Tone is a vital ingredient of a TV show but one of the hardest to define. And as far as tonal tightropes go, adapting a Jilly Cooper “bonkbuster” for a modern audience is one of the great high-wire writing acts of recent times.
Turning a TV franchise tussle into a gripping battle of fragile (male) egos, Rivals is both a riotous celebration of the 1980s and a depiction of disturbingly backwards sexual politics.
It taps into our tribalism and elicits the knee-jerk reactions and extreme opinions that are catnip for the algorithms. How else can we explain the rise of Arsenal Fan TV?
After sensitively tackling the crisis of masculinity in How to Be a Man, Rylan is now asking his guests How to Be in the Spotlight. And despite our exposure to a lot of very public breakdowns, including Rylan’s own, it can be hard to empathise when the spotlight also brings with it such enviable perks: his first guest, the actor Daisy May Cooper, boasts: “You can get your Sofology delivery within a week when you normally wait 13 weeks.”
As if on cue, as I write this, Prime Minister Rishi Sunak is launching the Conservative manifesto, and he has just pledged to “halve migration as we have halved inflation”. And all the big parties in the general election are busy advocating their own policies to “stop the boats”.
How timely it is, then, to have a podcast air on BBC Sounds that so rigorously and compellingly dissects the smuggling trade.
Perhaps it’s all the scientific and tactical progress that is stifling their self-expression, as irascible managers reduce them to mere cogs in their ruthlessly demanding, “high pressing” machines.
Or the fact that they are having to surrender their personal lives to relentless fixture lists while their very personalities are sanitised by “media training”.
And woe betide anyone who does a Marcus Rashford and pulls a single sickie after a boozy night out.
In part, it was the sheer novelty of it all, communicating with anyone from anywhere at any time, plus the visceral excitement of all the dings, window-shaking “nudges” and gaudy emoticons. Perhaps most importantly, though, it could all take place away from my parents’ prying ears.
Bar an embarrassing rejection that I’d rather not go into, I emerged from the days of MSN relatively unscathed. Relative, that is, to some of the horror stories in Helen Lewis’s new podcast on the rise of instant messaging, Helen Lewis Has Left the Chat.
Especially in the politics genre, where the likes of Alastair Campbell and Rory Stewart’s The Rest Is Politics and George Osbourne and Ed Balls’ Political Currency continue to hold office.
She wasn’t exaggerating. The same profile noted that, of the 14,488 messages marked for review by the BBC’s online abuse monitoring system (between 1 January and late June in 2023), 11,771 were directed at the broadcaster’s Disinformation and Social Media Correspondent.
It’s a tragic irony of the job that, by investigating cases of online hate you inevitably become the victim of one. And yet Spring refuses to back down from this new virtual front line, ie, her inbox.
As Sally Wainwright’s masterful Yorkshire noir approaches the end of its third and final series – and Sarah Lancashire’s heroic Sergeant Catherine Cawood her long overdue retirement – it’s worth savouring every episode.
Obsessed with... Happy Valley is the BBC’s companion podcast, in which comedians Amy Gledhill and Isy Suttie discuss the drama episode by episode. From the start, Wainwright begins to weave several narrative strands, so there is plenty to pore over.
In a welcome shake-up of the celebrity-on-celebrity interview format, each episode sees Burke invite a famous friend to bring their best gallows banter and fantasise about their deaths.
She has described it as her “fantasy football” version of death and funeral planning. The likes of James Acaster, Jamali Maddix and Stewart Lee are on the line-up. But the draw is undoubtedly Burke herself, and it’s as sweary and smutty a podcast as you could hope for from her.
