Born Naughty

'Born Naughty' seemed just the kind of easy-watch television I was looking for. That was until I started watching. Either the edit selection was shoddy, or the director had no idea what they were looking for, as shots were all similarly awkward. The main coverage was as expected but wherever there was an edit to cover, only aided by voiceover, the shots showed awkward contributors leaving their houses and harsh sound quality differences in ill-fitting flashbacks.

dailymail,co.uk

The voiceover script was great at pointing out the obvious and at times, was a little assuming and cringeworthy. I'm not sure if it was the delivery or the script itself, but either way, lines such as, 'the family, who are now hungry for answers' after an intro about poor Bobby's life-affecting eating habits, just didn't work with the tone of the series. It was supposed to be an investigative medical format in which the aim was to help the families, not laugh at them. More than once were these quite serious issues put down to poor parenting and to mum being called lazy by grandma, and there really is no need to put that comment on every title sequence! The series so far has not captured the medical responsibility at all, nor the doctor/patient understanding. It's more of an 'us' and 'them' feel, gathering evidence in family homes and keeping their findings from them until the big reveal, pinning all their hopes on one moment. Professionalism and sensitivity, if there was any, were not reflected in the edit, jazzing it up with flashbacks and poor audio mixing, and I found it distracting.

radiotimes.com

In episode 2 it wasn't just poor edit selection either, we were being told one thing and shown another. We could pick holes in our 'experts' opinions because we had been present at times when those traits had not appeared on camera. Like when Jessi-Jai, a young girl with speech problems was miraculously saved by losing her dummy. On first visit, when Dr Ravi met her, she was sociable and imaginative, even sharing eye contact. On the second visit she instead did things her way, avoiding interaction. From minute to minute we as an audience were being pulled through a non-existent, inconsistent narrative of edited codswallop, that could potentially even be quite damaging to both contributors and viewers. Parents have the carrot of a cure dangled in front of them for the whole production, only to have their dreams realised, or destroyed right at the end. It's just not ok, I could barely watch. The children themselves were the redeeming ingredient in this horrible mix of opinions and experiments.

Completely insensitive, poorly scripted and inconsistent. Come on Maverick, you can do better than that.

Light Shining in Buckinghamshire

'Light Shining in Buckinghamshire' was a bit of an odd one for me. It was hard to allow myself into a character's life when the character kept changing from preacher to parliamentarian, from army man to squire and landowner. With a sizeable cast there was absolutely no need to multirole, which confused the audience, amidst middle English language and inconsistent costume. 

nationaltheatre.org.uk - photo by Marc Brenner

nationaltheatre.org.uk - photo by Marc Brenner

The set was interesting, I'll give it merit where due. The elaborate royalist banquet table, complete with candelabras and fresh flowers in one scene. Wooden floored manor house the next. Earthy common land by the end. Regardless of whether its symbolism was intended, it represented for me, the fall of the royalist system, into parliamentary England absent of feudalism, for a time. It showed men working the land as men continue to work away at the very foundations of our country's leadership - particularly of late.

marcbrenner.co.uk

londonist.com

But props and costume were odd for me. I was always told if you're going to go period, you need to do it wholeheartedly. And I believe that's right. It's confusing and off-putting for characters to be wearing roughs, sacks and rags within the same scene as PVC raincoats and hoodies. The same inconsistency was apparent in the prop selection. Wooden crates and quills one minute, flasks and plastic cups the next. Which period are we in - or was that the point? Perhaps the choice was a conscious one, to include these modern reminders to drive the message home that the politics of change are ever constant, particularly after the recent election. I just thought that it wasn't particularly well executed and it instead came across as a lax attempt from the costume and prop designer. I found myself noticing how a red plastic crate didn't belong in the scene and it was off-putting enough to draw me away from the dialogue.

nationaltheatre.org.uk - photo by Marc Brenner

The cast was filled with strong onscreen characters, who thankfully claim the same calibre of talent onstage. Leo Bill, Adelle Leonce and Joe Caffrey were characters to highlight with a challenge coming form younger cast member Joshua James, whose energy may have convinced a passionate atheist that god was within. His command of the stage was wonderful to watch. I'll also give particular mention to Ashley McGuire who managed to evoke tears within herself, amidst a rather frantic scene. There was certainly some good inner character work going on in that head of hers. But despite our characters best efforts, we were still lost in a slightly aimless narrative of middle English parliament, telling of rebellion, rather than enacting it.

nationaltheatre.org.uk - photo by Marc Brenner

I also noticed that on stage right (and more than once) did the gathering of cast members appear on a single level, in a straight line - not nearly the calibre of positioning seen before at the Lyttleton. But it was the script I felt that let us down the most. The cast did their best with what they had and poor production choices in multi-rolling and inconsistent aesthetic, just made for a more average NT production than the stage is used to. It gained something back from me with some fantastically arranged choral music, with additional original musical-glas FX from Helen Chadwick and I wholeheartedly stand by for Joshua James' next stage appearance.

Frederick Wiseman: The National Gallery

I've grown up with Frederick Wiseman being someone to look up to on the documentary stage. That was - until this.

bbc.co.uk

accessfitness.ie

This 3 hour blank canvas of mundane nothingness. It's like we're looking at rushes back to back. There was no selective editing of conversation, no pace, no additional audio, no name-straps, no music, no voiceover - essentially no production. Wiseman manages in three hours to completely starve the National gallery of the very thing it stands to hold - art. The documentary is literally the outcome of a man and his camera (sometimes 2) filming anything and everything with no direction. It is perhaps the dullest documentary I've ever seen on screen - and that statement comes after last week's Channel 4 broadcast of 'All Aboard: The Canal Trip'.

rete.re.it

I understand that yes, the 3 hour duration is probably representative of the time it takes to walk around the gallery itself. I understand that the documentary's aim is possibly to allow us to observe and experience the REAL National Gallery, rather than an authored one that is made to be more entertaining. BBC Four just please, for the sanity of us all, remind Wiseman that we pay our licence fees to gain something in return, and all I gained from this is an education in how NOT to make an observational documentary. It's as though even he got bored of it.

wikipedia

I was more interested in the janitor mopping the floors outside my own evening study room than I was in anything that the lady onscreen was attempting to relay to a very bored and tired looking trustee. At times I did feel I was studying the film as I would a painting, but watching on television is NOT the same as being there, no matter how much defendants of Wiseman attempt to persuade me that THIS TIME it is. If I wanted a three hour tour of the gallery I would go. I don't expect to turn my television on to such an empty exhibition.

There is no narrative, no structure - it almost echoes the tragedy of my early re-edits of film trailers using google images and windows movie-maker. The images might be a little sharper, but the edit is more or less the same.

Most critics seem laboured in offering an opinion on this absolute waste of everybody's time. So if they won't stand alongside the Guardian's Jonathan Jones, I will. He's right when he says it is 'crushingly elitist', 'smug' and 'patronising'. All evidence points towards the admission that Wiseman might be past it. It was rubbish. Bring me back the canals!!!



You can read Jonathan's review here: http://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/jonathanjonesblog/2015/jan/05/frederick-wiseman-national-gallery-dull-elitist-jonathan-jones

Inside Harley Street

Inside Harley Street - in short, a total parody of high society. Where mums pop round to do the washing for their 30yr olds, where school girls are given designer watches for having braces fitted, where doctors buff their fingernails, where nip and tucks cost £30,000 and growing old gracefully is not an option. It is, perhaps, the most ridiculous three-part series I've seen on the BBC in a long time. Albeit that it lost its impact as the episodes continued and we were confronted with the same kinds of people, under similar circumstances.

bbc.co.uk - shoemaker's patient

The Harley Street estate is owned by the Howard DeWalden family and has been in the family for over 300yrs. It is valued at approximately £2.7billion - which goes far enough in explaining the clientele it attracts. On the most part, the documentary delivers exactly what we expect; rich aristocrats who couldn't tell you how much anything costs, stressed businessmen who are looking to find the key to rejuvenation, snobby old ladies who tell us they 'don't sacrifice anything for anyone' - the usual. However, there were moments that touched us too, like the story of a young Russian boy who had undergone numerous back passage operations and just wanted to live a normal life, a sponsored young middle Eastern patient with a brain tumour, or the story of an orthopaedic shoemaker who helps a charming elderly lady and a smiley young woman with cerebral palsy.

radiotimes.com

Part 1 was laughable. Vanessa Engle's frank and antagonistic questions were a dream to watch, the contributors even more so for squirming under her thumb. A particular favourite made it to the opening credits, as one of our doctors reveals, 'I have nothing to hide. If someone asks me what I earn, I earn x'. Vanessa's unique style delivers just what we'd expect in conversation with a lady about to undergo surgery to rid her of her ageing upper arms, as she poses the question, 'Do you ever think: actually, this is not important and I should go and find an orphanage in Romania or fight for world peace instead?' - met with just the kind of shifting eye contact and awkward body shifts that we'd expect. Yet not one of our contributors crumble.

I also enjoyed the fact that the music - including many the Eminem instrumental - was completely juxtaposed with the characters we meet. Although they go some way towards trying to seem approachable and humble, they just come across awkward and false. It's a tough game when you're set out against Engle.

dailymail.co.uk

In part 2, it wasn't just the interviews that spiced up the content, although one person's reasoning behind cosmetic surgery did seem a little over the top - 'People want to look good to keep their jobs'. I guess that means all of our politicians are out of luck for the general election then!

We even met one man who paid £7000 for a hair transplant - the price of holidays for seven years according to his mum.

I was particularly shocked by the visit to the Anti-ageing congress, where it felt more like a trip to the house of horrors than a place where people go to look good and feel young. In fact, I think the Guardian's Michael Hogan pretty much sums it up:

With a sad lack of self-awareness, one woman insisted she’d know when to stop having work done. At least, I think it was a woman. She looked more like a cartoon cat.

ebookee.net

Part 3, strayed towards the more weird and wonderful practices on Harley Street as we meet a therapist who cries because she loves her leeches and a Chinese doctor who prescribes herbs to help women to conceive. There were intravenous drips infusing vitamins directly to the bloodstream and just far too much weird, for far too much money, for my liking.

It was like a high-end cocktail of pompous hypochondriacs and over-paid private medical professionals but not for one minute do we find the contributors painful to watch. The scarce appearance of genuine patients seeking the best care and Engle's authored challenges, are enough to keep us engaged and entertained. It was a good insight into the workings of Harley Street, though I would have liked to have seen more of a focus on the patients journeys through treatment to see what private healthcare is all about.

One thing's for sure, I don't think I'd like to sit opposite Engle, if she's the one asking questions!

tvguide.co.uk