Last week the new series of Ashes to Ashes, the spin off from the excellent Life on Mars, returned to our screens. I must admit I didn't rate the first series and only tuned in because Keeley Hawes is definitely worth one. Actually thinking about it, more than one.
I saw an interview with Dean Andrews, aka DS Ray Carling (great name), a few months back, when he stated the writers of the show were looking to give the second series more of a serious tone than the played for laughs first.
Unfortunately, so far, the whole thing's left me feeling very disappointed. The programme just doesn't seem to know what it wants to be.
Life on Mars worked because it combined comedy with moments of genuine drama. A gritty reality and attention to the 70s detail, plus the question of whether Sam was really back there or merely hallucinating, led to some genuinely original, gripping television.
I've just watched "One Summer" the drama filmed in 1983, starring David Morrissey and Spencer Leigh as two scouse teenagers who run away to North Wales. One of the things that struck me was how different everything looked, from the buses and cars to the decor to the clothes.
Ashes to Ashes is supposed to be set in 1982, but just doesn't look right. The whole thing has the appearance of a 1980s music video. Neon lighting, plus black ash furniture, stripey red sofas and wedge haircuts do not automatically give the programme an authentic sense of being back in that era. I suppose it could be argued that since this isn't actually taking place and is only a constuct of DI Alex Drake's memory, she has filtered out the background noise and created her own reality. Like when I remember 1984, I think of the drought and adverts with Stuart Hall standing at the bottom of a dried up reservoir, yet can only vaguely remember having seven shades of shit knocked out of me one evening after I missed the bus and was ambushed by some older lads. Memory can be very selective.
The other point is that the series doesn't have the weight to really represent what policing was like in pre-PACE days. If you want that, check out the fly-on-the-wall documentary "Police" filmed at Reading nick in 1981 and broadcast at the beginning of 1982. The episode, "A Complaint of Rape" is still difficult to watch. The complainant, who was reporting she had been raped by three strangers, is treated to a inquisition by three male officers, one of whom states, "This is the biggest load of bollocks I've ever heard". Within the interview room one can almost feel the oppressive claustrophobia.
Remember Ashes to Ashes is supposed to be set twelve months after the widespread rioting which set Britain's inner cities ablaze, a matter of months after Lord Scarman has reported "unquestionable evidence of the disproportionate and indiscriminate use of 'stop and search' powers by the police against black people". This is a year after The Peoples March for Jobs, a modern day Jarrow Crusade had made its' way from Liverpool to London. As unemployment sored to three million, as the monetarists ran amok, the Prime Minister presented the inhuman face of Torism, "To those waiting with bated breath for that favourite media catchphrase, the U-turn, I have only one thing to say: 'You turn if you want to. The lady's not for turning".
Given this, a soundtrack of Duran Duran and The Teardrop Explodes doesn't really go far enough to capture the spirit of the times.
Also the whole premise that Gene Hunt's entire squad would have upped sticks and made their way down to London also seems contrived. Weren't the Met doing alright fitting people up themselves?
Having said all that, I suppose I am guilty of over examining the whole thing and should be accepting Ashes to Ashes for what it is, light entertainment, not some social realism docu-drama in the Ken Loach oeuvre.
Anyway enough said. I'm off to run an iron over my Farahs and Pringle sweater. Crank up the Kajagoogoo, it's 80s night at the Dog and Duck.