Sunshine

I had the misfortune to watch this new BBC comedy-drama last night. Difficult to know what to say about it. Undoubtedly it would have worked better as just a comedy. 

I expected big things. I was told to expect big things. Why not? It starred Steve Coogan and Bernard Hill and was co-written and directed by Craig Cash and Phil Mealey. The team who brought us Early Doors and The Royle Family. So what's not to like? 

Loads, I'm afraid.

It was just so predictable. Predictably predictable. Every single scene plodded inexorably towards the next and we, the viewer, had already trotted on a few extra scenes.  

Coogan plays, Bing, a gambling addict who likes a bevvy. His long suffereing wife, played by Lisa Millet, is, er, long suffering. Bing and his mates work on the bins. And like a bevvy.  Bing gambles most of his wages on the gee-gees. And bevvies the rest away.

To be honest, I only have myself to blame, I didn't do the required "due diligence" on this one. If I'd only read the press release I would have known.

Suffused with warmth and laughter, Sunshine is above all a heart-warming story about how when you reach rock bottom the only thing that matters are the people you love.

How crap does that sound! Obviously they weren't aiming this at fans of Early Doors or The Royle Family. I suspect they knew it wasn't up to scratch. The clue is right here:

...above all a heart-warming story...

But the real problem with Sunshine is that it was a series of set-pieces patched together and therefore lacked any cogency. Some of these set-pieces were quite amusing and certainly had an aspect of truth in them. But the programme as a whole had no truth in it. I simply didn't believe in it. 

I don't think this overly bothers [1] programme makers these days. They'll say:

You don't have to believe it, it's entertainment, escapism. Sit back, be enchanted...

Ok, I don't mind a bit of escapism any more than the next man. But you have to be careful what you escape into. I don't want to escape into a pile of old crap. My life isn't that bad! I demand truth in my escapism.

Note to BBC fiction controller, Jane Tranter: 

Can you please keep more control over your fiction. Make it a tad less fictional perhaps?

[1] as opposed to Everly Brothers