, but she proved herself a fine director of some excellent
dramas in 2018. Firstly, In the Shadows by Susan Lieberman,
easily one of the best new radio dramas I heard in 2018, was very much on the
pulse of today’s divisive politics in the US.
It was recorded on location in NYC (though it is set in Chicago),
focusing on the trials and tribulations of Elena (Elaine Valdez), a teenager
with a Mexican background who, among other things, is type 1 diabetic and
cannot get to a hospital because her parents fear to be deported. Everywhere they turn, Elena, her family and
community are under threat. Very
different, but still highly memorable, was Amah
in the Bathtub, written as well as directed by Kampfner. Set in Singapore in 1969, Donna (Amy Warren),
an American journalist, has come to interview British ex-pats to write a novel
about an illicit romance between a British woman and her Chinese
chauffeur. However, Donna gets a lot
more than she bargained for. She meets
Flora (Alexandra Williamson), a northerner who doesn’t fit the typical
(southern, upper middle class) profile of ex-pats. Cleverly written and recorded using the
device of the tape recorder, it makes a unique setting and story.
Outstanding Writers
The list is long this year.
Nev Fountain
Nev Fountain
has been writing for radio for quite awhile.
He indeed found fame through impersonation/comedy series Dead Ringers, and I am highlighting here several pieces of his work connected
to Dead Ringers. Firstly, Dead Ringers: An Alien Has
Landed, co-written with Tom Jamieson, Tom Coles, Ed Amsden, Sarah Campbell,
and Laurence Howarth and directed by Bill Dare.
An effective primer to everything in contemporary British life, from
Theresa May to Jeremy Corbyn to Michael Gove to Big Brother to Jeremy Kyle, it made me laugh a lot. An alien lands on Earth and seems to be
content to stay in the UK. He is adored
at first, then he reaches saturation point and the British public turns on
him. Series 18 was also very funny, co-written with the same writers as
well as James Bugg, Laura Major, and Max Davis and starring Jon Culshaw, Jan
Ravens, Lewis MacLeod, Debra Stephenson, and Duncan Wisbey. I especially enjoyed Joan Bakewell’s
distillation of Love Island for
people who listen to BBC Radio 4, David Davis going back in time to try to
prevent the UK from joining the EU, and the totally wrong predictions about England’s
chances in the World Cup (hindsight is 50/50).
Finally, a seasonal revisit of Son
of Santa on Radio 4 Extra late in 2017 (though I heard it in 2018), written
by Fountain in 1999. In this story, Santa’s
son has an MBA and has come to the North Pole at his father’s invitation. James Fleet is cast against type as the son,
Robin, who of course wants to ruin Christmas by making it all year round, to
increase profit margins or something like that.
Miss Holly Berry (Lynda Bellingham), Santa’s PA, has other ideas. There’s a very funny appearance from the
Easter Bunny (Dave Lamb) and his chick (Ronni Ancona), and the Elves (involved
in industrial action) are quite funny too.
There were some good gags which set the live audience roaring with
laughter. It was directed by Maria
Esposito.
Peter Souter
Peter Souter wrote Stream,
River, Sea, an unassuming drama that was nevertheless very affecting, a
testament both to the writing and to the excellent performances. You know you are always in for a treat when
Alex Jennings and Juliet Stevenson are in a drama. Bella (Stevenson) and Hugh
(Jennings) meet in the hospital as their respective husband and mother are
dying. Bella is deeply in love with her
husband who died much too young. Hugh
has been caring for his bedridden mother for twenty years. While Hugh’s role becomes someone to help
Bella get through her pain, Bella has to help Hugh live his life for the first
time. Bella’s daughter Daisy (Lizzy
Watts) is a typically acid-mouthed teenage brat, but by the end, they are a
content trio. The dark humor of the
scene in which Hugh and Bella encounter each other in the crematorium is funny
and poignant. It was directed by Gordon
House. I hope we hear more from Peter
Souter.
Yolanda Mercy
Although I’ve written elsewhere about playwright Yolanda
Mercy’s drama for Radio 1 Xtra, Quarter
Life Crisis, it’s worth highlighting again:
A radio drama that appealed to the younger generation, witty,
well-written, and felt authentic. It was
also a natural fit for Radio 1 Xtra due to its ongoing hip hop soundtrack. Mercy starred as a 25-year-old from London
who hasn’t quit grown up yet and is trying to figure out her place in the
world. She’s tired of zero-hour
contracts but isn’t ready to get married and settle down, like her cousin Titi. She has to deal with the layers of ancestry
from her Nigerian family and that she was the only black person in her
university class. It was directed by
Caroline Raphael. I’d be very surprised
if we didn’t hear more from Mercy in the near future.
Nick Warburton
I’ve been listening to and writing about radio drama for 11
years now, and I’ve been listening to, and generally in awe of, dramas by Nick
Warburton all that time. He is clearly a
force to be reckoned with. Warburton can
write in practically any genre, but he seems to find a natural home in the
supernatural and the Gothic. He’s
written several stories for the Man in Black, including Making Sacrifices from 1997.
Alison (Caroline Strong) is a very annoying girl at St Liz’s school for
girls. She’s thinking of leaving before
finishing her degree and will leave her turret room to whatever student
bootlicks her way into Alison’s good books.
At first, Kerry (Sarah Rice) seems a bit thick, jolly hockey sticks, but
when Alison leaves her alone to tangle with the groundskeeper, we find out she’s
perfectly cognizant of Alison’s cutting, evil ways. She’s willing to put up with Alison’s
behavior just as long as she can get the turret room. A naïve, shy girl, Corrinna (Alison Pettit),
next shows up, her worm-like demeanour concealing a cool mastermind at work. This
was well-written with Warburton’s signature ability to be gripping even with a
very small cast. And, look, Ma—no
supernatural elements at all! More
recently, Warburton demonstrated his ability once again to write beautifully
for two characters in Irongate from
2013, directed by Peter Kavanagh. Laura
(Emma Fielding) is walking from Kew Bridge to Tower Bridge; she’s on a mission
as she’s doing it for her dead husband on his birthday. She is annoyed to be accosted by a man, James
Fleet playing his typical bumbling, inoffensive character, who insists on
dogging her step. He keeps telling her he understands how she feels.
Eventually, she runs away from him, jumping on two buses and ending up at
Irongate. She is frightened when she
takes the subway, and the man reappears.
I can’t say more or I would ruin it, but it’s a splendid piece of
work. Warburton has also written off and
on for Tommies, and I found the
first episode he wrote, 14 October 1914,
was—in re-listening to it on Radio 4 Extra—quite arresting. The tension between Mickey Bliss (Lee Ross)
and Céléstine di Tullio (Pippa Nixon) was electric. Céléstine also sets the groundwork here for
the appalling atrocities she will be part of during the war as well as her
emotionless calling as a doctor/medical researcher. All is not
quiet on the Western front. It was directed by Jonquil Panting. If Warburton is known for his two-handers and
for ghostly stories, his third area of expertise is religious drama, and he
provided a really interesting take on the mockumentary with 2018’s Oliver Park. Oliver Park sits well beside his earlier
excellent work on Easter, Witness. Oliver
Park is presented as a radio documentary which looks back at a fictional
event in which a tense atmosphere in a south-eastern coastal town blows apart
during marches at Oliver Park, with the murky death of a peaceful
protester. You have your disciple
figure, your Mary Magdalene figure, your Judas figure, your King Herod figure,
and your Caiaphas figure. The Jesus figure
barely speaks—obviously, he’s been killed and has done nothing so crass as rise
literally from the dead—which is in keeping with convention in religious radio
dramas. The Jesus figure’s message of
peace and tolerance is a simple one, explicitly linked to refugees, and Sam
Dale as the head of a vigilante group of “neighborhood watch” who are in no
mood to tolerate refugees or protesters, is absolutely chilling. I understand it was a largely improvised
performance, and it sounds very authentic.
It was directed by Paul Arnold.
Jean Binnie
It seems a shame to have only discovered Jean Binnie now,
via Radio 4 Extra, but better late than never, I guess. Her 1982 drama, Dr Barry, inspired me to read a biography about Dr Barry (née Margaret
Bulkley) last year—unlike another historic unconventional woman whose story is
trendy at the moment, Barry was a commoner and could not risk exposure whereas
Anne Lister, as a wealthy landowner, could better flout custom. The biography I read was published in 2016
and helped throw some light on the many murky aspects of Barry’s life. Such revelations were perhaps not available
to Binnie, but this unusual drama was arresting nonetheless. Structured more like a dramatized biopic than
a drama as such, with a narrator, it starred Veronica Quilligan in the title
role. Rising from poverty in Ireland to graduate from medical school in
disguise as a man, it was a disguise that Dr Barry would retain all her life,
taking her to far-flung places and causing her to die forgotten and alone, even
after decades of faithful service as an innovative doctor and medical
administrator. It was fascinating, well-written, and very well-acted. That Dr Barry may have had a relationship
with the governor of her South African colony, Somerset, is intriguing; Binnie
points out that her existence must have been an incredibly lonely one. In
1989, Binnie wrote a drama about another important female leader in Boudicca’s Victory, which felt very
stage play-like, and with a massive cast.
It was very serious, alleging that Boudicca’s real enemy was the
patriarchy which tried to sponge her out of history from the very beginning
(her own Druids manipulating her, her would-be lover Abbay, and Nyman, the man
who wanted leadership of the Iceni but was thwarted by the woman he hated but
ultimately died defending). Boudicca
(Eileen Pollock) is estranged from her daughters, Beya and Mara, after the
assaults made upon them by the Romans.
It was a truly ensemble piece with singing and audience asides. It was directed by Martin Jenkins.
Sue Limb
Sue Limb is a well-established comedy writer, and while I’ve
heard bits and pieces of her other historical comedy series before (such as Gloomsbury, the parody of the
Bloomsbury Set), the second series of The
Wordsmiths of Gorsemere was positively moreish. Originally from 1987, it’s not a
joke-a-minute like most (modern-day) Radio 4 comedy series. Instead—while certainly some sections are
very absurd and funny—there’s a lot of time for the characters to actually develop,
which is a bit weird, since they are comedy characters and their actual growth
seems somewhat circumscribed. It’s a very
thinly veiled parody of the Romantic poets, centering on William Wordsmith
(Geoffrey Whitehead) and his sister Dorothy (Denise Coffey), living in
Gorsemere. Dorothy’s blind devotion to
her brother borders on the sickening, which is perhaps a less-than-frivolous
comment on the fact that the real Dorothy Wordsworth could have been a great
talent if she was not relegated to being her brother’s amanuensis. William’s wife Mary is such a non-entity she
never gets a word in edgeways, literally, and as such is played by Simon
Callow—who is bursting at the seams in his other role as Samuel Tailor Colericke. Naturally, this role is very amusing after
having listened to Coleridge played “straight” by Tom Wilkinson in Young Coleridge, which is perhaps what
Sue Limb was going for. There are hints
that Colericke would marry Dorothy and whisk her away, if not for the barrier
of his existing wife and children. Thomas
De Quinine (Nickolas Grace) is very amusing, being played as a tiny,
short-sighted Mancunian who seduces the Wordsmiths’ housekeeper “Stinking” Iris
(the irrepressible Miriam Margolyes). In
fact, the Wordsmiths seem to be visited by a succession of regional poets,
including Sir Walter Splott (played delightfully by Bill Paterson), John Sheets
i.e. John Keats (Nicky Henson), and a
car salesman-sounding William Bloke i.e. William Blake (John Shrapnel). One
gets the feeling that Dorothy’s life would be vastly improved if she just slept
with somebody (Colericke or otherwise), not something I would often say about
fictional characters—or indeed, anyone. It was produced by Jonathan
James-Moore. It must have been a lot of fun to write.
Sebastian Baczkiewicz
Finally—way, way too late—I got to hear Pilgrim, the long-running and much-awarded supernatural mystery
series masterminded by Backieciewz in 2008.
I heard the first and second series, and after being initially somewhat
skeptical, I did find them quite entertaining, the character of William Palmer
inextricably linked to Paul Hilton, the actor who plays him. Radio 4 clearly knew what they were doing
when making this series, cognizant of the great possibilities offered by a
long-lived, un-aging protagonist trying to right the wrongs of the supernatural
world invading the normal one. Pilgrim, “apparently” cursed by the King of the
Elves/Fairies in the 1180s for denying the existence of the Grey Folk, has a
liminal and lonely existence in the tradition of immortal outcast figures (like
the Wandering Jew), but is less detached from humanity than you might
suppose. The first series are mostly
adventure-of-the-week type stories, with little to link them, as Pilgrim moves
around interacting with various legends of the British Isles, ranging from
dragons to tree spirits to werewolves to daemons to his own daughter, Doris, a
witch. It’s all acted with the kind of
urgency that helps make real its fantastic premise, and the further you go into
the series, the more spectacular it gets and suffers little from having no
visuals. The next series of Pilgrim, from 2010, was slightly less
successful than the first, I thought, though it continued to plumb the depths
of folklore, including a drowned church, fairies, and ladies of the well,
leading to a suitably dramatic finale that pulls together all the threads of
previous stories. Pilgrim is an original and interesting story, and Baczkiewicz’s
talent is evident. However, it’s in no
way his own radio drama success. More
contemporaneously, he continued in the vein of magical realism with Seven Songs for Simon Dixelius, starring
Arthur Darvill. Simon Dixelius’ fiancée
Chloe leaves him at the altar. In
addition to this emotionally unhinging occurrence, he starts hearing and seeing
sparkly ladies singing him songs by Smokey Robinson, Soft Cell, Lou Reed, David
Bowie, and others. Seven Songs for Simon Dixelius succeeded in being radiogenic,
because in what other medium are the small sparkly singing ladies going to be
acceptable?
Lee Ridley & Katherine Jakeways
Lee Ridley (“Lost Voice Boy”) and veteran comedian Katherine
Jakeways wrote what was probably the best new comedy to come out of Radio 4 in
2018, Ability, a fresh and funny
romp. Partly autobiographical, it’s the
story of Matt, who, like Lee Ridley, has cerebral palsy and cannot speak. He uses a voiced iPad to speak for him, which
gives him a Stephen Hawking-like voice, whereas the voice inside his head is
Geordie and sounds like Andrew Hayden-Smith. Matt is trying to cope away from
his parents’ at a flat he shares with Jess, whom he secretly fancies. He is looked after by first-time carer Bob
(Alan Mustafa), a likeable wheeler and dealer, and together they pull of lots
of silly, slightly illegal capers.
Gerard Foster
I suppose I’ll never be able to forget At Home with the Snails, probably the raciest and most satirical
radio drama I have ever heard on Radio 4 Extra.
It’s well-cast, well-performed, with an earworm of a theme tune (in
which high-pitched snails titter and scream at you). According to this sitcom, the
village-dwelling southern English middle class consists of gardening-obsessed,
amoral, egotistical fathers with no paternal or husbandly feelings who happily
exploit their children’s psychological hang-ups for the sake of selling books
and their wives for all day-to-day maintenance activities; emotionally stunted,
blissfully wrong-headed philistine mothers for whom appearances and useless
craft-making are everything; and adult children who are either money-grubbing,
conventional, and unfeeling or whose lives stopped when they got a 2:1 at
university (shock! horror!) and they spend the rest of their lives rolling
around in sheds with snails. Alex
(played by the writer himself, Gerard Foster) and his sister Rose (Miranda
Hart; yes, that Miranda Hart) couldn’t be more different, but both are the
deranged products of their equally deranged parents, the Fishers (Geoffrey
Palmer and Angela Thorne).
Hilary Lyon
Hilary Lyon wrote the warm-hearted comedy Secrets and Lattes, originally from
2014 and re-broadcast on Radio 4 Extra. It’s
the story of Trisha (Julie Graham), a Scottish-born school art teacher who
returns to Edinburgh to start a coffee shop called Café Culture, financed by
her strait-laced, financially solvent older sister Clare (played by the writer,
Hilary Lyon). They hire an opera-loving
Polish chef, Krysztof (Simon Greenall), who is apparently stunning. Krysztof has secret passport troubles and a
heart condition. Trisha has a secret,
too—she left London after ten years because she had been having an affair with
Richard, a married man with kids. Lizzie
(Pearl Appleby) is a kleptomaniac who inserts herself as a waitress and general
dogsbody. It’s difficult to know whether
to ship Krysztof and Trisha, or Krysztof and Clare, or Trisha and Richard . . .
it’s complicated. I’m looking forward to
series 2.
Marty Ross
And we end on a cracker.
I have long admired the team of Marty Ross and Bruce Young who have
always given horror radio drama a unique twist. In Catch My Breath, they pulled out all the stops in what must be one
of the most Gothic radio dramas ever written—indeed, one of the most Gothic
texts ever made. For all that, it
doesn’t drip with cliché, either, but is quite original and kept me guessing. It’s also very much rooted in Scotland. At five episodes, it’s also one of the
longer, more ambitious original serial horror radio dramas from the BBC (no
doubt having been commissioned due to the pair’s shining track record). There are hints of Old Time Radio in its
protagonists, Kate and Colleen (Claire Knight and Suzanne Donaldson), two
convicted criminals who escape police custody only to fall into the hands of
would-be rapist truckers, wizened old men, feral hunters, witches living in
caves, zombie-like creatures, and that most dangerous creature of all, the
seductive, Miltonic anti-hero. Catch My Breath reminded me a bit of a
haunted house theme park, in that around each corner there were new, wholly
Gothic horrors, which made it unadulterated fun. Adam Strachan (Liam Brennan)
appeared to be an eccentric (but strapping, gorgeous-voiced) bachelor who lived
in an equally eccentric children’s writer’s home in the wilds of Scotland—however,
he was clearly more than meets the eye. I
think it’s very difficult to sustain the tension of a horror story, and the
team did very well to make the multiple episodes of this drama as taut and
well-paced as they did. Brennan as Adam
Strachan, the attractive Gothic monster inhabiting the forbidden castle in the
woods, was absolutely perfect for this part, radiating at first trustworthiness
as he lured in Kate and Colleen, and then beguiling with a voice almost as
gorgeous as Orson Welles’. Performances
overall were pitched at just the right level to sell this extravaganza. I really didn’t want it to ever end. Originally from 2007; please tell me there’s
more.
Okay, well, that’s done (!).
