Sectarian Relief:Trespasses.

"There are no coincidences in Belfast" - Michael Agnew 

Tanks, drunken soldiers, kneecapping, flags, a bombed out pub, and IRA and TAIGS OUT graffiti. Yes, it's 'the troubles', that mealy mouthed term that has come to be used to describe a civil war while maintaining the illusion that Britain doesn't really do civil wars.

But in the 1970s we did. And you can tell it's the 1970s because people drive Ford Cortinas, wear bellbottoms and big pointy collars, watch The Generation Game and Rumpole Of The Bailey (even Jim'll Fix It gets a mention), drink free milk at schools (before Thatcher snatched it), and do Frank Spencer impressions. Mmm, Betty!

In 1975, in a small town near Belfast, Cushla Laverty (Lola Petticrew), drives an orange Austin Allegro and works as a teacher during the day and and at her brother, Eamon's (Martin McCann), pub in the evening before going home to look after her alcoholic mother Gina (Gillian Anderson in a role that's as far from Dana Scully as you're likely to get).

Cushla is Catholic. Michael Agnew (Tom Cullen) is a suave, erudite, and learned Jameson drinking Protestant barrister who's quite a bit older than Cushla but the two of them fall madly in love. However, love through the barricades (sometimes quite literally) is never easy and is, of course, fraught with danger. That's the premise of Channel 4's Trespasses (directed by Dawn Shadforth and based on a book by Louise Kennedy) and it's a premise the show eventually delivers on.

Even if, in places, the political dimension of the story is more dramatic and believable than the romantic, and - indeed - sexual - there's a fair bit of shagging, aspect. It's a Northern Irish take on the classic Romeo and Juliet story but it's hard, sometimes, to see what this Juliet sees in her Romeo. Michael's a philanderer and an arch manipulator and some of his friends, most notably the permanently neckerchiefed Victor McIntyre (Barry Ward), are insufferable snobs and look down on Catholics.

Not Michael though. He sees the best in people and it's the same for Cushla who refuses to join the chorus of anti-Protestantism that echoes throughout her school and in the flag adorned housing estates she's not supposed to visit. As an aside it had me wondering at the current and ongoing situation in parts of the UK where roundabouts are being painted and certain flags are being raised. I wonder why some in the country are aspiring to ape the look of a 1970s war zone.

One of Cushla's students, the adorable Davy McGeown (Daithi O'Haragain), comes from a mixed family and both him, and his family, have it tough. Father Seamie (Andrew Porter) is brutally beaten and is left so incapacitated it falls to mother Betty (Emily Taaffe) to look after the kids. One of whom, Tommy (Conlaoch Gough-Cunningham), appears hell bent on revenge for those who caused Seamie his injuries.

Then there's Cushla's teacher friend Gerry (Oisin Thompson). George Best lookalike Gerry starts off trying to romance Cushla before they fall in to a close platonic friendship. That, however, does not stop Cushla using Gerry as a front so she can continue her relationship with Michael. Not a kind act as it places Gerry in serious danger. Gerry has his own stuff to deal with too.

As does Michael. Special Branch suspect he may be a traitor because he's learning to speak Irish and he's too friendly with the Catholics (very friendly with some of them, eh?). Romantically, his circumstances are complicated and when he delivers a beautiful and moving rendition of the gospel song That Will Be The Last Move For Me we can't, like Cushla, help wondering if the words may prove prophetic.

In fact, Trespasses does a great job on the music front. There's John Martyn, Dusty Springfield, Scott Walker, Karen Dalton, Lisa O'Neill, Paper Lace, Thin Lizzy, Mud's Tiger Feet, Dr Feelgood, Van Morrison's Into The Mystic, and a couple of fine examples of crate digging in Andy Kim's Rock Me Gently and Our Day Will Come by Ruby & The Romantics.

Along with the meticulous period detail, it helps set the scene for a drama that starts slowly but eventually leaves the viewer gripped. I read a rave review (Rhik Samadder in The Guardian) of Gillian Anderson's performance but I had a few doubts (found it a bit too actor-y). Though elsewhere everyone's on top of the game in an intriguing drama that hinges on threats, perceived threats, bluebells, and a shadowy man smoking cigarettes in the night (Anderson must have thought she was back on The X-Files). There is also, about three quarters through, a quietly delivered but devastating shock. As in Belfast in the 1970s, it's the explosions that cause the damage but it's the slow and painful process of rebuilding that lingers the longest. One can find relief from sectarianism in the arms and bodies of others. But there are people out there who will do anything to stop that happening. 

Naive Prey:The Jetty.

"Beautiful places still have darkness"

The outskirts of Rochdale have never looked so gorgeous but some of the people put you off. When detective Ember Manning (Jenna Coleman) is sent to investigate an arson attack at a local holiday home she unlocks a world of criminality, grooming, underage sex, and, even, potentially, a portal into her own past. It's a job that might even destroy her.

That's the premise of The Jetty (BBC1/iPlayer, originally aired in July 2024, written and created by Cat Jones, and directed by Marialy Rivas) and it's one that works incredibly well in places and not so well in others. It's tense and claustrophobic but at times it drags and some of the dark twists, of which there are many, are over convoluted and, in one case, massively implausible.

Recently widowed, Ember is sleeping with a knife in her bed and that worries daughter Hannah (Ruby Stokes). Ember had Hannah as a teenager and at times they'd pass for sisters as easily as mother and daughter. 

Miranda Ashby (Shannon Watson) is at the same school as Hannah and life has not been so kind to her. She's fallen pregnant underage to an unnamed, and likely much older, man and she's on the cusp of doing herself in. Sheena, Miranda's mum (Georgina Rich) isn't in the mood to help Ember and Ember isn't even supposed to be investigating Miranda's case in the first place.

What is it that has her so interested? Is it her concerns for Miranda, her worries about Hannah, or even her curiosity about her own life with husband Malachy (Tom Glynn-Carney) who we see mostly in flashback strumming an acoustic guitar and looking to all the world like the sort of dead end boyfriend most girls soon grow out of.

Not Ember it seems. Podcaster Riz (Weruche Opia) has taken an interest in the goings on in the area and she seems also to have woken Ember up to some uncomfortable truths after her own life. Riz (who "chases the darkness" for a living) believes Miranda has been raped and she also believes that Miranda is not the only one and that others are in danger. She's also researching the disappearance of schoolgirl Amy Knightly (Bo Bragason) some seventeen years ago.

Cue another flashback to the 2000s. Amy is the school rebel and Caitlin, or Kitty (Laura Marcus) is her shy and awkward friend. The two of them walk out of school together, drink alcohol together, take furtive steps into the sexual arena together (though Amy is far more experienced than Caitlin) and even wank off a horse for no specific reason other than the sheer naughtiness of doing so. We also see Amy snogging Malachy when he was a younger man and before he met Ember. Very close to the day she went missing in fact. 

In a case that remains unresolved. As the investigation begins to bleed more and more into Ember's life she's not helped by her police colleagues and seniors. Sidekick Hitch (Archie Renaux) is immature and in with a bad lot himself (but when Ember describes him as "a puppy trying to do maths" it highlights the show's weakly humorous dialogue far better than it describes Hitch's character) and it's always good to see Ralph Ineson but his DI Morgan is a stock character whose only purpose seems to be to block, impede, and then grudgingly concede to Ember's supposed will power.

To either flesh out the story of further muddy the waters we have Hannah's unreliable boyfriend Troy (Ruaridh Mollica), Matthew McNulty as Arj, an old friend of both Malachy and Ember, David Ajala as Ember's new therapist and potential love interest Casey, and Elliot Cowan as Russell, Amy's angry and suspicious father. He's so angry and suspicious he's surely being served up as a red herring. There's also Amelia Bullmore as Ember's hippy mum, a 'medium' with dubious powers who once put magic mushrooms in a CupaSoup.

Against the backdrop of a picturesque lake, rolling hills, and some textbook canal scenery (check out Ember and Hannah's location) we're taken on a bumpy journey through a world of Japanese knotweed, spent condoms, a red Saab, and a sense of recovered trauma that also includes a paved garden you can't help wonder about, a moment when people rebel by listening to The Killers (really!?), and an incorrectly attributed Charles Darwin quote.

The Jetty tackles themes of sexism, grooming, and the age of consent and it also makes a few (somewhat blunt) points about rich outsiders moving into small rural communities and pricing the locals out but what it aims most hard for is to be a gripping drama that tackles personality and memory as much as it does crime. As with our memories, it succeeds up to a point but it doesn't quite come off. Beautiful places still have darkness - but they also have disappointment.

TADS #75:Hayes to Isleworth (or Insane In The Crane).

Phew! That was the busiest year of TADS ever. Eleven walks. None of them cancelled. Nearly all of them fully completed. More importantly than anything else, it was a lot of fun too.

We started off in February with a stroll from Ash Vale to Farnham (there was cake, there was an Aldershot acorn). In March, three of us yomped via Eggington from Bletchley to Leighton Buzzard, April's walk from Balcombe to Haywards Heath saw the Ouse Valley Viaduct and the Ardingly Reservoir, May witnessed a mild ticking off between Guildford and Horsley, and in June we took a pleasurable amble between High Wycombe and Beaconsfield.

July saw us walk to Bognor Regis from Chichester and we were back at the coast in August for a boozy weekend's walking around Weston-super-Mare and Cheddar Gorge. September it was out to Stanford-le-Hope from Tilbury (with the pigs and horses) in Essex, and last month was a pretty long stretch from Meopham to Swanley and Kent. Then, last weekend, we finished it all off with Insane In The Crane which, truth be told, was not my favourite walk of the year.

That's not to throw shade on those who joined me. I enjoyed their company as much as ever but I wasn't feeling great at all. I've had (and still have) a bastard of a cold. I've been sweating, having hot flushes, having cold flushes, snotting, coughing, and sneezing and my eyes have been full of some horrific rheum/sleepy dust. On the way to the start of the walk (Windrush to Whitechapel, Elizabeth to Hayes and Harlington) I felt a bit faint.

When I got off the train into the fresh air I felt a bit better. When I, almost immediately, bumped into Adam, Teresa, and Shep I felt better still. We headed away from the station to the allocated brunch location past rows of former vinyl pressing factories and a large model of Nipper, the HMV dog.

So far, so good. Swallows Cafe, however, had seen better days. We could smell food but we could not avail ourselves of any. Something to do with food was going on inside the unfriendly looking industrial unit but what was once Swallows Cafe was now a junkyard.

A wicker basket, a cot, several bikes, a few smashed up tables but definitely no cafe anymore. We waited for Pam and headed back along the canal to whence we came from. It was a pretty stretch at least. We tried a cafe that had no room for us, considered Spoons, and then opted for Cafe Roma! Let's help out a small local independent business.

Oh dear! The guy serving had no rolls, sandwiches, or baguettes. No cheese either. Pam's tea was so awful she got Teresa to try it and Teresa could only remark "I think it's tea" as a large solid slop was peeled off the top. I had some toast that tasted like cardboard (that could have been my cold but it looked pretty disgusting) but Shep was happy with his fry up and when Colin and Jason arrived to join us they seemed happy with their orders too. 

Despite its uninspiring current state, Hayes has quite a storied history. It appears in the Domesday Book. was once home to EMI's HQ (Beatles records were manufactured at The Old Vinyl Factory), and among its historical residents we can find George Orwell (he was a senior master at Hawthorns' High School for Boys), and the composer William Byrd. In the case of Orwell, he camouflaged Hayes as West Bletchley for his enjoyable novel Coming Up For Air. Orwell called Hayes a "godforsaken" place full of "clerks" who frequent tin roofed chapels on Sundays and bolt themselves in for the rest of the week.

The methodists John and Charles Wesley used to preach in Hayes and it's also been the UK home of both Heinz and Nestle. United Biscuits used to make Jacob's Cream Crackers in Hayes and the first ever Marshall amp was made there. The EMI foundation stone was laid by Dame Nellie Melba.

The Crane, which we'd try and follow, is an eight a half mile long Thames tributary that flows through the boroughs of Hillingdon, Hounslow, and Richmond but we set off, first of all, along the canal and through North Hyde Gardens before coming off it, on an overly complicated bridge,  and heading via Watersplash Lane into Cranford Country Park with its veteran sweet chestnut tree.

We looked, without joy, for Tony Hancock's final resting place in St Dunstan's Church (Hancock only got to the age of 44 so perhaps I should stop moaning about my lot healthwise) and equally had no joy finding where The Frog's Ditch joined the Crane. It was a pleasant spot though. The sun was out, the fields were green, and everyone seemed in a jolly mood.

 

We passed through Berkeley Meadows, along Cranford Lane and through a residential area where the planes landing at nearby Heathrow started to look lower and lower. Because they were lower and lower. Another stretch of the Crane (or near the Crane) bought us out near Heathrow itself and as people had been asking about pubs (we had had a right cafe faff earlier) and the rain was starting to come down I decided to call an earlier pub stop.

We walked along the side of Heathrow and made our way to The Green Man in Hatton Cross where a one armed barman served us pints and Shep angrily dismissed Squeeze's Labelled With Love as one of the worst songs ever (I don't agree with him) and awarded the pub a seven out of ten.

Inevitably, this being end of term - you can bring games in, a two pint mistake was made and soon Pam and Colin were leaving as they had evening events. Pam had a birthday party in Hammersmith and Colin was off to see Public Service Broadcasting at the Barbican.

The rest of us left the pub and walked along a wet and dark road for a couple of miles. It was too dark and wet now to pick up the riverside path and time was also against us so after much debate (it felt endless) we decided to get a brace of buses to our end point. A friendly Christian lady gave us local travel advice and on the second bus, much to  Adam's immense glee, a couple of young girls gave up their seats for me and Shep.

Yes, that's how old we are now. On arriving in Isleworth (through busy roads, there had been rugby at Twickenham) there was just time for a quick drink in The Red Lion which Shep gave 6/10. It may have scored higher if it hadn't just hosted a kid's party that looked as if it had ended in a riot. In the Cinnamon Lounge, Sharon joined us and we talked about The Clash, looked (sadly) at a man's ample bum cleavage, and everyone (except me because I could hardly taste anything) enjoyed their food. And that was it. Then it was over. TADS done for another year. All too soon. I even felt a bit sad.

Thanks to Shep, Teresa, Adam, Pam, Jason, Sharon, and Colin for joining me yesterday (and to Pam and Colin for some of the photos used in this blog and Adam for the map) and thanks to (take a deep breath) Adam, Teresa, Pam, Shep, Roxanne, Clive, Jason, Sharon, James, Ian, Tina, Neil, Neill, Ben, Chris, Julia, Tony, Alex (and Freddie), Darren, Cheryl, and Dan  for being part of the ever expanding TADS family in 2025. Here's to February 2026 where we'll start in Alton for something I'm calling Bostin' Jane Austen. See you there. Have a good winter break.

 

Civilians Now Living Will Never Die:Celebrity Traitors.

"We're all trying to get rid of traitors" - Jonathan Ross

"W'ere not ALL trying to get rid of traitors" - Joe Marler

In the end, there was never any doubt. Celebrity Traitors (BBC1/iPlayer) was enormously successful, tense in places, hilarious in others, and hugely addictive and enjoyable. I'd had doubts. As a big fan of the 'cilivian'  version I wondered it it'd be too knowing, too cosy, or even too boring. I needn't have. It was none of those things. My fears were dispelled a few minutes into the first episode and I was hooked from thereon in.

For a start, unlike regular Traitors, I didn't have to spend the first few episodes trying to work out who everyone was and remember their names. That's because, unlike other celebrity shows, these were mostly people I'd heard of. Some of them very famous. I sorted them in to a rough order of fame at the beginning so here goes:-

Stephen Fry (the elder statesman and national treasure with "a sticky memory"), Jonathan Ross (sporting, of course, a bewildering array of daft outfits), horsey Clare Balding (from Kingsclere, near where I grew up), Celia Imrie (openly snooping, sometimes looking like a naughty little schoolboy and, on one occassion, loudly farting), Tom Daley (the male eye candy of the show, he's the one they show in the shower), and Charlotte Church who wears lots of nice outfits and is always unfailingly nice even if her 'girls' (her words, not mine) can be a distraction.

 

There's sweaty, but adorable, Alan Carr, loud Kate Garraway, rugby player Joe Marler (good natured, physically strong, and pretty smart to boot), kooky Paloma Faith, Mark Bonnar (who seems not unlike some of the characters I've seen him play), deadpan Joe Wilkinson, Lucy Beaumont (lovely Hull accent), clever Nick Mohammed, Cat Burns (who seems nice but doesn't know who either Judi Dench or Helen Mirren is), quiet David Olusoga, and three I'd not heard of. Tameka Empson (not the outdoor type) is in Eastenders which I don't watch, actress Ruth Codd ("don't piss in my ear and tell me it's raining"), and YouTuber Niko Omilana.

 

To a soundtrack of The Cranberries (Zombie), Nina Simone, Amy Winehouse, Soul II Soul, The Verve, Carl Orff's O Fortuna, and Siouxsie's version of Iggy Pop's The Passenger (as well, of course, as the standard level spooky background music) the contestants are tasked with digging their own graves, visiting haunted cabins in the woods, dealing with wailing banshees, some nonsense with a Trojan horse, and, in Joe Marler's words, meeting "gold faced cloak people".

Most of this, however, is mere prelude to the best bit of the entire show. The round table. That's the bit everyone looks forward to and it's comforting to discover that celebrities are just as bad at spelling each other's names as us civilians. Some of them follow the herd, some of them seem to change their minds on a whim, and some of them simply accuse anyone who has the gall to accuse them first.

It doesn't yield fantastic results to begin with. There seems to be something in Joe Marler's "big dog theory" and surely when one contestant forgets they'd won a shield that will see them banished? Or maybe not? As Claudia Winkelman and the peacocks and deer wander around looking glamorous, our faithfuls and traitors seem utterly clueless as they go round and round in circles and the clock ticks down.

The ratings, of course, go gangbusters and I find myself so eager for more I tune in to Uncloaked with Ed Gamble straight after each episode (no celebrity guests, just previous civilian traitors), as well as listening to every Rest of Entertainment podcast with Marina Hyde and Richard Osman about it. I'm not telling you how it all panned out (though you'll almost certainly know by now) except to say the final episode is brilliant and dramatic. The celebrities will be lining up for next year's game already. I don't blame them.