Kerry Parnell: Revisit some of that unabashed ‘80s excess with Rivals
Who knew a 1980s bonkbuster is what we all needed right now but, trust me, need it we do, writes Kerry Parnell.
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Superb bums, magnificent mansions, hilarious hairdos and more cheese than a Swiss fondue
– if you haven’t streamed Rivals yet, what have you been doing?
Who knew a 1980s bonkbuster is what we all needed right now but, trust me, need it we do. I’ve been bingeing on this ribald romp on Disney for a week and, well, let’s just say, my dreams have gone technicolour. Apologies to the ex-boss who popped-up, unexpectedly.
Rivals, for anyone too young to have read Jilly Cooper’s saucy bestseller, is the lurid tale of TV titans, set in the 1980s, in the fictional upmarket English county of Rutshire – pun intended – with its honey-stoned mansions and Versace-clad inhabitants. Actually, scratch that, the wealthy inhabitants are mostly unclad, including a memorable naked tennis scene. I’m surprised Disney had the balls to air it but, my God, I Love All.
It stars Dr Who’s David Tennant as TV network-owner and megalomaniac, Lord Tony Baddingham, Poldark’s Aidan Turner as headstrong chat show host Declan O’Hara, and Alex Hassell as ex-showjumper-turned-MP Rupert Campbell-Black, a kind of dastardly Darcy.
The tone is set from the opening scene of the series, where you see Campbell-Black, or rather his bottom, joining the mile high club on Concorde to the tune of Addicted to Love. Short of bursting into applause, once you’ve seen that, you’re on board for the rest of the journey.
Like the decade, you could never call Rivals PC, but it is equal opportunities when it comes to nudity.
“There’s a willy for every pair of tits,” writer and producer Dominic Treadwell-Collins told the UK’s The Times. A different kind of box-ticking, then.
What it is, is excessive, camp, silly and absolutely glorious. I’ve previously written about why I love Emily in Paris for its unapologetic positivity and pretty city-setting, and Rivals fits nicely into this “happy TV filmed in a luxury locale” genre, albeit at the saucier end. Emily would choke on her pain au chocolat if she was relocated to Rutshire.
Were the 1980s quite as sex-mad as all that? You’d think so from the bonkbusters which were bestsellers back then. As well as Jilly Cooper’s Rutshire Chronicles, this was the era of Jackie Collins, Dallas and Dynasty, shoulder-pads, huge hair, brick phones and, crucially, no record of it on social media. You could pretty much get away with anything … and people did.
Like the power suits and perms, bonkbusters inevitably went out of fashion, but I guarantee
you’ll watch Rivals and wish – just a tiny bit – you could temporarily revisit some of that unabashed excess. I’ve only got the final episode left and I really don’t want it to come to an end.
Which leads me to another season climax. This is my final column, as I’m signing off from my endless waffling and saying goodbye. While I’m sure this news will frankly come as a relief to many, I do seriously want to thank everyone who commented, emailed and messaged me over the years. I loved hearing from you.
The pleasure, as they say, has been all mine which, thinking about it, is probably why I got the snip. Bugger.
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