Colditz - Series 1: A Review

COLDITZ: SERIES 1

“Where the hell is Colditz?!” Pat Grant, Episode 1.

For a series set in Colditz Castle you might imagine that there is limited scope for the stories that you can tell about prisoners trying to escape. You might, but you’d be wrong. The first series of Colditz (1972-73) is a triumph of writing, casting, direction, design and everything else you can think of, and has taken it's place proudly in my top 10 drama series.

The opening trio of episodes each follow a single character in their journey up to being sent to Colditz. Edward Hardwicke, David McCallum and Christopher Neame carry this solo stories off with aplomb, and are throughout excellent centrepieces of what becomes a fantastic ensemble piece, including the excellent Robert Wagner as an American, Phil Carrington, who was captured while serving in the British RAF. Guest spots throughout give great little characters, including a Padre (played by Patrick Troughton) who gets involved in a Polish plan to hang one of their officers for betrayal.

The deep level of characterisation is not limited to the British characters - the two main German characters are given equal depth and humanity. Yes, Hans Meyers’ Ullmann is there to be a hard-bitten German who stamps down hard on any misbehaviour, but he is never cruel; while Bernard Heptons’ Kommandant has great depth - a Wehrmacht Officer, although a loyal German he has no love at all for the Gestapo, the occasional appearance of whom ups the stakes for both him and the prisoners. In spite of the camp he is running humanity is at his core, most notably when passing on bad news to prisoners.

The Polish and the French also get good treatment when required - first when escape attempts are continually foiled and a Polish soldier, played by Ronald Lacey, is outed as the mole; second when a French escape attempt evolves to involve a British officer (Prentis Hancock). Given the nature of the series, this particular episode sees one of the most brutal scenes, in which Hancock is gunned down while trying to escape through barbed wire - which also gives rise to a painful scene where the Kommandant berates Colonel Preston (Jack Hedley) for the attempt. Preston simply remains silent.

Perhaps a special word should go to the compelling but brutal Episode 10, the award winning ‘Tweedledum’ in which Commander Marsh (Michael Bryant) wishes to escape by faking a mental breakdown, which would allow him to repatriated. Thus for most of the episode Bryant does not speak, and appears to slowly descend into madness under the watchful eye of a German Officer told to observe him to see if the condition is real. It is tough watching, as Marsh does appear to be keeping up the act of mental breakdown for months on end without being caught out, as occasional winks to the British Doctor (Geoffrey Palmer) would seem to attest. Finally, after many many months the plan is a success and he is sent back to England. However, the delight of the success is soon tempered by a letter from Marsh’s wife. This scene would drive even the hardest of men to tears, as we discover that after all that he ended up committed to a mental home. A compelling story, carried entirely by the acting of Michael Bryant.

The first series concludes with a mesmerising two parter, in which four of the regulars attempt to escape in what they feel is their best chance yet. The first part follows the setting up of the escape plan and ends on a expertly directed cliffhanger as the German Officer breaks his routine and turns after 10 steps instead of 17. The final episode, which sees them outside of the castle and attempting to reach the Swiss border, principally follows Grant (Hardwicke) and Carrington (Wagner) sees the tension ratcheted up to a high level where it stays throughout, and when Hardwicke collapses into the snow at the feet of an armed officer at the end, you feel like collapsing with him.

With such a fascinating subject matter portrayed very thoughtfully by great writing, and brought to life by classy actors, there is only one word to describe this most wonderful, thought provoking of series:

Majestic.

DOCTOR WHO LIVE: REVIEW

DOCTOR WHO LIVE: A REVIEW (****NB. THIS REVIEW CONTAINS VAGUE SPOILERS****)

Lots of excitable children running around in Cyber masks: Check. Men of a certain age sporting Begonia Pope inspired scarves: Check. An exact double of Moss from The IT Crowd: Check. This could only be Doctor Who Live. An unfortunate aside could be - Only three quarters of the seats taken due to rather extortionate ticket prices: Check. Cynical Reviewers: Check. (Though not here.)

Half plot, half an excuse to show off the music and monsters that are such a part of Doctor Who, this extravaganza was hosted by Vorgenson (a particularly hammy Nigel Planer) who, as it turned out, was the son of the Lurman Vorg who featured in the 1973 Third Doctor Adventure Carnival of Monsters. Now there’s continuity for you. He was in control of a glove that controlled a Minimiser, a direct descendant of the Miniscope owned by his father. Or is it? Brought out to a slowly waking up audience, first the Scarecrows and then the Judoon make their way through the crowd, resulting in some amusing footage on the big screen of young children looking genuinely terrified. Those further away from the action jumped up and down in excitement. Accompanying all of this is an orchestra conducted by an energetic Ben Foster and really here you find the star of the show, certainly in the first half - the music. Murray Gold’s scores have suffered some criticism for overpowering the drama but here, as at the Proms, it comes into its element; toe tapping over exuberance the result. The newest theme tune, the one that everyone sat baffled at on Easter weekend, was magnificent. At this point it is very much a greatest hits evening.

Plot wise, things start developing when Vorgenson traps Winston Churchill (a splendid Nick Briggs, giving a wonderfully nuanced brief performance, a welcome contrast from the parading and flouncing of Vorgenson) which introduces the Doctor to proceedings, courtesy of an amusing moment in which Churchill borrows a mobile phone from a cameraman. The Doctor works out what is going on, and off we go on 10 minutes of actual drama - including an excellent segment with the Weeping Angels wiping out four policemen led by Nick Briggs - which ends with a cliffhanger and the Doctor trapped.

The second half follows a similar pattern as the robots from The Girl In The Fireplace, the Smilers from The Beast Below and the Cybermen march around between the seats, while the Doctor disappears within his prison. In the programme there is no mention of the Daleks appearing, but of course they do, and as the Doctor reveals that there is someone behind Vorgensons’ plan, who else could it be, and as the lights start to flash and the music rises to a crescendo, a red Dalek appears, and somewhere a ring modulator springs into action as Nick Briggs clears his throat. This was genuinely brilliant. Naturally the Doctor triumphs as the Daleks and Cybermen battle and all end up back in the miniscope. At this point though there was a brilliant twist, as a White Dalek appeared - twenty feet in the air!! The initial shock of this caused the children near me to gasp. In fact the Dalek was positioned at the end of a crane-type device. Matt Smith’s performance on camera really added to the zest of the evening, as he performed all the ticks and quirks that are already so expected from his Doctor.

There was a lot of nothing in this, and anyone expecting a twisty-turney timey-wimey kind of plot will be disappointed. What you get is an unashamed celebration of all things Doctor Who, including a montage of all the regenerations of the shows 47 year history. Very interestingly, a huge roar of affection went up from all the children in the audience as David Tennant appeared from the fire within the TARDIS as the Tenth Doctor replaced the Ninth. We should never forget what he did for the continuing success of Doctor Who. More pantomime than dramatic theatre, it’s very hard to be cynical about this, and should be viewed as a great celebration of this great TV series. And a great way to make the BBC an awful lot of money in merchandise sales. See, there’s always space for some cynicism.

TV Review: The Sweeney

The Sweeney: The Placer

‘Haskins is doing for The Sweeney what the Boston Strangler did for door-to-door salesmen.’ This only half sums up the put-upon, pressured Chief Inspector Haskins, so wonderfully played in The Sweeney by the late Garfield Morgan. http://www.independent.co.uk/news/obituaries/garfield-morgan-actor-best-known-for-playing-jack-regans-boss-in-the-sweeney-1852849.html This episode, the sixth of the opening series, sees him at his best, beginning frustrated with Jack Regan’s methods, eventually joining in – his delivery of a line as he finally decides to deliberately miss a meeting to give Regan more time is perfectly timed for comic effect. Soon after this he is found playing golf, stalking the main villain of the piece around the course, again to much amusement. A great example of a great actor.

The story itself sees Regan (John Thaw) posing undercover as a truck driver, attempting to uncover a series of raids on the vehicles and their cargo. Sporting a rugged moustache, Thaw is tremendous as a double agent, switching effortlessly from undercover to cop when in the presence of George Carter (Dennis Waterman). As often in The Sweeney, this episode concludes when you feel there could be more story to tell but the end is perfect; Jack, surveying the fallen bodies of his targets, sighs ‘Jack Regan – this is your life.’ And it is a life where the target often ends up dead instead of captured. An ultimately frustrating existence.

As usual, the incidental music underscores the story perfectly, and the direction by Ted Childs is high class – using camera moves rather than cuts to add to the pace. The Sweeney’s three-act structure, necessitated by being produced by ITV, helps where often it hinders, with two crescendos after 17 and 34 minutes keeping the viewer interested, while the ending, as here, is often relatively downbeat after all the action and comedy – for there is a lot of humour in The Sweeney – of the preceeding 50 minutes. As TV drama goes, it doesn’t get much better than this.