Earlier this week, our Graham posted a heartfelt blog about the malaise that seems to have befallen not only him but a few of us here at Blog Towers. It can happen when there is nothing startlingly noteworthy to comment on. Something needed to happen to shake the communal apathy. Maybe last night it did.
To be fair, I've only watched the first of the Friday night episodes (last night in Canada). One was enough. By eight p.m. I had no idea if I had been watching a drama or a comedy. For me, the whole twenty-odd minutes were a bit of a mess.
The dominant storyline was the plodding, never-ending tale of Andrea and her men. Now, I know it's become fashionable to shriek with derision every time the poor woman enters stage left but for some reason I like her. Beneath that gurning exterior lies a decent Corrie character waiting to emerge. it's taking some time though. You get the impression that whatever the plot, the poor actress is implored to smile like Doris Day throughout. Picture the scene as Andrea is told that her entire family has been run over by a plot device but the producer urges her to turn that frown upside down "because it's how Andrea would cope with it . . . we'd decided". Give it a few weeks and they will have her dressed in a clown's outfit guffawing at funerals.
Back to last night's 'drama' though. The scene was set. Gurning Andrea, the dreadfully dull husband, permanently crisis-stricken Lloyd. There they were, cavorting around on the cobbles, up and down ladders and stranded on roof tops. Somehow the whole thing felt horribly laboured and like an outtake from an unloved Carry On film.
Maybe it was just me having a grotty half hour but the feeling that the episode was sub-standard persists. Episode two is waiting for me on the Sky box so later I will tune in to see if Andrea crashes to Mother Earth. With a grin.
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