Blue Lights a worthy follow up to Happy Valley
BBC One’s latest police procedural is a taut, top-notch drama that will cauterise those wounds left by that damp squib final season of Line of Duty.
Blue Lights
SBS on Demand
Let Blue Lights cauterise those wounds left by that damp squib final season of Line of Duty. Television can’t get enough of bent coppers and with drama as nervy and top-notch as this, who can blame them? This series, from the writers of the excellent espionage drama, The Salisbury Poisonings, centres on three probationary police officers, and is set against a backdrop of organised criminal gangs in the Belfast drug trade. There’s Annie (Katherine Devlin), a hard-partying young one who hides her vocation from her friends; Grace (Sian Brooke), an idealistic former social worker and single mother who made a midlife career-change; and the lily-livered and ungainly Tommy (Nathan Braniff). All three are terribly unprepared for the brutality that’s in store. The drama in this show is taut and suspenseful but, really, what sets it apart is the Cornucopia of fully fleshed-out characters. It recalls Love/Hate, another astonishing Irish drama added to SBS on Demand this month — and it’s a more than worthy follow up to Happy Valley.
The Kingdom
7.30pm, Sunday, June 11 on SBS and SBS on Demand from Thursday, June 8
There are two investigative documentaries about Hillsong set for release in coming weeks. The Secrets of Hillsong, a four-part Vanity Fair-produced documentary exploring the rise and fall of the megachurch, features the first interviews with former pastors Laura and Carl Lentz, since they were publicly ousted from the church. The Kingdom, an SBS documentary, sees Walkley-winning journalist Marc Fennell return to the Pentecostal church for the first time since running away 17 years ago. The latter seeks to provide an answer as to why millions are drawn into this movement every week. The documentary covers familiar ground but the talking heads are compelling and close to home: They are The Youngs, a hip, young, social media savvy couple “planting” a new church in Sydney; a former Hillsong “Kingdom Builder” who left the church after 18 years; and Dave Lillo-Trynes, a former foot soldier for the church, whose dedication to its mission resulted in a mental health collapse.
Roadrunner: A Film About Anthony Bourdain
Netflix
Morgan Neville’s Anthony Bourdain documentary has finally arrived. In crafting this documentary about the beloved bad boy chef, Neville conducted interviews, trawled through thousands of hours of archival footage, and, in a dubious magic trick, used artificial intelligence to give voice to an email the chef had sent to an artist friend: “My life is sort of shit now. You are successful, and I am successful, and I’m wondering, are you happy?” Yet that’s hardly the most ethically-challenged part of this film. The documentary, hastily produced in the wake of Bourdain’s tragic suicide, haphazardly embraces salacious rumours that swirled around his death. It constructs a narrative that points a finger to his tumultuous relationship with Italian director Asia Argento, whom he fell in love with during the production of Parts Unknown. Neville did not attempt to interview Argento for the documentary. The footage is gorgeous in this film, which is a brilliant reminder of Bourdain’s skill as a writer. But it leaves an unpleasant taste.
Vinyl
Binge
With the exception of Donald Glover’s Atlanta(one of the best, weirdest shows of the 21st century), the music business is proving to be challenging material for television. Vinyl is a prime example of an ambitious show that succumbs to its own excesses. The lavish budget ($US100m) series has been a colossal flop and the two-hour pilot (agony) attracted one of the smallest ever showings for an HBO debut. Perhaps it was a case of too many cooks in the kitchen: with Martin Scorsese (who directed the pilot), the Rolling Stones’ Mick Jagger, Boardwalk Empire’s Terence Winter and former Rolling Stone magazine editor Rich Cohen all acting as creators of the series. Vinyl, which centres on a 1970s-era New York City music executive (played by a predictably great Bobby Cannavale), is all surface. It seems to exist solely to showcase the music sequences, costumes, set designs, and an old guy’s idea of just how good things used to be. It’s bogged down by corny cultural nostalgia, but with that said — it’s well acted (Juno Temple, the Ted Lasso breakout, gives a spirited performance), and entertaining enough to keep watching.
Rain Dogs
Binge
This rough-as-guts British breadline drama has all the joy you’d expect from a series that borrows its name from a Tom Waits album: that is to say, not much at all. It is based on writer Cash Carraway’s own experience as a single mum living in abject poverty. Daisy May Cooper — who is on a real winning streak at the moment, and rumoured to be the next M in James Bond — stars as Costello Jones, a single, alcoholic (99 days sober) mother, and aspiring writer, who makes her money dancing at a dingy peep show. Costello is up the creek. When we meet her, she is being evicted from her council flat with her nine-year-old daughter, Iris: “Poverty porn at its finest!” she yells at the callous coppers. From there, it’s a bleak quest around London to find a home for the night. They try to sleep in a laundrette. Then break into a friend’s car. Finally, they take the last, riskiest option: shacking up in the cupboard of a stranger Costello had met hours later at a convenience store who, quelle surprise, is a pervert. They are rescued by Costello’s unlikely gay best friend Florian Selby (Jack Farthing, doing his best Withnail impersonation), and break back into the council apartment. This all happens in the first, half-hour episode — strap in.