US TV

Mini-review: Those Who Kill 1×1 (A&E)

In the US: Mondays, 10/9c, A&E

There’s a lot of debate about the purpose of international remakes, particularly in the age of the internet, BBC4 and streaming services that allow you to watch the originals even before the remakes air.

I think there’s a point when

  1. It’s a good show
  2. Not many people will have seen it
  3. You do something good with it

So, for example, there was a point to Showtime’s remake of Prisoners of War/Hatufilm, Homeland, which told a different story from the original, which being on Israeli TV hardly anyone had seen; there was also a point to The Tunnel, Sky Atlantic/Canal+’s remake of Denmark/Sweden’s Bron/Broen, since it tied up the narrative considerably and gave it far more local colour and humour, even if the female lead character was nowhere near as good.

I will tell you what there’s is absolutely no point to, though: it’s A&E’s Those Who Kill, which fails on all three counts. Firstly, the original Danish show, Den Som Dræber, which aired on ITV3 in the UK and is available on Netflix in the US, was rubbish – a terrible attempt to make a US serial killer and crime show that treated women terribly and was unremarkable in every way, beyond featuring Lars Mikkelsen.

Neither of those would have been insurmountable issues, had the writers and producers actually done something good with it. But they haven’t. It’s almost exactly the same.

In it, Chloe Sevigny, who was so good in Sky Atlantic’s Hit and Miss but is utterly ignorable in this thanks to having to play a thankless, by the numbers, blank cipher of a rookie detective, goes through exactly the same motions as her Danish predecessor, assisted/hindered by dodgy university professor/potential serial killer James D’Arcy. The big change, if you can call it that, is that while Lars Mikkelsen’s character was a surprisingly supportive and emotive boss, James Morrison’s (Space: Above and Beyond, 24) is a surprisingly supportive and growling boss.

It’s clearly got a much bigger budget than the original, has Glen Morgan (Space: Above and Beyond, The X-Files) writing and producing, and Joe Carnahan (The Grey, The A-Team, The Blacklist) directs the pilot at least. But it adds nothing to something that was incredibly derivative and cliched in the first place.

This is rubbish in any language. I don’t need to review it because I’ve reviewed it already and I don’t need to watch any more of it because I’ve watched it already.

US TV

Mini-review: Mixology 1×1-1×2 (ABC)

Mixology

In the US: Wednesdays, 9.30/8.30c, ABC

Sometimes, the best ideas get the worse implementations. Rom-coms are generally very predictable. Boy meets girl, boy and girl like each/hate each, obstacles keep them apart/bring them together and then they wind up together. The end.

So you’ve got to hand it to ABC for trying to be a little different with Mixology, a one-season long ‘romantic mystery’ in which a whole group of men and women meet each other in a bar one night and you have to work out who’s going to end up with whom by the end of the season, each episode focusing on a different potential pairing.

Nifty so far, hey? Maybe you’re worried that the ‘one night’ thing will be too limiting? Don’t worry – there’s flashbacks aplenty to give you background story.

Should be a winner, huh?

Unfortunately, this is a show from the writers of The Hangover. Nothing wrong with the first movie, which was a lot funnier and cleverer than you might have expected. However, all that movie’s insight into women (next to none) and general sensitivity (next to none) appears to have been funnelled into this show, too.

Because it’s just horrible. It contains men who really shouldn’t be allowed out of a prison cell, let alone date; its women are basically that same kind of man with breasts. Laughs then revolve around crassness and gross outs, rather than characterisation, clever writing or strong plotting.

Or even – and here’s a thought – romance.

None of the cast redeem themselves with subversive, intelligent or incisive performances. The writing never rises above a level where you want to do anything beyond napalm ABC for making the show. It’s wretched.

Sorry ABC – there’s experimental but sometimes you have to know when your hypothesis is just wrong from the very beginning.

The Wednesday Play: Absolute Hell (1991)

Bad reviews and low audience turnouts can really shake a playwright’s nerves. Case in point: Rodney Ackland.

Ackland’s The Pink Room/The Escapists was the playwright’s first large-cast drama, following a series of musical collaborations during the 1940s. First performed in Brighton and then at the Lyric Hammersmith in 1952, the play was set in Soho right after World War 2 and had a cast of characters including gay men, lesbians, party girls, drunks and drag queens that pushed stage ‘morality’ at the time to its limits.

Unsurprisingly, it got a severe critical panning and the play’s financier – no lesser a person than Terence Rattigan – is alleged to have never wanted to see Ackland again.

As a result, for 40 years, apart from one further play and an adaptation, that was it from Ackland. However, in the 1980s, when permissiveness was greater and while suffering from leukaemia, Ackland decided to rewrite the play, retitling it Absolute Hell in the process. And in 1988, it was performed in Richmond at the Orange Tree to some success – a little too late for Ackland.

In 1991, just a few months before Ackland’s death, Anthony Page adapted it for the BBC. Starring Judi Dench, Bill Nighy, Ronald Pickup, Francesca Annis, Charles Gray, Nathaniel Parker, Ray Winstone and many others, Absolute Hell is thoroughly enjoyable, if only to see the great and the good gaying it up for all they’re worth.

Enjoy!

What TV’s on at the BFI in April 2014

It’s time for our regular look at the TV that the BFI is showing, this time in April 2014. Opera dominates the schedule this time, with a season of opera productions, both filmed and specially performed for television, and a Q&A with Mr Jonathan Miller himself about the future of opera on TV. But there’s also a season starting in April celebrating BBC2’s 50th anniversary, an evening devoted to April Fool jokes and a Missing Believed Wiped Special devoted to Michael Palin and Terry Jones’ The Complete and Utter History of Britain that will be introduced by Palin himself.

Continue reading “What TV’s on at the BFI in April 2014”