Aisling Bea's recent sitcom This Way Up (Channel 4) probably had more sadness in it than it did laughter but, as with Tim Crouch and Toby Jones's recent Don't Forget the Driver, that didn't affect my enjoyment of it at all. I had to readjust my expectations following the first episode but as the next five instalments developed I found myself getting quite emotionally invested in this tale of loneliness, depression, suicide attempts, 'fucked' brains, and medication.
Which makes it sound far grimmer than it actually was. Being set in London there were obviously on point jokes about sourdough bread, ketamine, and smoothies as well as meditations on how hard it can to be find love in the heart of the city. All linked together with snatches of dance music that was too modern for me to even recognise. I had to look it up. Fuse ODG, Bebe Rexha, DJ Snake, and J Balvin anyone?
Bea plays Aine, a teacher trying to sort her life out following a spell in rehab. A spell she seems to have been able to cope with by pretending the facility was actually a spa and complaining, somewhat ungraciously, that it lacked a jacuzzi and didn't have Kit Kats in the minibar. We jump forward four months and she's in charge of a TEFL class and telling her adult students about the Kardashians and joking that if they don't pay attention she'll Brexit the lot of 'em.
The politically uncertain times we live in are the background to the drama but not the main point of it. That's the story of Aine, her love/hate relationship with her sister Shona (Sharon Horgan - with Bea an executive producer), and the two sisters own personal affairs. Aine has recently split up with the charming shit Freddie (Chris Geere) and Shona is in a long term relationship with Vish (Aasif Mandvi).
Further complications for Aine come in the form of Tom (Ricky Grover) who Aine met in rehab and who visits her at home and refuses to have sex with her (which must take some extraordinary will power, Aisling Bea is not an unattractive woman) before keeping her awake snoring. There's also serious, formal, awkward, nervous, and very probably depressed himself Richard (Tobias Menzies) who has employed Aine to teach his French son, Etienne (Dorian Grover) English but, despite Aine's flakiness, can't resist a lingering stare from time to time.
Shona's life is less chaotic but still anything but straightforward. Vish's lovely, and loving, family would like her to have kids with their son but Shona's not so into that and is, in fact, more focused on starting a business with her new friend Charlotte (Indira Varma). There's both a softness and tension between Shona and Charlotte that suggests latent desires. Perhaps Shona just prefers women. Or at least Charlotte.
Aine builds a rapport with Etienne that warms her to Richard and he to her, Shona and Charlotte get closer, Aine goes on what she thinks is a date with dopey David (Tom Bell) who drinks a pint through a straw, and, all the time, we see Aine using laughter and distraction as tools to hide from, and cover up, her anxiety and depression.
Brief shots of Aine crying in kitchens and staring into space in coffee shops make her still unresolved mental health issues blatantly obvious. With this and the political backdrop (touching on how racist attacks have increased since the Brexit vote) you'd be mistaken for expecting this would be a dour, earnest watch. But it's not that at all.
It's touching, it's sad, and, sometimes it's even funny. There's a misunderstanding as to whether or not it was brick or a prick that hit Bulgarian builder Victor (Todor Jordanov), there's a chortlesome line about making an 'Irish name mistake', and, on arriving at a conference in the city, Shona remarks "I can smell the Lynx Africa already". As Aine waits in a bar for ex Freddie, she remarks she's on a date, and gets the reply "With yourself? That's powerful".
There's a great cameo from Sorcha Cusack as Aine and Shona's mum Eileen. Eileen used to present the weather on Irish TV and her USP was wearing a different hat each day, she poses with a huge inflatable cock, claims she could have worked in Bollywood and that she'd auditioned for My Left Foot, and gets into an amusing argument with Aine about the name of Roald Dahl books.
Credit too should go to Kadiff Kirwan as Aine's flatmate Bradley and Danielle Vitalis as his sister Poppy. A night out clubbing with Bradley and Poppy reminded me of my younger days (before my social life mainly consisted of going on long walks, watching TV, and writing blogs) and there were other scenes that made me nostalgic for a mostly misspent, and ludicrously elongated, youth.
I'd not want to return to a time of walks of shame, turning up at work with absolutely stinking hangovers, and altercations in front of, and sometimes with, taxi drivers but it's brilliant how realistically these scenes have been recreated by Bea and her team. I was unsure why there were quite so many shots of the admittedly photogenic Shad Thames but the scene where Aine and Shona don party hats and sing Zombie and Proud Mary in front of Vish's admiring, and now squiffy, family couldn't fail to melt the heart - and a melting heart was the thing I took away from This Way Up.
There were a couple of neat twists towards the end, there was sadness as some of the key protagonist's plans and lives came crashing down around them, and there was a feeling of despair as we saw people not so unlike ourselves fail in securing the connections and certainties they so deeply desired.
But, even in its darkest moment, This Way Up always remembered that in hope and in friendship we have something worth fighting for. The friendship between Aine and Shona was the key relationship in this series and that friendship was, like This Way Up itself, lovely, touching, and full of hilarious lines. Friendships, relationships, like these can be so powerful they can pull us through, and out of, the bad times. I hope so at least. I really hope so.
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