Brookside Brookside

[Mel O'Drama]

Episodes 446 - 460
3 February - 24 March 1987
continued​

Paul’s schadenfreude over “Damon’s” potential criminal record is one in a series of similar ironies in this run. When Lucky is killed in a hit and run, empirical evidence suggests to him the culprit is Pat, leading to accusations and Paul reporting Pat and Terry to the DHSS for earning income from the van whilst claiming benefits. Much time has been spent with Paul seething about their dishonesty and lack of moral values in not owning up to the accident. And all the time we know Gordon is the real culprit, having stolen a car for a drunken joyride with Christopher.

This means Brookie’s representation of “everyday crime” is brought out into the open. It’s fascinating that even Magistrate Annabelle condemns Paul’s reporting of the crime more heartily than she does Pat and Terry committing it. And this is before she knows that they didn’t kill Lucky. It’s perhaps a sign of the desperate times that it feels Paul has crossed a line, but then it’s all perfectly in harmony with the ethos of keeping things in house and having loyalty. Just as Sheila defended her family for someone speaking out and getting involved in their business, so do the neighbours, one by one judge Paul for his indiscretion.

I’m torn with Gordon at the moment. OldGordon was often ineffectual, but it’s hugely frustrating to watch adult Gordon sit quietly by while seeing what Paul is about to do. It’s plain he’s guilty and furious that Christopher is far more blasé about their night of crime. There’s even an element of the writing that justifies the car theft since they were escaping from gay bashers. But it’s hard to really get a handle on what’s really holding him back. I don’t know if it’s writing, performance, or just that the story hasn’t clicked with me for some other reason. I don’t know… perhaps it’s meant to be frustrating.

Meanwhile, in the same episode Damon vented his feelings at Sheila (courtesy of Frank Cottrell Boyce) Annabelle has packed her case to leave for Kendal:

​

Watching this scene, I found myself thinking back to a scene in the same living room some two-and-a-half years earlier when Annabelle made a heartfelt speech to Paul about her reasons for wanting to make the best of where they now live. Even then, she’d acknowledged that they didn’t fit in, but there was a sense that she wanted to play the hand they’d been dealt. Now, a relatively short time later and what’s become intolerable enough for her to feel OK about leaving comes not from the surrounding homes but from within her own. Perhaps most telling of her exasperation is there’s little sense of keeping up appearances with the neighbours. She makes plain to Pat that she doesn’t agree with what Paul did.

Not all interference has been for the worst. Harry and Julia’s keen eyes and noses helped expose Madge as a confidence trickster. Harry’s teasing before he had his proof was enjoyable, with quip upon quip about her many birthdays (and one point, he reached over during a meal and began to tinkle Happy Birthday To You on the ivories). Although Madge has been in the series for quite a while at this point, it’s been more off than on and, certainly after her return, things moved swiftly and surely to the end point. It’s another example of a more instant kind of gratification and in some ways a more standard and comfortable soapy pace. But it doesn’t seem any worse for it.

It’s occurred to me that it’s also in harmony with Harry himself who doesn’t seem able to play the long game. As soon as he has an inkling, he has to tell someone. Just as he did with Sheila over that bit of tattle, so he did with Ralph regarding Madge. This gave Madge the chance to begin covering her tracks with yet another elaborate and heartbreaking story about her two-birthdays.

There are mixed feelings over Harry finally exposing her so easily, and Madge confessing almost immediately. This easy solution feels so far removed from the series’ roots. This whole thing would have played out very differently indeed three years ago. Perhaps even two. Still, it’s certainly gratifying - fun even - and makes for vintage Brookie. I’ve managed to ride out the less-than-scintillating storm of Ralph threatening to leave (again), but the real loss in the storyline was Madge’s necessary departure since Shirley Stelfox is always a gem.

There’s a more welcome departure as Mick and Mike screech away in a cloud of smoke, burning rubber and general chaos. On reflection I give the writers credit for attempting something different in this household. Their stint was kind of hellish, but I feel a great deal of that was deliberate, and I confess I found myself watching the card games where Terry feigned ignorance to win back their rent money with something that could almost be mistaken for investment. Quite a feat with these three, plus Pat petulantly “awwww?”ing away. And in their latter days, Mike made a sleazy play for Doreen while Mick managed to set fire to Number Seven.

Now they’re gone, somehow the prospect of whispery Vicki moving in doesn’t seem half so bad. It’s all relative, I suppose.

The Corkhills have been lowering the tone wonderfully. With Doreen paying a visit to Billy for lots of location work of stately Milton Keynes, Julia imposed herself on Rod and Tracy, almost scuppering their plans for romance with their partners. Tracy’s new lad is Jamie who I remember well as a presence in the series for some time. Seeing him arrive this time, it’s struck me how much he comes across as a younger version of Billy: direct and cheeky, with enough colour in his life to scarper upon learning of Rod’s profession. So far, so good. He’s reinforcing Tracy’s rebellious streak and in addition to speaking back to her Nan she’s added drunk and disorderly to her repertoire, smashing the glass in the front door on her return from a night out… to Julia’s horror.

In true Corkhill fashion, Billy’s hopes for a permanent job in the area and a new start for the family down South have come to nothing and he’s now back on the dole. I found the scene of him on the sofa with Doreen, defeated but quietly accepting, to be quite sweet.

Somewhere along the way, Paul and Annabelle sent on a few bits and bobs to Heather, with the rest being sold off in a house clearance with some very pushy bargain hunters. I thought it a lovely touch, and a good way to re-use some familiar props. Terry’s bagged Heather’s old bed (Habitat, no doubt). But will it be luckier for him?

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Episodes 461 - 480
30 March - 2 June 1987​

Jimmy McGovern began this run of episodes with strength as Sheila and Bobby’s marriage became ever more fraught and combative, extending to the wider household as Damon screamed at Bobby that they were both “doin’ my ‘ead in”.

Some nice work with the Corkhills went along with this as Tracey quit her hairdressing job, giving everyone a mouthful, and Jimmy proposed a fraudulent insurance scam. Plus some nice business with Jimmy’s surefire winner who actually came in… to Billy’s dismay (I enjoyed how Doreen flipped from looking at Jimmy with disdain when the subject came up, to low-level criticism of Billy for not taking the risk once she knew it was a winner).

But in amongst this came two long episodes of The Banner… a sign put up by smugger-than-ever Pat to announce to the world that Paul is a spy for the DHSS. Much was made of Paul trying to get the banner taken down. When refused by Pat and later Terry, Paul approached Damon (who he saw helping Pat put it up) and even rebuked the Corkhills for not helping. But while Pat and Terry gained the upper hand because the banner was on “their” house, the elephant in the room was Harry Cross shaped… because not once was the idea of speaking to their neighbouring landlord mooted. I find it very difficult to believe that he would be oblivious to this for a minute, much less two whole episodes, so whole thing smacked of convenience and drew attention to Bill Dean’s absence.

Many of these episodes were characterised by the themes of conflict in the middle of the Close and in-house fighting going public, as disagreements have escalated into loud arguments.

There were a number of noisy consecutive episodes in which every scene seemed to have either aggressive shouting or loud drilling. The latter came from the huge fissure which cut its way from one side of the Close to the other, virtually turning the cul-de-sac into an island and simultaneously creating the Black Hole Of Brookside. The former seemed to have two thirds of the residents involved.

A great deal of the shouting has come from Terry and Pat’s disagreements over whispery Vicki moving in (very briefly, before leaving for good. And who can blame her) and Pat getting involved in the repossession business and attempting to rope in Terry (the financial benefits of which dialled Pat’s usual smugness up into the red zone, and caused his rictus grin to reach alarming widths). Now it's all over, Pat is heavily involved in another wannabe pop star arc. September cannot come quickly enough.

Billy has been shouting up a storm at the neighbours over his front lawn being torn up as everyone has driven over it to get round the gaping hole. Nobody’s been safe (he even gave Annabel Collins a mouthful) but the situation has ultimately become a symbol and an extension of his feelings of impotent powerlessness caused by the desperate financial situation at home. Taking up Jimmy’s offer cost more than he’d anticipated when Jimmy also vandalised the house and decided to hit the Collinses as well (this sequence felt a bit too truthful… I found myself feeling some anger at Jimmy’s enjoyment of the wanton destruction of property).

Billy’s conscience has been troubling him because of Doreen’s anxiety over the home intrusion, and her sadness at losing some of the possessions they’d worked for. Upon returning home from Rod’s passing out parade, Billy’s reaction to the burglary was the angriest, because he hadn’t expected Jimmy to go so far.

Despite everything, this run has proved that Billy is really a decent man. He took great risks in buying back Annabel’s beloved brooch from a pawnbroker and planting it down a cushion in their armchair. Even his outlet of indignant anger at the neighbours lack of respect has backfired and been undermined. Case in point, his furiously throwing the bin bags dumped on his lawn down the hole, only to find out moments later that it was Sheila’s jumble collection which she’d momentarily placed there. He did the right thing and dutifully retrieved them with a weary apology. There’s a terrific little scene where Billy witnesses Bobby driving over his front lawn and angrily pursues him across the Close to give him a piece of his mind. As he tries to get the words out, Bobby cheerfully says hello and casually apologises for having to use his garden as a thoroughfare. Losing face quickly, Billy ends up offering to help with the jumble collection. It perfectly captures a sense of frustrated defeat that can come when a much-needed communication is denied.

It all makes Billy’s ultimate expression of his contempt for his neighbours (which is still to come) all the more organic. He hasn’t even found out about Doreen’s boss’s “loan in exchange for favours” offer yet.

Even the Collinses got involved in the raised voices, with Annabel shouting at Paul. In public, if you please. Granted, her mother had just fallen down the black hole outside, but it still seems standards are slipping.

And into the whole chaotic situation come the Gordon-Davieses (well, technically at this point, one Gordon-Davies and several Wrights). Resembling Hughs Laurie and Grant, Jonathan is pretty much exactly as I remember him. Laura is a bit of a surprise. She’s much younger than I remember, and not as classy (I’m now thinking I might have amalgamated her with Heather in my mind as the years have passed). Sadly, my first impression isn’t as favourable as I’d hoped. Jane Cunliffe’s delivery is rather rapid and monotone, as though she knows the lines but isn’t particularly concerned with their meaning. I suppose it's kind of standard for some of Brookie's more recent casting additions . On the plus side, there are flashes of promise, and I’m hopeful it could improve as they are broken into the series a little more.

Given the comments in the Soap Box book, I have been looking closely for any sign that the two actors aren't getting along, or that Jane is unhappy. So far, there are none. Either I should take trashy book gossip with a pinch of salt, or Jane's a better actress than I'm giving her credit for.

While I remember the characters, I probably can only remember a couple of specific scenes from their time on the series. One is a flash of Jonathan waiting for Laura in a city centre (which I hesitantly admit I only remember because there was a poster for Jaws The Revenge in the background). The other is that Laura’s encounter with the light switch. Beyond that, it’s even more fragmented, other than Canadians and the household ending up a part of Terry’s musical homes syndrome.

We’ve met Laura’s parents and sister. Sister Joanne feels like a Nick’s stroppy daughter redux… an unwelcome house guest who won’t go away. She’s kind of annoying, but none of it really seems to matter. Joanna’s biggest crime to date has been taking place in a lengthy musical montage in which she tried on Laura’s clothes once she had the house to herself. It’s arguably the most glaring example of pointless filler seen to date on the series. Adding insult to injury, it’s not even the most creative these episodes got… that accolade goes to a scene of Harry, Ralph and Paul leaning over the hole, shot almost entirely from the perspective of their reflections in the muddy water below (a shoo-in for James’s Soapy Reflections thread).

On the subject of the hole, I’m very impressed by the production values of this. Digging a massive hole in a real street on 1980s telly can’t have been cheap. Then we actually have characters climbing (or falling) into it. No matter how much precaution and risk assessment took place, it does look like a health and safety nightmare.

My God, did Sheila and Bobby earn that holiday to Rome. Even knowing the outcome, I found myself feeling a kind of anxiety by the suspense created as things were pushed to their limit with that ticket getting ripped up, momentarily putting the kibosh on Sheila’s trip.

At this point, Brookie’s had a number of holidays and away trips. The Rome trip is a contender for the most impressive, not just for its wonderful scenery (beautifully shot, including a couple of long shots which appear to have been shot very early in the day to get a sumptuous, hazy look) and big name guest-star (I mean… The Pope! Not even Dynasty could pull that one off), but for its investment in continuing an important story. Never before has it felt that more hinged on a trip, and this one has had some real swings and roundabouts.

In situations like this, I always find myself wondering what locals made of the camera crews filming this English couple bickering and disagreeing. Did it put Brookie on the map in Italy, perhaps? Well, probably not, but it’s nice to think it might have done.

 

[James from London]

Damon screamed at Bobby that they were both “doin’ my ‘ead in”.

Damon's angry frustration in that scene was really moving. Even after all this time, we're still seeing new sides to him. It's so interesting how his relationship with his parents has shifted over the last year or so. Without Barry and Karen to either hide behind or be scapegoated by, he's started asserting himself in a way he never has before -- and what's kind of impressive is both Bobby and Sheila seem to respect him for it. There have been several scenes where he finds himself caught between them where he's the one who get the last word. But of. course all that changes when Debbie's dad turns up.

Debbie's dad, Laura's dad, Doreen's boss: three seemingly inconsequential and/or unimpressive figures who arrive onscreen in quick succession and without much fanfare, but who will each play a pivotal role in eliminating a key character from one of three of Brookside's five households before the year is out. Equally portentous in hindsight: the first interaction between the equally ill-fated Laura and Damon -- a friendly wave through the window while she is decorating and he's having a kick-about in the close -- as the Ghost of Brookside Future, Jimmy Corkhill, sneaks past unobserved on his way rob the Collinses' camcorder.



And I must now eat my words re the pointlessness of said camcorder when it was first introduced, as its theft serves to widen Billy's insurance scam storyline to include the Collinses as well, thereby bringing it more in line with Arthur Fowler's stealing of the Christmas Club money on Enders the previous year -- a similarly motivated crime (desperation borne of unemployment) which also included the fake burglary of his own home, but with a more immediate impact on his neighbours, as it was their money he was nicking in the first place.

There's nothing to actively dislike about Annabelle's mother so I've been trying to put my finger on why I don't feel all that engaged by her storyline. I think, in common with pretty much everything involving the Collins family since Paul's enforced retirement, there's something quite broad about it. Everything is played on the surface, almost like a sitcom. That's not to say the actors are playing it for laughs -- apart from the blandly dead-eyed Gordon, they're all very good -- but there's no real subtext: everyone is saying pretty much what they're thinking; it doesn't feel like there's anything going on beneath the surface as there does in the Grant or Corkhill houses. This doesn't make the Collins' scenes actively bad, but neither are they actively compelling. The same could be said for Harry and Ralph's.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

It's so interesting how his relationship with his parents has shifted over the last year or so. Without Barry and Karen to either hide behind or be scapegoated by, he's started asserting himself in a way he never has before -- and what's kind of impressive is both Bobby and Sheila seem to respect him for it.

He's been through a lot since leaving school. For me it feels as though his time in Torquay was what really shifted things when it came to his role in the household. Not only did he return to the Close more assertive and outspoken, he seemed more tuned into the way of the world. I suppose living away from the family for the first time will do that. Things are never going to be the same upon returning. "You can't go home again" springs to mind.

Debbie's dad, Laura's dad, Doreen's boss: three seemingly inconsequential and/or unimpressive figures who arrive onscreen in quick succession and without much fanfare, but who will each play a pivotal role in eliminating a key character from one of three of Brookside's five households before the year is out. Equally portentous in hindsight: the first interaction between the equally ill-fated Laura and Damon -- a friendly wave through the window while she is decorating and he's having a kick-about in the close

Funny thing is that I'm conscious in most scenes that all three characters are time-limited, but that exchange between Laura and Damon didn't register with me on that level as I watched. I'm glad you pointed that out as it's added another layer.

And I must now eat my words re the pointlessness of said camcorder when it was first introduced, as its theft serves to widen Billy's insurance scam storyline to include the Collinses as well, thereby bringing it more in line with Arthur Fowler's stealing of the Christmas Club money on Enders the previous year

For a story that initially seemed so frivolous, they certainly got their money's worth out of that camcorder. First Paul using it to try and obtain evidence of Pat and Terry's benefit fraud, then Jimmy stealing it.

Incidentally, I enjoyed the way Paul's approach to filling out the insurance form - dishonestly adding on items such as a home computer and portable television, as Annabelle watched him aghast - was rather Corkhillesque.

There's nothing to actively dislike about Annabelle's mother so I've been trying to put my finger on why I don't feel all that engaged by her storyline. I think, in common with pretty much everything involving the Collins family since Paul's enforced retirement, there's something quite broad about it. Everything is played on the surface, almost like a sitcom. That's not to say the actors are playing it for laughs -- apart from the blandly dead-eyed Gordon, they're all very good -- but there's no real subtext: everyone is saying pretty much what they're thinking; it doesn't feel like there's anything going on beneath the surface as there does in the Grant or Corkhill houses. This doesn't make the Collins' scenes actively bad, but neither are they actively compelling.

Yes, I can completely understand this. I find many of the scenes enjoyable enough when taken for what they are, but they do feel somewhat disposable.

For me, it helps that I find Jim Wiggins very watchable, and this extends to the more comedic niche into which the character seems to have fallen post-retirement. His quibbles with Mona are entertaining enough for me to not feel I'm wasting my time as I do with their neighbours at Number Seven.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Episodes 481 - 510
8 June - 15 September 1987
​

This run of episodes has established the presence of the Wright-Gordon-Davieses, with the on/off/postponed dramas leading to the nuptials meaning they’ve been given enough screen-time for us to get an idea of who they are.

In theory, at least.

Much of the information comes materially, with the imagery and props appearing jn Number Nine clueing us in to the upwardly mobile nature of the household. Exposed brickwork in the dining area. Tick. Cork tile kitchen floor. Tick. Kellogg’s Country Store prominently displayed on the table at breakfast. And the Jonelle wallpaper Damon is tasked with hanging (this is perhaps the most telling. They’re posh enough to shop at John Lewis’s, which was kind of a big deal in the Eighties, but they’re still buying Lewis’s own brand, so there are a few rungs to climb before they enter the “posh house on the Wirral” set).

Status symbols aside, though, the news is a little more mixed with this couple. It feels Steven Pinner has quickly carved out his little place on the series. The stories aren’t the most riveting, but I believe him as a character, and I believe his responses. Jonathan’s been just removed enough from most of the neighbours to keep things feeling too safe, while interacting well with them on his terms. And occasionally he surprises with a mellow response when I’m expecting the iron fist (an example was him being quite relaxed about Damon getting paint on his nice suit then trying to cover it up).

Jane Cunliffe is less accomplished in her role as Laura. That’s the current impression, anyway. There’s just something that feels a little untruthful. She’s not bad, but something just doesn’t work for me. I think it’s the fusion of writing and performance being a little at odds. To me it feels the actress is quite a different personality type to her character and this tells in the delivery. Laura’s had a few impassioned speeches about her career and her independence, but there’s such an undercurrent of disinterest it feels like someone just saying words that don’t mean anything to them. There’s no passion or belief there.

It probably doesn’t help that, by virtue of her place in the series (in all senses), it’s difficult not to draw unfavourable comparisons with Amanda Burton. Like Heather at series’ start, Laura is the young professional on the verge of making her mark in a male-dominated field (her tower block office even feels very much like the one Heather worked in circa 1984. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s the same building). And like Heather before her, Laura’s career is important enough to affect her romantic life. Already she’s postponed the wedding because of a case in which she’s invested. The lack of passion in the reading makes this a hard sell, but it does make Jonathan’s incredulity palpable, and so some good material comes from this angle.

For all her cries of wanting to make the world better, Laura’s behaviour is frequently selfish and entitled. She makes decisions about the wedding that affect many people, then expects Jonathan to at the very least present a united front when breaking this news to people (news that Jonathan himself is frustrated about). There’s promise there, with echoes of the early friction that existed between Heather and Roger when the series began. But it’s nowhere near so entertaining or memorable as, say, Heather “forgetting” to pick Roger up from the station as a punitive measure.

The bottom line is that much of the material in Number Nine currently feels very plot-driven. There’s been one “wedding versus work” argument after another in the lead up to the nuptials. And, once the wedding has finally taken place, no sooner is the couple back from honeymoon than there are arguments over Jonathan spending money on his state of the art compact disc system and whatnot. It could be teething trouble, or a sign of deeper problems. It could be because Laura is a spoilt princess and Jonathan won’t let it go. Or it could be that the creators are struggling to create interest by organic means. At this point, it doesn’t really matter which is the case… it’s a little tedious either way.

It’s better news when the newcomers interact with other households. Each of them has given Harry Cross a piece of their mind, and the last episodes of the run saw Jimmy McGovern create conflict from the pre-existing awkwardness between them and the Corkhills over noise pollution: a natural avenue to explore, given the homes are the only attached ones on the close, and there’s plenty of scope coming from frequent arguments. Billy grabbing Jonathan by the collar and slamming him against the wall had nostalgic echoes of the first episode's encounter between Bobby and Paul.

Whatever reservations there may be, the Jonathan/Laura material is far from the worst the series has to offer. That dubious honour remains with the tenants at Number Seven, where Pat amped up his grinning obnoxiousness to the limit in a defiant-and-annoying-as-hell last gesture. And just when it seems the annoyance has hit the ceiling, he has also - for pushed his Cockney accent to the limit in these last few weeks. It’s always been a little stereotypical, but it’s now become so broad that it seems almost satirical. Except satire is generally entertaining.

The whole bad boy thing has been annoying as all hell.It doesn’t even help that Pat is apparently meant to be annoying to watch at this point as he screws over his bandmates and landlord and housemate. Barry Grant he isn’t. We don’t know or care where it comes from or what it’s all about. Because it’s just the same petulant delivery we’ve been watching for three long years we just want him to stop talking and go away. Adding insult to injury, when he eventually does go away, he gets one that seems endless. He doesn’t just simply exit Number Seven. We watch him saunter across the Close, saying his goodbyes to various characters, then get into a waiting taxi. Even then we stay inside the taxi with him until the Close is out of sight. I’m taking the optimistic view that he was given a definitive exit so we could all be sure he’d really gone for good, with no question of a return. And good bloody riddance. Pat’s crime is a serious one in my eyes. He gave some of Brookie’s best years their most consistently unwatchable material.

continued…

​

I probably can only remember a couple of specific scenes from their time on the series. One is a flash of Jonathan waiting for Laura in a city centre (which I hesitantly admit I only remember because there was a poster for Jaws The Revenge in the background).

It happened in #510, which is one for James's pictures within a picture archive.

(I must say, the Gordon-Davieses' story seems to be moving at a rate of knots. They've barely arrived but I'm sure Laura's dad is going to be installing the new light switches anytime now.).

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Episodes 481 - 510
8 June - 15 September 1987

continued
​

I can’t remember if it’s received a passing mention at some earlier point, but it seems Q3 of 1987 is when HIV/AIDS has well and truly arrived in Brookside. And not just in one household. It seems to be on everyone’s minds.

Thoroughly Modern Laura suggested she and Jonathan take tests before their wedding for peace of mind. Following an observation about his string of female visitors, Harry Cross asked Pat if he was going to have “one of them blood tests”. It even came up in a discussion on junk food between Damon and Debbie, when Damon casually remarked that a non-smoking vegetarian could still get run over by a lorry “or get AIDS or something” (or words to this effect).

But nowhere has it been more prominent than at Number Five, where Bobby’s been supporting a colleague who is being pushed out because he has the virus. It took a degree of suspension of disbelief to accept that Bobby allowed himself to be talked into allowing Claire to be used as a weapon in the whole negotiation, with Jan Howardesque HR bod Angela Higgins agreeing to listen only if Bobby would allow Stan to hold and kiss Claire. All the same, with Bobby’s fiery, competitive nature allowing for a degree of impulsiveness, and his pride not allowing him to back down, there’s a little substance there.

Mostly, though, it was sold through the performances of Ricky Tomlinson and Sue Johnston, with Sheila taking the Devil’s Advocate role, giving voice to all the reasons against allowing Stan into their home. Sue Johnston’s performance is great in these scenes. Sheila’s views might be far from politic, but they reflect the fears of many in the wake of the messages from the dramatic, tombstone-heavy awareness-raising campaign taking place around this time. Bobby invokes faith and role models, both of which Sheila bats away admirably:

You’re supposed to be a Christian, aren't ya? What did Christ do when he saw the lepers? Walk by on the other side? No, he went over to them.

Yeah, but he made damn sure he cured ‘em first.

Look, if it’s good enough for Lady Di, I’m sure it’s good enough for us.

Oh, since when did we use royalty as a yardstick in this ‘ouse? …He’s a stranger. Worse than that, he’s a stranger who’s probably dyin’… I mean, that is bad enough. But he’s dying of AIDS: the great taboo… My God, it’s taken long enough for people to be able to talk about cancer. Decades, even. I know some people who still can’t bring themselves to mention the word. An’ now AIDS is on us: worse than cancer. An’ we’re expected to sit around and calmly talk it through. Well, I’m sorry. I’m not ready for that yet.

Sheila does eventually relent and agree to invite Stan, but the awkward meeting becomes increasingly volatile, coming to a head when she finally learns about the deal involving their daughter:

She’s a child. An’ you were gonna use her to prove your point. Well you can’t. She’s not your property. She’s not an extension of Bobby Grant. Whatever she does, it’s got nothing to do with your religion, or your politics or your courage. This isn’t the Old Testament. You don’t have to prove how saintly you are by sacrificing your children, for Christ’s sake.

Of course, the situation seeping into their home life is when things really take off with it, because Number Five is where it’s at for this family. Something that isn’t explicit but crossed my mind is how Sheila’s home became a haven for her following the rape, and there’s a sense that this is now being threatened and contaminated. I’ve never forgotten the scene of Sheila going straight into the kitchen to wash her hand after shaking Stan’s, but there are some other nice moments here. Such as the way she looks at the bag he places on the kitchen worktop as though it contains a neurotoxin. Or when Bobby unsettles Sheila by pointedly taking a sip from Stan’s glass.

Both Ricky and Sue do great work, but Sue’s is nothing short of brilliant because it seems so at odds with her own real-life character. I also like that Sheila's impassioned words about Claire not being an extension of Bobby's religion have an element of hypocrisy, given Damon and Karen's earlier difficulties in extricating themselves from the Catholic church, mainly due to Sheila's strength of feeling.

Characteristically for this series, Stan himself is a non-stereotypical character of choice for this particular storyline. He’s a simple Lancashire man, an amiable blue-collar everyman, married with kids, and played by Ian Bleasdale, a likeable face and certainly a familiar one these days, particularly for his long-running role on Casualty.

In some ways his role seems quite thankless. Much of his dialogue is necessary info-dumping, what James might call “talking pamphlet” business to inform the viewer of the illness, its progression (he talks about having AIDS-Related Complex which is presumably what would come to be known as HIV) and how it is and is not transmitted. Apart from this he practically watches from the sidelines as his fate is discussed and argued over by more passionate characters, almost invisible in his own storyline. And yet this challenge with the role is utilised as a strength, becoming symbolic for how he is being overlooked as an individual and instead defined by his illness. Sheila herself later describes it as a cloak that she saw before seeing the man underneath.

But see the man she does. It ends with a genuine hug upon Stan’s departure, but I think this might be the last we’ll see of Stan. I recalled reading in the Soap Box book (and just re-read it to refresh my memory) that the planned year-long storyline of Sheila supporting Stan through his illness had to be aborted due to Ian’s prior commitment to the Andy Capp series. If true it’s a shame we never got to see the big picture.

continued…​

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Episodes 481 - 510
8 June - 15 September 1987

continued
​

The Collinses have their own issue-led storyline underway with Mona’s declining memory taking hold. But the increasingly soapy contrivances which are to be found across the entire series to some degree, feel somehow quite exposed here. Of course, the social worker had to arrive at the worst possible time (and he apparently changed his mind off-screen, conveniently removing any threat of consequence for Paul and Annabelle). And of course half the close would suddenly doubt the Collinses’ characters to suit the script (even though I quite liked this angle in part, as it seemed symptomatic of the lack of neighbourly togetherness which seems a good fit for this series). Still, it has yielded some gold, particularly seeing Annabelle at her wits’ end.

While I remember him as something of a bad influence, I don’t think I’d realised back in the day just how greedy and devious the character of Christopher is. But I certainly shared Paul and Annabelle’s horror at the thought of him charming Mona into signing the house over to him and Gordon. And this is after he’s let out her house to Ralph without even Gordon’s consent. He’s played well enough, but I do wish there was a little more substance there.


If there’s one family who has owned this run of episodes, its the Corkhills. Billy’s desperation in particular has been tangible, and it’s influencing his decisions. These thirty episodes have seen him make choice after choice in a bid to claw out of the pit, and each choice is more damaging than the one before it.

It seems a long time ago now, but somewhere at the beginning of this run saw vintage Billy tearing up the neighbours’ gardens in his (ironically-named) Datsun Sunny, a cathartic expression of his frustration at the neighbours treating him (in his eyes) as a doormat, and an outlet for his home-based difficulties. And that’s just the tip of the criminal iceberg.

A theme in these episodes has seen Billy torn between The Corkhill and The Man. There’s a sense that he wants to take the high ground but, when his hard work has achieved little and the rope begins to tighten, he is cornered into doing what he and his brothers grew up knowing. When even Jimmy is worried that Billy is going to do something he’ll regret, you know it’s serious.

Billy’s big job - on the day of Jonathan and Laura’s wedding in the series’ five hundredth episode - has shown that the series at this point can still deliver a storyline that’s dark and gritty. As the robbery quickly went awry, leading to abduction and violence, Billy’s sense of horror was transmitted to the viewer. Once again, Billy is the one who is most exposed. He is the only one not wearing a mask, and his name is used in front of the hostage. And despite all attempts to be the hardened criminal, it’s Billy who is left to drive the stab victim to hospital.

His feeling of guilt, entrapment and isolation, just waiting for the inevitable hand on his shoulder while not being able to share his fears with anyone, is palpable in these episodes. Then Tracey is attacked to warn him off talking. Rod is on the case. And still hanging over the household is the ghost of Doreen’s almost-infidelity. There are so many layers in this household at the moment, and that includes the echoes of Number Ten’s equally tragic former occupants, from Gavin and Petra to George and Marie.

The run has closed out with Jimmy McGovern giving some of the Corkhills’ best material as Doreen presses Billy into a confession, and walks out after spitting in his face: more imagery that shocked me the first time round and has never been shaken. The bigger surprise for me was when Doreen returned as I remembered this scene as closing out her time as a regular. But I’m not at all sorry she’s still around as things are really cooking here at the moment and I’m looking forward to seeing where it goes next.

Almost as much as Billy, I do feel for Doreen. On the day of the wedding, all she wanted to do was put on a nice dress and hat and ingratiate herself with their posh new neighbours. But then, as Billy has reminded us, it’s Doreen wanting nice things which has led us to this point.

Rod and Kirsty have had a taste of the good life themselves, on a holiday in Greece. Julia couldn’t wait to brag to Jonathan and Laura about the fineries her grandson was enjoying:

They’ve got their own personal toilet, and a bottle opener on the wall.

 

[James from London]

 

[Mel O'Drama]

It's probably old-news now, but it's absolutely wonderful to see the first episode of Damon & Debbie is ready to watch on STV Player.

From the contact I had with STV last year, I know the series had to be licensed separately to Brookside, so they have really gone the extra mile here.

For anyone who hasn't already read it, here's the article announcing the return of Damon & Debbie to the screen, complete with new quotes from Simon O'Brien and Gillian Kearney.

Busy as this last week or so has been, I've yet to even begin the ten episodes of Brookie that dropped last week. And there are another five today! When I wrap up Phyllis in the next few days, I have a Brookside/Damon & Debbie marathon ahead of me.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Episodes 511 - 522
21 September - 27 October 1987
​

Brookside has reached the end of its fifth year of production with more departures on the horizon.

Having already briefly left and returned, Doreen is on the edge again. The pressure on the Corkhills has barely let up since they arrived on the scene. This run has seen Billy and Doreen waiting for the inevitable knock on the door while the rest of the family is in blissful ignorance. And while Billy had what appeared to be a lucky break during an identity parade, he’s now being blackmailed by the stabbing victim into perpetrating another robbery. It’s messy and it’s ugly, and it’s given us some great Corkhill material.

Incidentally, I found myself smiling just ahead of Billy’s line up, when the officer who’d been questioning him actually said “Carry on, Constable” to one of his colleagues.

Another little side note on this storyline: I couldn’t help noticing the victim/blackmailer’s car changed. When he initially followed Billy he was driving an Eighties-beige Peugeot 309. A few episodes later he was in an old, green Triumph Dolomite. Of course, there are plenty of feasible explanations for this question mark over continuity - especially since we now know he’s quite sketchy - but I want to know what this one’s about.

On her twenty fourth birthday, Laura has just become British soap’s second electrocution victim. Being a young newlywed who has been on the series just a matter of months there’s an undercurrent of wasted potential, but looking at it with cold, hard objectivity, this is probably not a bad thing for the series.

Laura and Jonathan together were very quickly repetitive, with Laura constantly written as spoilt and selfish and a bit whiny, prioritising her career her her marriage, while jumping on her husband any time he stops lavishing attention on her

These are Heatherisms, of course - the Heather/Roger dynamic in particular - and so had potential to be good for the series, even if it is taking some of the same paths as Number Nine’s previous occupant. Sadly, though, the Laura and Jonathan stuff feels very low energy, and I fear Jane Cunliffe might bear the weight of this. As much as is possible to tell from this one role, she seems like a nice, likeable person, but the performance mostly doesn’t work for me. Perhaps in another role she’d be terrific (and it seems she’s continued to work regularly as an actress since), but she just doesn’t feel a good fit for Laura. Or Brookside.

As I’ve said before, I don’t find the Gordon-Davies material unwatchable, but I’ve yet to see something truly compelling in their scenes. Jonathan’s current predicament of facing up to his wife’s potential imminent death shows promise, but my memory tells me to keep expectations low.

I’m curious about what I’ll feel about Jonathan’s relationship with Laura’s parents. Up until this point, most of the interest has come from Jonathan’s reaction to them, but always bounced off Laura. So he’s had polite small talk with them, but vented his annoyance about their constant interference to Laura when they’re out of earshot.

There was a nice little turnaround during a hospital scene, where Jonathan confessed to Laura’s mother Joanne that the house was a mess and gladly accepted her offer to go with him to the house and help tidy up.

Similar to Laura, I’ve found Carleen Lundon's performance as Joanne a bit of a mixed bag. Most of the time I’ve barely noticed her, but in one of her post-wedding-pre-electrocution visits to the house I found her performance rather am-dram. So, rather than getting irritated at the fusspot mother, I was getting irritated with the performance being a caricature of a fusspot mother, with singsong voice and hand on heart. I’d liken it to watching a little girl dressing up as her mother, and it was about as convincing. Now that it’s become about the aftermath of Laura’s accident, I find myself wondering which way it will go. I’m hoping for the best.

There’s a little scene where Jonathan stands in the back garden of Number Five having a stilted conversation with Damon, each understandably quite preoccupied with their own current storylines. Jonathan nods at Debbie and Claire blowing bubbles, and comments that it’s years since he’s done that. It’s not quite clear whether he’s talking about the bubbles, the babysitting or simply running round with a lack of self-consciousness, but it is clear that his mind is on his wife who is on life support, and perhaps their general discussion, just the night before her accident, about having children in the future. All things considered, Damon’s low-key awkwardness in not knowing what to say seems more important with hindsight. Even more than Laura, Damon is too full of youthful life to fully wrap his head around the concept of mortality.

continued…​

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Episodes 511 - 522
21 September - 27 October 1987
continued​

With Damon’s return to Brookside after working for Debbie’s father, things have sprung into three dimensional life, and he was immediately in conflict with Bobby and Sheila, Mr McGrath and Debbie herself.

There’s a winning scene having kept his end of the bargain by proving himself a good worker, he donned a shirt and tie and visited Mr McGrath hoping McGrath would keep his word and permit him to see Debbie. Its combination of optimism turning to shattered dreams is pure Damon, reinforced by the escalation to violence with McGrath attacking Damon and throwing him out of the house, face-planting him on the path outside.

But what I particularly love about Damon’s last arc on the series is how volatile it’s been at home. With him only returning for a handful of episodes before heading to York, the predictably soapy thing to do would be leaning into sentiment. Instead, many of the scenes at Number Five have been characterised by anger and disappointment and a lack of support. Bobby’s been in full-on throbbing vein mode, and so vociferous it has felt that he might explode into violence at any point. But it was actually Sheila who struck out at Damon, with a slap to the face.

Hindsight makes this all feel particularly heady. When things get this heated with the Grants, there’s a purity that runs back to the beginning of the series. It’s Brookside at its uncompromising best. At this point, this is the only household made up exclusively of original cast members (Claire aside) and it feels their parting gift to Simon O’Brien has been to give him a strong, memorable exit from the main series. It’s a nice touch that Barry returned in Damon’s final episode, the soapy coincidence easily outweighed by the treat of having four of the five original Grants under one roof.

Even when things have been difficult, there have been little nuggets of acknowledgement that Bobby and Sheila recognise Damon’s achievements and his hard work. This feels important because there are so many layers and the sense of history always tells.

Despite the lack of schmaltz, Damon’s final arc hasn’t been devoid of warmth, reflection and even a little sentiment. It’s been quite touching to watch Damon’s final interactions. Barry supporting Damon’s decision, for instance evolved into a conversation which could just as easily have been Paul Usher speaking to Simon O’Brien:

I think you’re right.

Do ya?!

Yeah. There’s no point in stayin’ round here, is there? Start living your own life… I’ve got me own life away from here now. Our Karen has, too. So now it’s your turn, Day. I’ll tell ya somethin’ else. When you do come back here you won’t ‘alf see this place different.

I know what you mean. I was only away from ‘ere for three months an’ when I came back the whole Close seemed so much, I dunno… smaller.

Well, the longer you’re away, the smaller it’s gonna get, Day.

Yeah. That in the end you go away for ages an’ ages an’ ages, an’ when you get back the whole close has disappeared.

​

Sheila and Damon’s final one-to-one, too, was lovely, with Sheila helping Damon pack his freshly-laundered clothing:

Damon, I’m sorry.

What for?

Well, I just think me an’ your Dad haven’t been as supportive as we might’ve been.

Don’t be soft… Look, I know it’s been bad for you an’ all, but it’ll be easier now that I’ve gone with all me problems.

Oh God, love. Now you’re makin’ me feel awful. I mean, what’s a mother for if you can’t come to her with your problems?

I can still phone ‘em through. Anyway, our Barry’s here now, I’m sure he can think of a couple for you.

Thanks, love. Our Barry’s problems I can do without. Anyway, he could be gone within a week.

There you go, then. You’ll ‘ave the whole house to yourself. Just you, me Dad an’ Claire. Nice an’ peaceful for ya… It’ll be like it was years ago, when you were first married.

Well, it can’t be, love. I was a different woman then.

​

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Episode 522
27 October 1987
​

While Damon’s last scene in Damon & Debbie has never been forgotten, I couldn’t remember his departure from the series at all well, so it was pleasing to see that there was a kind of reconciliation, with Bobby and Sheila’s reluctant acceptance of Damon choosing to leave with Debbie.

​

Incidentally, I don’t remember the Snidgie and Snodger nicknames being used before. Could these be genuine terms of endearment between Simon and Ricky?

Also, during Damon’s "Through The Soapy Sunroof" moment, in switching between his wave and his “to infinity and beyond” pointing sailor’s pose, one of my screen caps has caught what could be read as a Nazi salute. And it happens to be in the direction of the corner house which was the production office at the time. Hopefully it’s an unfortunate coincidence, but it did get me wondering.


Bobby and Sheila’s walk back indoors is laden with words that vacillate between ironic and prophetic.From Bobby predicting Damon and Debbie would last four weeks to his acknowledgement that Damon is “a survivor”. And Sheila’s grim feeling that “They won’t come back here again… because we let them down.” The Catholic guilt is already burgeoning, and Damon’s only just out of sight.

I’m with Sheila. The series has lost one of its most irreplaceable characters. It's another blow to the Grants as the series' most compelling and real family, and my viewing is going to be all the poorer for it.


But at least Damon’s not quite out of the audience’s lives entirely yet.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Episodes 523 - 530
Damon & Debbie Episodes 1 - 3
2 - 24 November 1987
​

In the run up to Damon & Debbie starting, I wasn’t sure whether I would watch it in strict date order with Brookside or watch Brookie all the way through and watch all three D&D episodes together right before the “pickup” episode of Brookside where news reaches the Close.

My main reason for considering the latter was my distant memory telling me that Damon & Debbie had a different tone to the main series, and I thought it might be a little jarring to jump between the two series several times.

In the end, the purist in me demanded a strict chronological viewing. To do otherwise had the potential to miss little references or allusions that might be made, and I felt that potential reward would far outweigh the effort of switching between series.

This has definitely been the case. It’s a nice little touch that it’s still Bonfire Night on the first episode of Damon & Debbie, meaning this episode begins on the same night Doreen walked out on Billy. In that first episode we saw Damon’s collection of postcards to throw their families off the trail, one of which arrived at Number Five the following week.

It’s so long ago, I can’t remember specifics, but it looks as if Brookside aired on Monday and Tuesday at 8pm, with Damon & Debbie on the Wednesday at 10pm! I was stuck with watching on S4C where Brookside aired on different days to C4. I can’t remember D&D’s day and time on S4C but Friday night rings a bell.

Considering the programme didn’t have the pre-watershed restrictions that Brookside did, I still find it a little surprising that Phil Redmond didn’t go much harder with this series. Compared directly with Brookside, even late 1987 episodes, the more whimsical Damon & Debbie mostly feels distinctly less edgy. Still, there’s always Debbie becoming the first Brookside character to utter the word “shit".

I can’t help feeling the poorer casting of this Brookside era is detrimental to the bubble, because Damon & Debbie is like a nightmarish vision of what Brookside might look like if every character was cast with 1987 sensibilities. And there’s no getting round the fact it’s poorer. Just as on the main series Tommy McArdle has been replaced by the less interesting s-s-s-Sizzler (whose “sinister” voice is the object of Sheila’s ridicule), so does Damon now find himself surrounded by chirpy goths and flamboyant computer geeks (with his colourful glasses and loud shirts, the guy is practically Biggins) and opinionated university snobs.

Even Debbie’s thuggish brothers have more than a dash of the Keystone Cops in their approach and results, and fleshing one of them out with a backstory of serving in the forces and a repeated catchphrase of “infinite patience” didn’t do much to improve things. It has to be said that there’s more than a dash of contrivance, such as the brothers’ first stop in the City Of York being the place where Damon had been working. Brookside itself isn’t free of this at the moment. The business with Barry happening to shag Sizzler’s bird, and Sinbad happening to steal the car meant to be used by the perpetrators to the art gallery theft in which Sizzler has a stake (adding insult to injury, Sinbad’s ridiculous calling card of a tinsel-covered poppy wreath which he had just been flogging door-to-door on the Close has conveniently led Barry right to him).

But the bubble’s DNA arguably has more in common with Redmond’s Grange Hill than it does Brookside, Almost as though he’s doing some of the stuff here he couldn’t get away with on that series. And viewing it through this prism has made it feel more interesting.

I also enjoy that the series is somewhat pioneering. Not only for being a nice concept (I don’t think any soap had done a spinoff in this specific a way before) but also for experimenting with things that it would later attempt in the main series, such as the music underscore, and internal dialogues. The latter of these works very well for the character of Damon since it allows us to connect with him on a different kind of level. And since this is his swan song, why not?

There’s a lot of romantic whimsy which is almost reminiscent of Karen and David’s romance a year or two earlier. I also like that the whimsical feel can lull the viewer into feeling secure, only to occasionally subvert expectations. The ugly National Front type racism in the final episode was an example of this, and I recall this would eventually be explored over in the parent series.

The freedom of the more experimental nature also allows things to be injected into this series that wouldn’t work on Brookside. One scene that worked really well for me was Damon sitting in an empty theatre, watching dancers (who may or may not actually be there) act out romance which turns to violence, symbolically mirroring the recent trajectory of his own life with Debbie, as fragments of dialogue can be heard playing out in his head (even Sheila’s there, with her recent warning that university was going to change Debbie).

I’m still undecided if Damon’s intimidating physical behaviour during their second episode argument is out of character given his usually easygoing nature. As I watched, it seemed so, but the more I reflect the less sure I am of that given the occasionally volatile environment at Number Five. There’s often a physicality to his family’s disagreements, with Damon often on the receiving end from his parents (and occasionally his older siblings), so it’s not that much of a stretch.

It’s hilarious when you think about it, isn’t it? Someone like you, runnin’ off with someone like me. What are ya gonna call it? Lady An’ The Tramp? You think you’re so smart, don’t ya, ‘cos you go to university. Yer a big kid. You play games cos you don’t know any better… I am sick to death of games. Bambi! Bambi!

Listen, I’m sorry if I’ve been gettin’ on your nerves.

Smart girl. You know nothin’. You’ve done nothin’.

Simon O’Brien in particular gave this series some much-needed grounding. The series found its heart when it tapped into what Damon has been about ever since leaving school, his almost constant optimism balanced by the gradual erosion of his sense of worth. The above dialogue came from this place, as did his dialogue after a dinner party with the middle class Indian couple who offer Debbie work as a programmer:

I can’t stand the sound of me own voice when I’m with people like that. I can’t stand there an’ be thinkin’ of everything an’ getting it wrong… They offered you a job. A proper job. In fact he begged you to go an’ work for them. D’you know how many job applications I’ve written this month alone? Do ya?

They’re all talk.

No, they’re not. An’ I don’t want them to be. I want you to get on. I’m just scared, that’s all. I’m scared that once you get to university every night’s gonna be like tonight. Me hatin’ the sound of me own voice. Me watching all the people sort out all the good jobs amongst themselves. Me sittin’ in the corner thinkin’ I’m clever cos I know what’s in the curry… I must love you, ya know. Cos I want what’s best for you, even though it’s killin’ me.

Even this quite sweet scene exploded into volatility when Debbie asked to sleep with Damon and he read it as pity. The second episode in particular was held together by the unpredictable peaks and troughs coming from their challenges, and it’s very much in the vein we'd expect from the Grant household.

continued…​

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Episodes 523 - 530
Damon & Debbie Episodes 1 - 3
2 - 24 November 1987
continued…
​

Speaking of the Grants, I very much enjoyed the household in those weeks when Damon was in York and Bradford. The Barry/Sizzler stuff was less than gripping (especially since it’s given Sinbad his first non-peripheral storyline, which has mostly been painful), but Sheila’s initial amused reactions made it (not just her comments to Barry when passing on the phone message, but also her having a little chuckle when Barry sheepishly arrived home with his clothing inside out carrying a random dressing gown (another contrivance, mind you. Barry travelled home in a taxi which would have given him plenty of time to sort out his clothing).

There was also the relative normality of Sheila’s annoyance at Bobby missing yet another planned special evening and arriving home drunk into the bargain. And her forceful comments about doing the Open University course - and consequently using the video recorder “sourced” by Barry - whether or not Bobby likes it.

The Corkhills have been just as watchable. Doreen’s presence is missed, but that’s the point of the storyline at the moment, so it’s fine. It feels there’s a noticeable amping up of Julia and Jimmy’s presences. Too much of either can be simply too much, but it’s tolerable at the moment. In fact, Dean Sullivan’s performance as Jimmy complemented John McArdle’s to help sell what was yet more convenience as the Riordan blackmail storyline was hastily wrapped up when Billy simply refused to do any more illegal activity for him on the basis he now had nothing to lose and didn’t care if he went down… just as long as he took Riordan with him. It was resolved a little too easily, but at least the wrapping up of the Billy/Riordan situation didn’t make me roll my eyes and sigh as much as witless Sinbad duping Sizzler, and getting a car and valuable paintings into the bargain.

Incidentally, a little continuity error with the Ford Escort. When Sinbad found it, I could see immediately it was a Ghia model due to the four-spoke steering wheel and plush velour upholstery. When Barry and Sinbad return the car after its “respray”, the black version had the two-spoke steering wheel of and plastic A-frame head rests of the lowlier models in the range (“L” and the like). Considering the respray was meant to be poor, I can’t imagine Sinbad doing a great job with reupholstering and changing the steering wheel, so it was clearly a completely different car.

Barry isn’t the only Grant-adjacent character to be involved in the tonal shifts. Much as the writing and performances made it work, the Matty and Paul pairing over their shared interest in running was never going to feel anything other than sudden and forced, and somehow at odds with any unspoken “rules” this series might have.

Surprisingly, one of the recent Collins moments that has stuck with me (actually from the previous lot of episodes) was during Mona’s little pre-dinner announcement that she had decided to go into a home. Gordon and Paul were both famished, and when Mona paused in the middle of a sentence, a loud crunch resonated round the dining room as Gordon took a sneaky bite of salad, only for Mona to resume a beat later as Gordon looked sheepish. Something about the timing of this one just worked for me and made me chuckle.

Elsewhere, Harry and Ralph have done some stuff at the British Legion. Hilarity ensued. Terry has moved in with Jonathan and fallen for his secretary, Sue (presumably over their shared penchant for loudly slurping coffee). Frankly it’s difficult to care.

Back in York, the Bhangra night conveniently brought together practically the entire ensemble, all happily forgiving and forgetting. It could be argued it’s necessary, since we won’t see or hear from most of them again, but it’s still as cheesy as it sounds. Had the series ended on this note, I suspect it would have been forgotten very quickly, but the thing on which the entire series hinged was its ending. They certainly pulled out the big guns for that final scene, even getting Damon into uniform for his new job, raising the romantic imagery to the Nth degree.

And it works, because it still tugs at the heartstrings.

If memory serves, it was fairly well-known that this would be Damon’s exit, but I forget how much I knew ahead of time (it is, disgracefully, telegraphed in detail in the episode synopsis on STV). One thing I’m very happy about is that I was able to keep the ending from my partner who hadn’t watched before.

Intercutting Damon’s encounter with the knife-wielding thugs with the urgent drums of the Bhangra night worked, because the series had opened my mind to something a little more showy than we might see elsewhere. Simon O’Brien, of course, is note-perfect to the end - and this series alone must have been quite a ride for him given Damon’s ups and downs.

But what really makes it hit hard is the little speech Frank Cottrell-Boyce gave to Damon for his curtain call which once again gets to the heart of who he was… right to the end:

We’ll go on the boat. Be nice, eh? We’ll slip the moorings, an’ drift off. Just drift.. Just the two of us, down to the sea. Not you, though. You can’t. You’ve got stuff to do. I’m the drifter.

Spoiler: Damon drifts

​

​

Whatever else Damon & Debbie has done, it's given us a definitive character exit that still gets me today.

continued…​

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Episodes 523 - 530
Damon & Debbie Episodes 1 - 3
2 - 24 November 1987
continued
​

With the bubble being different in tone to the series, it felt quite strange returning to Brookside, knowing that Damon was dead but with everyone on the parent series in blissful ignorance. It would be quite easy to believe that D&D was non-canon and Damon was going to walk back through the door at any moment, which really helps get on board with the disbelief of the situation.

I liked the way Damon’s presence was felt throughout the episode ahead of the news, from Sheila smiling at Damon’s name typed on an envelope that arrived, to her retrieving Damon’s Liverpool scarf from his room to wash. And there’s a wealth of “through the soapy window” moments because the episode is bookended by imagery of Sheila looking out onto the Close. At the beginning she’s taking down the net curtains.

At the end, she’s cleaning the same windows, when the arrival of the police car (yet another Escort) is revealed through a blur of Windowlene. It’s a really nice little piece of direction, with harsh reality coming into focus from obliqueness with each movement of Sheila’s cloth.

It’s a lovely touch that Sheila perceives something is going on. Even before Tommo breaks the news to Rod as she watches from behind the glass, she tells Bobby this is “different” from a casual visit, and the fact that she refuses Bobby’s suggestion to move away from the window with a firm “No” suggests she realises something is amiss with someone from her own household. Whether it’s something as elusive as parental instinct or as practical as reading body language (or even lips) isn’t confirmed. She knows, even if neither she nor we fully understand why.

​

It goes without saying that Sue Johnston and Ricky Tomlinson have both done wonderful work in the aftermath of the news. The sense of intimacy in the Grant house has made watching quite an uncomfortable experience. Like Sheila, we hear Bobby’s howls of grief and are powerless. The scene in which they identified Damon’s body and Sheila walked in to give him a kiss on the forehead was so powerful because everything was told to us through their expressions (and it’s even more impressive considering Sue was presumably looking at a body double rather than Simon O’Brien). And this time it’s Bobby who is witness, and all he can do is wait to put a consoling arm around her. It’s another uncomfortable one because it again feels so intimate that to watch feels quite intrusive.

It’s for this reason I’m glad we didn’t see Tommo actually break the news to them. The scene of his arrival, and the scene after he’s left with the Grants packing for York both tell us all we need to know.

In these last two episodes it’s been interesting to see the Grants and Corkhills - and specifically Sheila and Billy - come into one another’s orbits. First was Sheila finding Billy sitting in his car in a daze. There was a nice moment where she started to walk away, before checking herself and reluctantly approaching him and eventually inviting him for a cuppa. It’s clear he’s relieved to finally have someone relatively objective to talk to about Doreen leaving. Even as I watched, it crossed my mind that this was the most meaningful exchange I could recall between them.

Then comes the news, and because Tommo has told Rod, and Rod’s told Billy (I’m sure there must be a massive breach of police confidentiality somewhere along the way) Billy feels the need to reciprocate the kindness and visits Number Five to offer condolences and support. And the funny thing is, a few weeks earlier it’s probably exactly what Doreen would have done, against Billy’s wishes. Things have changed a lot. Knowing how things will pan out between these two households in the months and years to come, it’s interesting to see this shift which - intentionally or otherwise - more than paves the way for what’s ahead.

Sue and Ricky are truly the gift that keeps on giving to Brookside viewers. Each time it seems they can't get any better... they do.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Episodes 531- 545
30 November 1987 - 18 January 1988
​

While it’s not an exact science, the series’ casting arguably went off the boil somewhere around 1986 and many new characters are a step towards what the series would become in the following decade and a half. By virtue of how long some of them are around, I’ve viewed the Rogers family as a giant leap towards latter day Brookie and so it’s safe to say I was not particularly enthused about their arrival.

So far, though, the news isn’t too bad, which is fortunate since we’ve spent a lot of time with them. There’s been little easing in… the powers that be want us to get to know their new family quickly. Mostly it’s been everyday stuff, following the practicalities of moving in and choosing rooms, along with exposited information about their backgrounds and setup. Frank has been away with work, so in some ways we’re getting to know the family and their little ways through his eyes.

As far as Frank and Chrissy go, it’s mostly happy families. He’s home, they’re moving up in the world from their previous flat and all is well. The little conflicts so far have shown some promise. Some have been within the family - mostly Growler having trouble at school or butting heads with his sisters - but there have been some cross-words with other households, from Chrissy giving Harry Cross a piece of her mind and getting him to fork up to pay to remove his furniture into the bargain to Frank having a go at Terry for scaring the kid. In actual fact it was Terry’s drunken father who had knocked on the window, and it was Harry who had told them about Kate’s death.

Incidentally, the coincidence of Kate’s old room now being inhabited by Katie has been highlighted. And it’s struck me that most if not all of the new family’s names have been used before elsewhere in the series in some shape or form. From Sam Partridge to Frank Blackburn (who happens to have been played by Frank Rogers actor Peter Christian). Even in current Brookside, we have Geoff Rogers and Geoff Wright appearing in the same episodes. And likewise Chrissy Rogers and Chris Duncan. Convention says this is confusing and should be avoided, but in practice I don’t think twice about it because such is life. And it’s far preferable to the “children of pop star” names newer soap characters increasingly have to keep them unique and memorable (although, sadly, this too also reflects real life).

Something that’s notable compared with most earlier arrivals has been the speed with which they’ve been integrated. In addition to the already-mentioned conflict, we’ve seen the family inviting all the neighbours in for a Christmas drink, traditionally the Grants’ territory, but they’re understandably occupied with other matters. And Sheila and Chrissy popping in and out of one another’s homes for a cuppa is very community-minded, but something that would have been an anathema on original-recipe-Brookie. The latter has actually made me start wondering if the different tone is not entirely due to the different series creators, but also in part influenced by the fact that the Close at this point is not a brand new development but a well-inhabited place with its own established rhythms and energies. On the surface this might make it seem more difficult to crack as a newcomer, but perhaps if other residents are established and settled they have more room to be welcoming and community-minded. It’s just a thought, and possibly an inaccurate one at that, but if the whole point of the original series was to observe how a street of completely new residents interacted with one another, then its raison d’être has to change a little over time.

One surprising thing about my first impressions of the new tenants is that Growler is actually one of the most watchable elements so far. His cheeky scally lad has shades not only of early Damon, but also the Jackson boys. Yes, it’s others responses to him that create the most interest, but he’s also very ably played which is quite a surprise. As the straightforward earthy bloke, Geoff so far is pretty much exactly as I remember him. Despite being the harried mum, Chrissy is generally too happy and contented to properly get her measure at this moment, but she’s been fine in what I’ve seen and I’ve liked the occasional glimpses of her more fiery side.

The news wasn’t initially so good with the two girls, whose first episodes seemed to reduce them to a characteristic or two. Sammy moaned and rolled her eyes and gave off much teenage attitude which might be authentic but is tedious to watch. Yes, there are shades of Karen Grant in there, but her initial episodes haven’t really gone below the surface. Spending some time with them has paid off in this regard because the act has expanded a little, but she’s still one of the less-watchable parts of the family. The same goes for Katie, really. Much of it is clearly going to be down to the actress’s young age and inexperience. She smiled her way through her first few scenes, which seems to be down to the novelty of being on the telly. There was one moment where she stuck her tongue out at Frank to express annoyance that I found most unbelievable. I’m hoping The Other Debbie Reynolds will become a little more skilled and convincing as she gets used to things, but I know she won’t be around for that long anyway.

It seems the Rogerses are a parting gift from Stuart Doughty. I’m not entirely clear on the line of succession with Brookie’s producers, but from this list it seems the Doughty era ended with #540. What it doesn’t make clear is just who has taken up the reins from him. I haven’t seen another producer listed in the credits (apart from Phil Redmond as E.P., of course) so it’s a bit of a mystery… to me, at least.

continued…​

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Episodes 531- 545
30 November 1987 - 18 January 1988

continued…
​

The final Stuart Doughty moments were a highlight of this run of episodes, with an ugly confrontation between Bobby and Barry which results in the latter being forcefully evicted. The five-and-a-half minute scene is a masterpiece in the way it escalates, and it’s one of those kinetic scenes that follows characters from room to room, and up and down stairs, becoming increasingly claustrophobic with a sense that there’s nowhere to escape. Most impressive is that over four minutes of the scene - which has some very complex and intricate staging, moving from dining table to kitchen to sofa and up the stairs to the bedroom - are shot on one hand-held camera without a single cut.

What I found almost confusing is that at times each attempts to defuse the situation a little, to try and get the other to see their side. But it’s Barry who does the lion’s share here, holding his tongue and his temper while Bobby becomes increasingly antagonistic, hellbent on having an argument and seemingly wanting to drive Barry out while Sheila isn’t around to intervene. By the time she does return, it’s too late. Voices are raised and there’s no turning back.

In many ways it’s a tragic look at the way grief can tear a family apart, and there are so many layers to the scene: grief over Damon’s death; the eternally-strained relationship between father and son; competition over Sheila’s affections.

During the angry exchange, Bobby lays claim to his possessions: the house is Bobby’s. The bedroom was Damon’s but is now just a room that he lets Barry use. He is galled that Barry doesn’t like the way Bobby is treating Sheila. And at one point he lays claim to grief over Damon, which is where Barry sets him straight. A degree of resentment could also be read from Bobby over the fact that Barry was the person who had spoken so favourably (and touchingly) about Damon at his funeral.

I found episodes with Damon’s body being brought home and his funeral unexpectedly moving. Unexpected because I don’t remember finding myself feeling so much sadness the first time round. But then I suppose middle age changes one’s perspective on mortality and teenage me would have viewed things quite differently.

The episodes also proved a last hoorah for a number of other characters from the series’ history. A surreal sense of worlds colliding came from seeing Damon’s friends from across the eras - Gizzmo and Ducksie; Neil and Mark - interacting with each other. It felt almost like one of those Doctor Who stories where people from different times end up together. But seeing them all together felt quite right too. If anything it drove home the sadness that Damon is gone, because I’d have loved to see all five of them bantering away. Karen’s absence was noticeable, but was at least addressed in dialogue.

With no Karen, no Damon and now no Barry, there’s a noticeable lack of love at Number 5. If it weren't for Claire, there would be none at all. When I first began rewatching, I remember being pleasantly surprised at how much fun and joviality there was in the household, even when things were difficult. Bobby ’88, with his angry outbursts and heavy drinking, is the one that was lodged in my memory. And that’s a shame as it’s such a small part of who the character was. While he’s always had his questionable moments, Bobby ’88 seems to be defined by these. As mentioned, the grief factor makes it credible, but I can’t help being aware there’s also that element of the producer or writer’s revenge, demonising the character because of difficulties going on behind the scenes. Good as the current material is, it’s painful to watch the household crumbling and I’m feeling very hesitant about the months to come.

Another example of the producers’ revenge has now been wrapped up, with Jane Cunliffe having served her penance of playing comatose for some time. Again, Laura’s life support being switched off had some touching moments, but it’s Jonathan’s reactions - staying in a state of practical-but-cold detachment - which seem to have the most potential. And in among it, a moment of quiet heroism as he decides to lie at the inquest to spare Laura’s parents the knowledge that it was Geoff’s botched wiring that killed her. As it is, he looks quite suspicious. During moments of anger, the Wrights’ have come close to accusing him of wanting Laura dead, and there’s little in the performance to refute that.

Now Jonathan has gone on his skiing trip, and I recall this leads to a series of blondes ending up under his roof. One of them - Sue - is already throwing herself at Terry. Young me recalls Sue being quite likeable and easygoing. So far she’s neither, really. The bottom line is that the “least watchable household” curse has simply followed Terry from one home to another. It’s not even entirely his fault, but it is an example of one of the things that caused Brookie’s downfall: attempting to force reliable supporting players into main character territory.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Also in this run of episodes, AIDS has now shifted from the previously-planned storyline to become a more peripheral (and offscreen) one where a friend of Chris, dying from the disease, has been ostracised and necessitates him loaning out his flat to said friend. Which in turn necessitates him moving in with the Collinses. Their discomfiture at Chris’s openness and tactility with Gordon causing the necessary tension under Number Eight’s roof.

It’s had its moments, including a little speech from Chris about the consequences of driving a wedge between him and Gordon, which would result in a new partner for Gordon, with all the potential sexual health risks attached to that. It’s a little manipulative, of course, but that’s right in character for Chris.

When it comes to the tensions in the hosuehold, I find myself in agreement with everyone’s points of view at times. Chris isn’t wrong that Paul and Annabelle are uptight (though as a temporary guest it’s hardly his place to point this out). Gordon is right that Chris is thoughtless. And Paul and Anna are right that Chris is a bad influence on the increasingly-aimless Gordon.

And of course it’s been fun to see Paul’s pearl-clutching reactions whenever there’s a PDA between Gordon and Chris. And on this note, I’ve stumbled upon this related chat between Phil Redmond and Stiffyn Parri which touches upon these episodes in particular:

 

[James from London]

Much of the information comes materially, with the imagery and props appearing jn Number Nine clueing us in to the upwardly mobile nature of the household. Exposed brickwork in the dining area. Tick. Cork tile kitchen floor. Tick. Kellogg’s Country Store prominently displayed on the table at breakfast. And the Jonelle wallpaper Damon is tasked with hanging (this is perhaps the most telling. They’re posh enough to shop at John Lewis’s, which was kind of a big deal in the Eighties, but they’re still buying Lewis’s own brand, so there are a few rungs to climb before they enter the “posh house on the Wirral” set).

Great observations! I'd never have picked those little details up.

Status symbols aside, though, the news is a little more mixed with this couple. It feels Steven Pinner has quickly carved out his little place on the series. The stories aren’t the most riveting, but I believe him as a character, and I believe his responses. Jonathan’s been just removed enough from most of the neighbours to keep things feeling too safe, while interacting well with them on his terms.

Yes, on past viewings. I've been guilty of tarring Jonathan and Laura with the same brush, but he's actually good, or as good as he can be under the circumstances. I thought your earlier description of him as a cross between Hughs Grant and Laurie was spot on. He's got a bit of that uptight Roger Huntington thing going on, but without going full-on prig. He's posher than Roger to begin with, which probably means he's more comfortable in his own skin. There's one scene where he's casually juggling some balls in the background, which on one hand is quite an actorly thing to do, but it also sort of fits in with his university-educated, rugger-shirt persona.

Jane Cunliffe is less accomplished in her role as Laura. That’s the current impression, anyway. There’s just something that feels a little untruthful. She’s not bad, but something just doesn’t work for me. I think it’s the fusion of writing and performance being a little at odds. To me it feels the actress is quite a different personality type to her character and this tells in the delivery. Laura’s had a few impassioned speeches about her career and her independence, but there’s such an undercurrent of disinterest it feels like someone just saying words that don’t mean anything to them. There’s no passion or belief there.

I can't disagree with any of that, but I guess a combination of low expectations and knowing Laura won't be around for long makes me kindly disposed to her. Her slightly lifeless, monotone delivery feels more forgivable than Sandra's shrill histrionics or Pat's grotesque mugging. What's left is a kind of curiosity of what might have been had she been played by a more dynamic actor and then stuck around longer. On paper at least, her combination of ditzy and driven makes for an interesting paradox. As does her lack of interest in the wedding which puts Jonathan in the more traditional female role of worrying about the arrangements and being hurt by her innate lack of romance. But when he feels obliged to go ahead with the plans without her approval, she accuses of him being a typical man overriding the feelings of the little woman. Also, it's kind of interesting that Jonathan, posho that he is, should have more of an understanding of her working class parents' pride in giving her an expensive wedding than she does.

It probably doesn’t help that, by virtue of her place in the series (in all senses), it’s difficult not to draw unfavourable comparisons with Amanda Burton. Like Heather at series’ start, Laura is the young professional on the verge of making her mark in a male-dominated field (her tower block office even feels very much like the one Heather worked in circa 1984. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s the same building). And like Heather before her, Laura’s career is important enough to affect her romantic life. Already she’s postponed the wedding because of a case in which she’s invested. The lack of passion in the reading makes this a hard sell, but it does make Jonathan’s incredulity palpable, and so some good material comes from this angle.

Yes, I wondered if Heather and Laura's offices were the same too. I'm not sure if I read it somewhere or just surmised it. but I think Redmond had originally wanted to explore the career versus babies dilemma faced by a young professional couple through Roger and Heather, but that was curtailed when Roger quit. So Jonathan and Laura was a second chance to do the same thing, but then that gets cut short as well.

And yes, there's a kind of overlap between Jonathan having to make all the effort with his and Laura's wedding, and the actor playing Jonathan having to do all the heavy lifting in their scenes together.

For all her cries of wanting to make the world better, Laura’s behaviour is frequently selfish and entitled. She makes decisions about the wedding that affect many people, then expects Jonathan to at the very least present a united front when breaking this news to people (news that Jonathan himself is frustrated about). There’s promise there, with echoes of the early friction that existed between Heather and Roger when the series began. But it’s nowhere near so entertaining or memorable as, say, Heather “forgetting” to pick Roger up from the station as a punitive measure.

Yes, post-wedding, Jonathan and Laura increasingly feel like a pale xerox copy of Roger and Heather: the bickering over who has the car, who picks up whom, extravagant shopping trips without the other one's blessing ... and then both arriving home in a bad mood to be greeted by an obliviously cheery Paul Collins. Jumping ahead, I've just watched the dinner party episode where Laura loses her wedding ring, which reminded me of an really early dinner party at Roger's boss Derek's house, where the guests once again include an opinionated feminist and her eye-rolling husband, but minus any of the subtlety or nuance of the earlier story.

the last episodes of the run saw Jimmy McGovern create conflict from the pre-existing awkwardness between them and the Corkhills over noise pollution: a natural avenue to explore, given the homes are the only attached ones on the close, and there’s plenty of scope coming from frequent arguments. Billy grabbing Jonathan by the collar and slamming him against the wall had nostalgic echoes of the first episode's encounter between Bobby and Paul.

All fantastic stuff. Funny in a satisfyingly real, character-based way, as opposed to the unfunny farcical stuff concurrently taking place at the Collinses and Harry's.

Whatever reservations there may be, the Jonathan/Laura material is far from the worst the series has to offer. That dubious honour remains with the tenants at Number Seven, where Pat amped up his grinning obnoxiousness to the limit in a defiant-and-annoying-as-hell last gesture. And just when it seems the annoyance has hit the ceiling, he has also - for pushed his Cockney accent to the limit in these last few weeks. It’s always been a little stereotypical, but it’s now become so broad that it seems almost satirical. Except satire is generally entertaining.

The whole bad boy thing has been annoying as all hell.It doesn’t even help that Pat is apparently meant to be annoying to watch at this point as he screws over his bandmates and landlord and housemate. Barry Grant he isn’t. We don’t know or care where it comes from or what it’s all about. Because it’s just the same petulant delivery we’ve been watching for three long years we just want him to stop talking and go away. Adding insult to injury, when he eventually does go away, he gets one that seems endless. He doesn’t just simply exit Number Seven. We watch him saunter across the Close, saying his goodbyes to various characters, then get into a waiting taxi. Even then we stay inside the taxi with him until the Close is out of sight. I’m taking the optimistic view that he was given a definitive exit so we could all be sure he’d really gone for good, with no question of a return. And good bloody riddance. Pat’s crime is a serious one in my eyes. He gave some of Brookie’s best years their most consistently unwatchable material.

Amen. Even though I've been scrolling through most of his scenes for two screen years now, it's still a sweet relief to have him finally gone.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

He's got a bit of that uptight Roger Huntington thing going on, but without going full-on prig. He's posher than Roger to begin with, which probably means he's more comfortable in his own skin.

I've really enjoyed Jonathan's curt and dismissive side. He comes across as someone who deals very much in facts, pleasant or otherwise. Pragmatism isn't always well-received so there's potential for conflict in his interactions. Of course, this becomes much more amped up when Laura is hospitalised, but I appreciated that it could be seen from his arrival.

Your reminder that he was hurt over Laura's lack of romance when it came to wedding decisions and choosing the rings is a reminder that this was balanced out.

There's one scene where he's casually juggling some balls in the background, which on one hand is quite an actorly thing to do, but it also sort of fits in with his university-educated, rugger-shirt persona.

I can remember the scene, and I watched it without it really registering how that fitted with his background, but yes - you're absolutely right.

I guess a combination of low expectations and knowing Laura won't be around for long makes me kindly disposed to her. Her slightly lifeless, monotone delivery feels more forgivable than Sandra's shrill histrionics or Pat's grotesque mugging.

Yes. Despite my comments, I never found Laura unpleasant to watch and I think my view, like yours, is tempered by the knowledge that it's only for a brief window of time.

What's left is a kind of curiosity of what might have been had she been played by a more dynamic actor and then stuck around longer.

Memorable as the exit story might have been, I'd have taken Laura - even Jane Cunliffe's Laura - over what we would get soon afterwards. I can't say I'm relishing spending time at Number Nine from 1988 onwards.

I'm not sure if I read it somewhere or just surmised it. but I think Redmond had originally wanted to explore the career versus babies dilemma faced by a young professional couple through Roger and Heather, but that was curtailed when Roger quit. So Jonathan and Laura was a second chance to do the same thing, but then that gets cut short as well.

I suppose all soaps have this kind of obstacle to deal with fairly regularly, but I can't help wondering if Brookie had more sudden departures (or actors leaving before the end of their planned arcs) than most.