I'm absolutely fine with spoilers if you have some theories, I'm keen to hear. Like I say I've watched various youtube clips/episodes and read books over the years from before I started watching properly so Its not like you are going to spoil anything for me.
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Brookside Brookside
- Thread starter ArchieLucasCarringtonEwing1989
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Thinking about it, calling them significant turning points might have been a bit strong of me. It's probably fairer to say that there are certain patterns in Barry's story from the beginning that give some kind of credence to who he became. There's his run-in with Demon Duane near the start of the series, and his black market dealings which could be seen in the opening episode with the replacement loo he supplied to the Collinses. Certainly by the point I've reached there's also a significant history of him having very dodgy underworld acquaintances.
The key difference between early and late Barry is that we don't see him with his family, which would explain why he's unleashed a bit more, but also why later Barry is far less nuanced and interesting. Whatever else he does in the Eighties episodes, he loves his "mam" and looks out for his siblings. And his troubled relationship with Bobby arguably also informs some of his interactions with older figures like Tommy McArdle (even though it's not his primary reason for interacting with them).
Even watching the 1988 episodes, though, it's difficult to reconcile the Barry onscreen with the cold-blooded person he'd become.
Ah okay yeah thats interesting. I seem to recall from watching some of the old repeats that UK Living used to show years ago that
He ended up running lols of illegal raves - not sure if you have reached that point yet on STV. I think I still did think at the time that it was a stretch to acquire so many properties but I'm sure its explained in some way! Good point about having his family there/not there.
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I think that was early Nineties, so there's still a little way to go before that storyline drops on STV.
I forget the ins and outs of that story specifically, but the thing about Barry beyond a certain point is that there's always a dodgy wealthy associate... invariably with strings attached to any loan.
Yes that does make sense. And I do appreciate looking for logic in a soap opera from 30 years ago is somewhat pointless but I do find it interesting!I think that was early Nineties, so there's still a little way to go before that storyline drops on STV.
I forget the ins and outs of that story specifically, but the thing about Barry beyond a certain point is that there's always a dodgy wealthy associate... invariably with strings attached to any loan.
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Whew. I'm glad you added those last half a dozen words, because if you look around the site, you'll find that an awful lot of discussions hereabouts are about looking for logic in 30+ year old soaps.
Oh absolutely. I've read all this thread so I can see that. Its nice to see some like-minded people. I've tried to get my wife into watching it from the start and its fair to say she has zero interest!
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Wow - that's dedication. You can stay.
Oh, shame you couldn't sell your wife on the idea, but at least now you can share the viewing experience with us. Like you, I really appreciate this place because everyone just gets it and I don't have to apologise for being geeky or obsessive or whatever. It's always lovely to see newer members coming along and giving a fresh view on things as well.
Thanks!Wow - that's dedication. You can stay.
Oh, shame you couldn't sell your wife on the idea, but at least now you can share the viewing experience with us. Like you, I really appreciate this place because everyone just gets it and I don't have to apologise for being geeky or obsessive or whatever. It's always lovely to see newer members coming along and giving a fresh view on things as well.
I'm only up to episode 31 now so it will be a while before I can comment in 'real time' but like I say I dont mind spoilers anyway
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I'm only up to episode 31 now so it will be a while before I can comment in 'real time' but like I say I dont mind spoilers anyway
Oh, no problem. As you'll have seen from reading through the thread, we've all been at different stages at different times, and even now there are often months' worth of episode drops between us.
For me, I really enjoy reminders of things that happened some years earlier in the series. A lot of it is still fresh in my mind but those details can quickly be forgotten, and sometimes there can be a kind of synchronicity between a characters' journey then and now.
I'm still getting used to the endings of the episodes being just calm endings and not some type of cliffhanger. The last episode I just saw Shelia said to Karen that for dessert they have chocolate mouse. And then it ended! Obviously that will change at some point but its quite refreshing.
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Earlier in the thread I posted a video of young people reacting to the first episode of Brookie, and there was great disapproval that it was a soap that didn't end on a big dramatic cliffhanger.
Some years ago I remember visiting someone in hospital and the person in the next bed had the TV on. I watched as their visitors spoke all the way through EastEnders and then, in unison, all of them stopped talking and stared at the screen with about a minute to go. Onscreen, voices were raised and the doof-doofs came and the visitors immediately turned back and carried on with their conversation as though it hadn't been interrupted. I found it fascinating - and a little disheartening - that they were so conditioned to care about the cliffhanger and only the cliffhanger that the other 27 minutes of the episode didn't seem to even matter.
Like you, I find the structure of Brookie and often the lack of a cliffhanger refreshing. I love that the big scene or the important part doesn't have to be tacked on in the last minutes of the episode. Context is everything and it's all about the full picture.
Ha ha. I can't remember this one, but I just know that Sue Johnston made it compelling.
Yeah I can imagine that completely. Brookside was the same by the time I was originally watching in the early 90s I'm sure. And it definitely was the same by the end of the 90s 100%.
Barry just slapping that older woman in the pub was very much 'of its time' too. Whilst dressed in a suit. Probably preferable to some of the horrendous early 90s outfits he had. Its like watching a time capsule
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Episodes 591 - 615
27 June - 19 September 1988
27 June - 19 September 1988
It’s a funny old time for the series. These twenty five episodes have been eventful in many ways, and a couple of changes in dynamics, along with the comings and goings, make some of these episodes essential viewing. Yet much of it feels strangely lacking in those areas that have made Brookside so compelling. Sad to say, I just don’t feel a lot of what’s going on truly matters at the moment.
The biggest news has been the sale of Number Five, which has meant the departure of the Grants. Not quite for good, since Barry is squatting at his old house, and with the benefit of hindsight I know this won’t be the last we see of Sheila. Not that I feel at all cheated by the finality of those final moving scenes of Sheila leaving the close, sadness written all over her face. It’s a life-changing moment for Sheila, but also a game changer for the audience. The Grants have been the heart of the series for nigh on six years, and this formalises the fact that they are no longer the series’ First Family, and never will be again.
Softening the blow is the brief return of Karen to the fold. There’s been a lot of water under the bridge since she was last seen, and she’s been conspicuous by her absence, but the writing does a nice job of belatedly giving her a voice regarding Damon’s death and Bobby and Sheila’s separation. Nothing feels forced, and there’s a strange kind of synergy that comes from the sense that characters, actors and writers are all on the same page as the audience in recognising that she hasn’t been present for events we might have expected her to be. Her absence is acknowledged but not dwelt upon, and Karen is also given a voice in the present, visiting both Sheila and (offscreen) Bobby, and giving Sheila a timely pep talk about the value of education and independence. There’s a little nostalgia thrown into the mix, with references to her camping trip with Jack Boswell, and her romance with one of the McGanns. Really, though, just seeing her is enough. Karen’s been one of the most consistently reliable characters on the series, and that is hugely valued in this household at a time when Barry is becoming more heavily involved in shady - and mostly tedious - underworld stuff.
Sheila’s other main support has come from across the road at Number Ten, primarily Kathy and Billy. Kathy’s been strong-arming Billy into letting Sheila move in (very cheeky considering she herself is only meant to be staying while looking for other accommodation, but right in character) and, although Sheila turned down the offer, Billy has been stepping up for her regardless. Indeed, watching the earliest episodes in this run after a bit of a gap, it struck me how noticeably the writing of these two now felt like The Pair The Audience Most Wants To Become A Couple. If I’d never seen this series before, I’d still have picked that up. And if this was early on in a series, this kind of writing would make Billy and Sheila the romantic leads. As I’ve previously mentioned, I wasn’t a particular fan of this pairing the first time round, but I have to say it’s winning me over.
It’s interesting that a key moment in terms of Billy’s depth of feeling for Sheila comes along at the climax of what is, strictly speaking, a Collins family story: the gay basher arc. It strikes me this time round that the storyline plays out very much like a serialised version of the much-maligned Knots episode Land Of The Free. The Brookie version does a nice job of building tension at times. Somewhere around the Six Hundredth, there’s one episode in particular where we know the far right thugs could arrive at any moment and I found myself watching the background of non-related scenes, through the window for sign of movement outside. I also enjoyed the confusion that followed the case of mistaken identity where Jamie - standing in the proximity of Number Eight - was mistaken for one of the gays and knocked unconscious, with nobody (including Jamie himself) aware of the reason. Paul Collins even suggests that it’s related to some shady Corkhill business.
Here, as in the Knots episode, the story’s climax sees the men of the cul-de-sac fighting back, with Gordon, Christopher, Jamie, Billy and Barry holding them off. It’s Billy who throws the first punch, after one of the thugs calls Sheila an “old tart”. Sheila picks up on it, of course, but this feels like more of a turning point because this feels like the moment Barry recognises Billy’s depth of feeling for his mother. And quite possibly, Billy himself only truly realises it in this moment. Nothing more is said, but this quiet little triad continues when Sheila - after her departure and a bit of an absence while she is in a bedsit offscreen - briefly returns to the Close to collect some things Billy is storing for her, only to realise that Barry is still squatting at Number Five, his love life a mess once again (the less said about Sizzler’s lack of retribution for Barry and Penny breaking into Sizzler’s “office” and attempting to steal the videotape with which he is blackmailing them, the better).
Sheila and Barry have a lovely chat in the now less-than-homely kitchen at Number Five - how strange it feels for Sheila to be essentially a visitor - then she invites him to Number Ten since she has a key and they can sit down there. In the Corkhills’ illegal granny flat, their discussion delves into both their recent failures and the tone is a little blaming. Voices are raised, as often happens when the Grants get into it, and Barry storms out of the granny flat… only for both of them to see that Billy has been quietly pottering away in the kitchen the other side of the door, having been able to hear every word. And all three look embarrassed. Later, when Barry leaves the Close, having made peace with Sheila, Billy, too is there to wave him off. Barry even thanks him for the “nosebag” (it appears Billy has prepared him a packed lunch for the road). The quiet respect between Barry and Billy, and Barry’s apparent acceptance of the growing closeness between his mother and Billy is yet more fascinating considering the borderline Oedipal relationship at times between Barry and Sheila… certainly when it came to the jealous rivalry between Barry and Bobby.
continued...
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Episodes 591 - 615
27 June - 19 September 1988
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27 June - 19 September 1988
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In other Corkhill business, Tracy has turned eighteen, and there was a nice little sequence where Jamie called Billy into the granny flat, ostensibly to look at something that needed repair, but really to ask for a loan in order to buy Tracy a present. Billy obliges, and gives him more money on top to buy everyone a drink at the party. I bloody love the relationship between Billy and Jamie. It’s so watchable and there are many layers. Like with Barry, it’s one of mutual respect, even though Billy is necessarily more authoritative with Jamie at times in order to keep him in check - particularly when it comes to protecting Tracy’s virtue. Billy having been a wild one in his younger days (and having his moments in the time he’s been onscreen) no doubt gives him empathy and an understanding that allows for mutual connection.
Rod’s been given a rough time at work. First he witnessed the aftermath of police brutality (towards someone who’d previously attacked an officer), and being pressured into “forgetting” it. Secondly has come Tommo’s stabbing during a raid. Both these incidents have challenged his idealism in some way, but they’ve also provided a strange sort of balance. In the aftermath of Tommo’s stabbing, Rod essentially said that the best form of defence against criminals is a good offence, as good as saying that his colleagues’ earlier violence towards a captive was justified. Rod’s wide-eyed naivety has been an endearing part of his character. It’s fascinating to have seen him grow and become more worldly since joining the force, but also a little sad to see him affected by cynicism.
The Collinses have had a fair amount of screen time recently. Not only has there been the business with the gay bashers and Mona going to a new home, but Annabelle has been conducting the most discreet and proper adultery yet seen on the series. In many ways she is the most unlikely candidate for such a story, and I have questioned if it feels more situation-driven than character-based. Certainly, there was initially a lot going on that has made Annabelle’s home life intolerable, giving her motive. Her travelling for courses, interacting with new people and the interest from a colleague who is everything Paul isn’t have given her opportunity. Now it’s been going on for a little while, there’s more of a suggestion that she’s simply enjoying not just the affair but the danger. I don’t remember exactly how it all plays out, but it’s been one of the more watchable storylines outside the Grant/Corkhill households.
Jonathan, too, has been getting lovey-dovey, having pursued Cheryl back to Canada and interrupted her wedding rehearsal. Thinking about it, there are similarities between the Jonathan/Cheryl/Deburau triangle and the Paul/Annabelle/Brian triangle. Not least, both women being committed to somewhat eccentric older men, and lured away by someone their own age who is more grounded and direct. Funny I didn’t notice this as I watched the episodes in which both stories played out alongside each other. In each case, I’ve ended up feeling bad for the older man who does appear to love the woman in question and who doesn’t seem to stand a chance against their more traditionally romantic rival.
Anyway, Jonathan, having won Cheryl’s hand they’ve been seen in some of the most beautiful scenery and simultaneously heard delivering possibly the most banal dialogue this series has yet produced. My favourite came as they stood together in turquoise water under the blazing sun, wearing bathing suits and kissing:
Cheryl said:
Jonathan said:
Cheryl said:
Jonathan said:
In fact, I’ve noticed a fair bit of clichéd writing or production going on in this run. Most notably, the business of dealing with characters who aren’t onscreen during a particular episode. Usually when this happens, it’s not a big deal. They might be mentioned, but it’s been a bit sledgehammer and arguably patronising here. One example is the scene in which Barry arrives at Number Ten with Sheila inside. Once inside the front door he turns out and calls out his goodbye to the unseen Terry. It just felt artificial and unnecessary. In another scene, Barry pulls up his Matra Rancho to offer Jamie a lift. Not only is Barry talking to the unseen/unheard Claire in the back seat, once Jamie gets aboard he turns to the back seat and says hello to her. Again, there’s no response, but the camera looks at back at him almost with Claire’s POV. Both of these examples actually drew attention to the fact that the actor wasn’t present and felt quite amateurish.
There was also a third example where Terry - in the kitchen of Number Nine - heard footsteps coming down the stairs and went through to speak to Jonathan, only to hear the door slam and we see Jonathan’s Volvo pulling away. I didn’t mind this one quite as much, and thought it was creative enough. Certainly compared with the two examples above.
Terry’s only been driving his taxi for five minutes and oh my god is it boring. His run of bad luck with fare dodgers and the unbalanced aggressor glueing his head to the windscreen felt like it was shown in minute detail. It all reeks of the writers being at a loss when it comes to using the character. Logic would say either the character or the writers have run their course. I’d opt for the former.
Over at the Rogers household, Geoff’s disappearance felt as though it went on forever. And I was watching at a rate of one or two episodes most evenings. I’m still mixed with the family. Geoff and Bumper are surprisingly watchable and, curiously, Geoff actually seems to generate most of the storylines in the house. Chrissy’s had a nice couple of moments, reading Harry the riot act for using their bath while they were on holiday, and physically attacking Geoff in anger. There’s been a nice little thread with Sammy becoming less visible in the household because of her parents’ focus on Geoff’s problems (which all screams “special educational need”, but this is through a 2025 prism and with the benefit of having seen the storyline before - even though I cannot consciously remember it). With Katie wisely kept off screen for most of the time (Chrissy even prophetically commented that the absent Katie would “lose her head one of these days”), the energies mostly work. Still, the whole family feels like a bit of a second tier compromise. And I have to say that in spite of the decent performance, each time Frank starts talking union stuff, I miss Bobby even more.
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Episodes 616 - 630
21 September - 9 November 1988
21 September - 9 November 1988
Read into this what you will, but I finished watching the latest selection of dropped episodes several days ago and have only just realised that I hadn’t posted anything about it. And now a good deal of what I’ve seen has faded from memory.
Number Ten seems the obvious place to start. Moving the Grants out of Number Five, has cemented the Corkhills’ place as the series’ First Family. If there’s something of interest happening, it’s invariably going to be here.
I’m pleased to say that I haven’t hated Sheila’s arrival in the house, as I feared might be the case way ahead of time. It is a little contrived and convenient, but the performances make the story work, and the onscreen chemistry is the clincher. Sheila and Billy as a pairing would have been unthinkable a fairly short time ago in screen time, but there’s just something that makes the viewer root for them (even Barry can see something between them, even though nothing is overtly said). If nothing else, these two deserve a break and a bit of happiness.
To remind us we’re on to a good thing, Kathy is there to remind us of what Billy doesn’t need. She’s decided she wants him - and confides this in Sheila herself - but underneath it all is a sense that it’s for the wrong reasons, and it just doesn’t feel right. Kathy’s been a really interesting combination in some of these episodes. She’s manipulated Billy into inviting Sheila to stay, but it’s tempered by her good intentions. She wants to save Sheila from a bedsit worse than death and she’s such a good friend she willingly removed herself from the household, suffering staying with the sister she can’t stand to make room for Sheila. It’s very sweet, in a Kathy kind of way, and this sweetness adds layers to things when she decides she has designs on her on-off-lover’s brother. He’s been kind to her, so it all makes sense, even if we can see there’s no future.
As for Jimmy himself, his return episodes have a curiosity factor owing to the fact he was evidently stepping into scenes that were intended for Jamie. Having scanned over Phil Redmond’s book recently I remembered that the blow up in front of cast and crew which resulted in Redmond giving Sean McKee his marching orders happened over Sean protesting about a scene involving a shrunken t-shirt, so as soon as Jamie pulled his t-shirt out of the washing machine I realised this was his final episode.
Even more bizarrely, Jimmy could be viewed as also filling in for Sinbad during this time, taking on a window washing escapade in the Close in which a bottle of perfume he is attempting to pilfer from the Collinses bathroom windowsill is dropped onto the sink, smashing it, leading to an escapade where he replaces the Collinses bathroom suite (avocado, naturally) with the suite from the now-empty Number Five, which takes up half the night (Annabelle’s expression of distaste at the champagne colour was made to Sheila of all people). The series having its own bank of rogues and scallies comes into its own here, because it could have been Jimmy, Jamie or Sinbad with barely any change to the script.
It’s actually the intersecting scenes which give away how this was originally intended to look: Jamie doesn’t show up to meet Tracy after work, to her fury, which gives her boss the opportunity to further sexually harass her. Knowing Jamie was meant to be caught up with the bathroom suite business, adds a nice undercurrent of pathos. In the final product, though, one scene has nothing to do with the other, and we simply learn a short time later that Jamie has got himself a job in Scotland offscreen. And that’s that. The loss of Jamie is another blow to a series that’s had more than its share in the last twelve months or so.
Rod’s policing continues to bring an element of The Bill to the series. He’s still facing a moral dilemma over whether or not to speak up over the police brutality he’s seen, and Tommo’s been stabbed whilst on a raid with Rod. In a nice touch, it’s Sheila who mentions in passing that it was Tommo who had brought her the news of Damon’s death.
Upon Sheila’s arrival, much was made of Tracy’s unhappiness over it - little was said, but there were some very stony looks exchanged. The two have bonded quickly, though. Likewise, Julia’s little comments quickly dampened down. The Hallowe’en party Tracy threw for Claire was a breath of fresh air. Tracy, Julia and Sheila are certainly an interesting combination, and with Julia at her shrillest and most vibrant there was a sense of fun to the proceedings.
Has Chrissy Rogers been working in the estate agents this whole time? It was news to me, but it certainly proved very handy when it came to them learning that Harry was planning to sell Number Seven out from under them. When she’s written as shrewd and smart, I do enjoy Chrissy, and when Harry looked set to refuse their offer on the house, her sneaky (if probably illegal) gambit of making a second, lower offer anonymously, knowing that Harry would probably accept it was an example of this.
Frank’s union stuff is becoming a low-key disappointment for me. The reason remains the same: it’s simply because he isn’t Bobby. It should help that his approach and methods are different, but it’s small consolation. His sabotage of the executive washroom gave me mixed feelings. On the one hand it has the air of rebellion that was so prevalent in early Brookie. On the other, it seemed unlikely he would have been kept on after that stunt. I just don’t believe he’s viewed as that indispensable, especially given his recent trouble with the stolen lorry.
It’s difficult not to look at Geoff’s difficulties through a 21st Century prism and wonder how on earth nobody seems to have considered some kind of SEND. Perhaps we’re a bit too aware of that these days, though, and too quick to grab some kind of label. Somewhere in between the two lies sanity.
Meanwhile, Sammy’s had her braces fitted and is off on demos. I well remember Sunetra Sarker as Sammy’s friend Nisha - in fact this is the first thing I think of whenever I see or hear of her - but my goodness. I can’t get over how young she looks and sounds here.
At Number Eight, the Collinses have a lot going on. Annabelle’s affair is heating up and now Sheila has been put on the spot by finding out about it (she enjoyed a sneaky little smile at Annabelle’s embarrassment).
I find myself wondering about the circumstances surrounding Stiffyn Parri’s departure. He simply vanished, and now Christopher’s character is being somewhat sullied with Gordon suspecting Chris and the friend who died of AIDS were more than friends. As I write, Gordon is hanging on the telephone, waiting to find out the results of his HIV test. If not compelling, it is proving watchable enough.
To celebrate the series’ Sixth Anniversary, Terry has proposed to Sue. I can’t help but feel the best days are now behind it.
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Episodes 631 - 657*
14 November 1988 - 13 February 1989
14 November 1988 - 13 February 1989
The doorstep to Brookie’s Number Ten** has yielded some of the series’ most memorably tense, dramatic or plain dysfunctional confrontations. Despite her long association with the other side of the Close, a surprising number of these have involved Sheila: from her initial exchange with Marie Jackson back in the legendary episode #124, to putting Doreen firmly in her place when the Corkhills were newcomers themselves; to the slap from Bobby that drove a nail into her marital coffin.
Another is added to the list in this run when Sheila forcibly ejects Julia from Number Ten after discovering Julia has lied about Doreen returning home for Christmas. It’s every bit as entertaining as I would expect from these two. Julia is such a broad character, it would be easy to criticise her for being a caricature, far removed from the series’ original vision. The fact is, though, that Gladys Ambrose brings such a sparkling energy to every scene she is invariably a sight for sore eyes, and Julia/Sheila scenes are particularly entertaining, going back at least to the “I could fill a book with what I know about the Corkhills” scene almost two years earlier.
Thinking about these earlier exchanges has really brought home to me just how much Sheila is truly on the other side of the fence these days. In her exchange with Marie, Sheila was critical about the Jacksons living in Number Ten “like a load of gypsies”, bragging that her children had “a home they can call their own”. In her first showdown with Julia, Sheila had disclosed her knowledge of the black market bricks used to build the Corkhills garage. Now Sheila and Claire are, to all intents and purposes, homeless and staying in that very garage. Driving her frosty exchange with Doreen was the fact that Doreen had used knowledge about Sheila to get at Bobby. This time round, her outraged fury appears to be largely driven by a kind of protectiveness towards Doreen’s husband.
In this current exhange, there is a pleasing undercurrent of ambiguity to both Julia and Sheila’s motives.
Julia argues that she lied about Doreen’s return to protect her grandchildren from Billy’s new girlfriend, Linda (the writing leans into making her rather strident and unlikeable, not primarily because she is a threat to Rod and Tracy, nor even to the hope of Doreen returning, but because thanks to groundwork that has been laid for a long time, we unconsciously recognise that she’s a threat to any potential there may be between Billy and Sheila. And so we’re kind of relieved when she goes).
Sheila is quick to point out, though, that Julia was aiming to get two birds with one stone: Doreen’s return meant Sheila felt obligated to hastily arrange new accommodation, which would leave the path clear for Julia to claim the vacant “granny flat” in the garage of Number Ten she feels is hers.
And this is where there’s some ambiguity in Sheila’s own motives. She arguably sees through Julia’s scheme because she herself is thinking outside of the box and has her own hopes, if not plans. She is clearly outraged because of the impact Julia’s agenda will have on the Corkhills, but also because she herself has been greatly inconvenienced. Which angers her more isn’t always clear.
All the same, there’s something a little heartening about Billy witnessing her anger about the situation without her initially realising, blinded by the ongoing heated row she is having with Julia. Given the groundwork mentioned above, this feels like a step in the right direction. And Billy comes through for Sheila. When she decides she will move out anyway as she’s already paid a significant deposit, it’s Billy who asks questions to find out her payment method, then simply shrugs and suggests she should cancel it. It’s very low key, but something has changed and it quietly tells us that the arrangement is changing, and Billy is happy with it.
Then comes the Twixtmas event which I believe marked the first time more than two half hour episodes were shown in a week. In fact it jumped to five episodes**, with the fifth culminating in Billy and Sheila’s kiss. The awkwardness - and chemistry - immediately following and especially leading up to this moment had me invested.
The Sheila/Billy pairing has been quite a ride for me as a viewer. When I began this rewatch, my vague memories told me that it didn’t work for me - that it felt a forced and rather clichéd way of keeping Sheila on the Close. Watching this time, with the benefits of knowing what’s coming, of having over three and a half decades more life experience (then I was at school. Now I’m older than either Billy or Sheila) and of discussing it in this thread, I was surprised to find this storyline working for me. With the groundwork for this story laid well ahead of time, I was rooting for them to get together. And not just a little bit.
Then it happened, and very quickly I found myself beginning to view it the same way I had before this rewatch.
continued…
* It’s with Brookie’s five day week - where a couple of episodes repeat the same number with an “A” or “B” suffix - that the episode numbering stops being simple and linear. There is a confusing divergence between the official and unofficial episode count. If you think the Dallas season numbering is a headache, it’s nothing compared with this. I may regret this, but I’m going with what the website classes as the official count, as opposed to the (unofficial?) one STV are using. For reference Episode 657 in the header is STV’s Episode 660.
** Perhaps I’m overthinking but, given the many overt criticisms of the country’s leadership the series has made, I find myself wondering if Brookie’s Number Ten being its most dysfunctional household is symbolic. And it’s only taken me over six years’ worth of episodes to twig.
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Episodes 631 - 657
14 November 1988 - 13 February 1989
continued
14 November 1988 - 13 February 1989
continued
Surprisingly, the point of no return for me was one of the most important. And written by Jimmy McGovern to boot. It also happens to take place over the two finest episodes of this run (the other being the follow-up episode, also written by Jimmy Mac).
Sheila and Billy’s initial exchange is nicely done, with them almost circling one another warily and giving concise responses. When it comes, the dialogue leans into reflective and a little whimsical, which isn’t always a bad thing as it tells plenty about the characters. Take that terrific, lengthy, character-driven scene by the Mersey.
The composition is so atmospherically bleak-looking it’s quite beautiful: in the foreground, Sheila wears black and Billy wears a greyish jacket. Immediately behind them is an even greyer barrier. Then the grey Mersey under a grey sky. Sheila’s cream coloured brolly looks almost cheerful against this. The only true colour comes from a red stripe on the grey-white ferry that passes them in the background.
In turn, each of them speaks reflectively about their past, and how it informs the present.
Billy said:
Sheila said:
In Sheila’s dialogue above, I FINALLY spotted the McGovernism highlighted by James, when Sheila repeatedly says “If I sleep with you, Billy…” (and I was so in the moment when watching, I only spotted this as I rewatched this scene to write this up). I think she also says “Oh Billy, please…” Several times.
This, though, also points to one of the episode’s arguable weak spots. Jimmy Mac’s gift to writing has been to find the poetry in everyday language, and working it in believably. This episode leans heavily into that angle, but there were a couple of moments throughout where I was a little conscious of the writing, and sometimes at the expense of character when they start talking in clichés. Most notable of these for me was where Sheila came to find Billy at the same spot next to the Mersey. “I knew you’d be here”, she says of the spot where they’d stood together just once, eight or nine screen minutes earlier. Billy returns the compliment with some purple prose about the river flowing for millions of years and continuing to do so for millions of years after they’re dead and gone. Sheila even finishes his line for him. Then Billy reflects some more about how he’s always grafted and not been a thinker, and so on. And by this time it started to feel rather more like self-indulgent navel-gazing. And it makes little clichés seen elsewhere in the episodes - such as Sheila predictably dropping the mugs when reaching into the cupboard to reflect how frazzled she is - feel less forgivable and even lazy (being über-critical, this could equally extend to performance. In a couple of key moments, I noticed Sue Johnston enunciating in a way that Sheila Grant usually doesn’t: pronouncing “t”s at the end of words that I would expect to be dropped. Likewise, Billy shouting “I love her” to Barry felt too heightened and melodramatic for me to fully invest).
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- Awards
- 46
Episodes 631 - 657
14 November 1988 - 13 February 1989
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14 November 1988 - 13 February 1989
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The key almost-jump-the-shark moment for me came in between the two Mersey scenes. The very next time we see Billy and Sheila, she appears in her dressing gown and leads him to her annexe. There are a couple of nice little directional touches: I love Sheila moving the pan with Billy’s boil-in-the-bag curry off the hob, and curiously was drawn to the empty wire coat hanger that could be seen hanging on the annexe wall from our view in the kitchen, there’s also a brief look of anxiety that flashes over Billy’s face in close up that becomes more significant in the next scene where we learn that Billy had performance anxiety. Still, though, something just didn’t sit comfortably with me.
I’m still unsure exactly how I feel about Sheila’s sudden about-face regarding sex, and perhaps that’s the point. Is it a brilliant depiction of what happens when someone whose life has been entirely informed by the teachings of the Catholic church finds something else in her heart? Or is it simply losing sight of the character? And can both things be true at once?
It’s one thing to get to this point with words - Sheila’s discussions with Father Gibbons and Margaret, or the deep and meaningfuls between Sheila and Billy - but when the action follows this quickly, it’s a lot. As well as being out of character, it feels rushed. And again, perhaps that’s the point.
One benefit of this feeling for me is it put me on the same page as Barry when at the start of the very next episode he walked into the annexe to find Sheila and Billy in bed. It’s another soap cliché that involves a degree of contrivance. Barry is just wandering round Number Ten by himself even though he doesn’t live there (we’re later told - out of necessity - that Rod let him in, but this doesn’t help. Wouldn’t Billy and Sheila have heard their exchange?). And he strolls equally casually into the annexe. The biggest contrivance is that this is the very first time Barry has seen Sheila since she and Billy have effectively become a couple, and of course it’s worst case scenario. There’s a lot of character, but somehow it also feels a little plot-driven and - again - rushed.
Of course, Barry’s relationship with Sheila is a complex one, which completely pays off in that initial episode. The almost-Oedipal jealous rivalry between he and Bobby has been one of the deepest, richest veins in the series. That can be seen to a degree in his treatment of Billy after the relationship has been explicitly confirmed to him. There are new twists, though. Firstly is his disappointment in Sheila. There is a sense that she has betrayed him, as well as her own principles. When he tells her “Don’t you ever lecture me again”. He touches on girlfriends of which she’s disapproved and the like, but really there’s a deep well. Her religious convictions weren’t mentioned - certainly not to the extent they could have been, but it certainly crossed my mind that Sheila’s unwavering beliefs had sometimes cost members of the Grant family their happiness… and now, from Barry’s perspective, it would be easy to think she’s hastily pushed them aside for her own happiness, and that of “a scab and a tea leaf”.
The jealousy angle is implicitly acknowledged by Sheila who tells Barry it’s none of his business (I think this is another of those McGovern lines that is repeated a couple of times). There’s a factual truth to it, but it could also be read as a parallel with the archetype of the spouse caught cheating who protests “this wasn't about you”.
Another interesting layer here: Barry seems to genuinely care what Bobby will think. Yes, to an extent he might be invoking Bobby’s name to gain leverage in this righteous war of words, but there’s a sense that his loyalties are with Bobby over Billy, despite it all.
At the heart of it, though, it can be seen that Barry is concerned about Sheila’s wellbeing. This can be felt in his question to Billy - what happens when Doreen comes back? And I can’t wait to see!
So yes, two top tier episodes (even some the other material in the same episodes helps. Rod finding the decaying corpse of the homeless man and deciding that life is too short to let his engagement to Kirsty stop him enjoying himself with that one from Emmerdale and Heartbeat) but once they’re over, the rapid pace begins to go against it. It comes across that the series’ powers that be just wanted to quickly establish the new status quo. Now that it’s practically in place, Billy and Sheila are exchanging goo-goo looks and - beyond these two episodes - I’m actually finding it pretty dull.
Sheila’s faith now sometimes feels almost like a McMuffin. It crops up when friction is needed, then moves away in to the background again as the plot requires. Of course it’s a journey, and things are ebbing and flowing for Sheila as much as for us, but I can’t help feeling we’ve entered territory where things feel predictable, with their first scene of an episode establishing whether this is going to be a lovey-dovey episode or an “Oh Billy, please” one.
It’s easy to see why Barry would make his cutting remarks that Sheila had simply gone across the road to the next available man. Or that Billy had taken advantage of someone who needed him in order to keep a roof over her head. They’ve both done the mating dance slowly and over a long period of time (which was why it seemed so inevitable), that it feels off kilter for them to suddenly embrace it so quickly and completely. This might work in Sons and Daughters, but in Brookside I feel I need more and that two cracking episodes is simply not enough. I’ve previously mentioned questionable motives from both (and Sheila more so), and again I find myself not quite sure on this level.
Sheila telling Terry even Harry Cross, for instance, seems to add cement to the relationship, and yet could also be viewed as adding pressure for it to continue. Likewise, her unpacking her things and filling up the shelves of Number Ten with them (hiding or moving those put there by Doreen) is like a way of letting Rod and Tracy know what’s going on before Billy is ready to tell them (at best it’s thoughtless. She even counters Tracy’s confused reaction by telling her that “there’s plenty of room for them”). One could even cynically take the view that her friendship with Tracy is another way to get into Billy’s good graces. For what it's worth, I don’t believe this is entirely the case - certainly not consciously - on Sheila’s part, but I like that the morality is a little opaque since it adds continued interest now that things have settled down into goo-goo land. And I suppose the fact that I have so much to say about this storyline means there is gold to be mined. Especially since Julia has yet to find out.
I’m also clinging to the fact that - as dysfunctional as the relationship might be, and as blurred as some lines have become - there’s genuine care between Sheila and Billy. And it’s there to be seen.
But I’m glad Barry didn’t shake Billy’s hand when it was offered. I really don’t want this to be too safe and comfortable.
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- Awards
- 46
Episodes 631 - 657
14 November 1988 - 13 February 1989
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14 November 1988 - 13 February 1989
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Not so long ago, soapy contrivance was very much the exception in this series. Increasingly, it’s establishing itself as a hard rule. Barry conveniently walking in on Sheila and Billy is far from the only example. Such contrivance is evident right from the beginning of this run with scenarios as Gordon discovering Annabel and Brian’s affair on his very first day as one of Brian’s employees; or Sue losing her engagement ring almost the moment it’s on her finger; or Jonathan and Cheryl giving a dinner party to which Terry invites Sue last minute… only to discover it’s the former love of Sue’s life; or Harry Cross being completely unaware of the true identity of his house buyers until after they’d completed and “moved in”. They’re all varying degrees of entertaining, but the coincidences and clichés abound and it begins to feel too safe, predictable and workaday while at the same time feeling more like a world that exists in a vacuum - with its own rules and timeframes - than a reflection of the real world.
The fire at Number Nine didn’t exactly set the screen ablaze. It happened. Nobody cared. Jonathan and Cheryl went on holiday. Nobody noticed. They’re back. Nothing’s changed. I have no idea what it meant, what it told us about the characters or how it furthered their stories. Frankly it looks more like the kind of scenario that might be thought up to lure in viewers with an exciting-looking promo in TV Times or trailers, but in execution it just brought nothing to the series.
Conversely, there’s innovation happening in areas where it’s not needed, such as direction. Creative-almost-to-the-point-of-distraction aerial shots early in this run include someone entering Number Ten filmed from across the road (from upstairs in the house used for the canteen, I’d guess); the Rogers kids running round the table in the kitchen and the Rogerses conspiring around the dining table over their last dinner as tenants. It’s a useful enough technique, but overused in a couple of episodes which I assume is down to a bored director (I think it’s one of the Brians - Morgan or Lighthill).
Now that they are house owners on the Close, it feels the Rogerses are pretty established, and this is pretty much what we have and are going to keep getting. And it’s surprising to find that the children in the house are its most watchable assets. Sammy and her friends might not be peak Brookie, but I believe them. Growler is consistently watchable, endearing and played for complete truth (it sounds unbelievable, but he’s the most consistently engaging character of the entire family). Meanwhile, the ghastly, constantly-smirking Katie has gone, the recast already improving the household dynamics noticeably.
Sadly, it's a different story with the adults. Frank’s trade union stuff makes me pine for Ricky Tomlinson. And Chrissy has become increasingly shrill and strident as she’s marched self-righteously through Growler’s dyslexia storyline, pushing to get him the right support. On paper the character has fire. In execution, she’s becoming quite a chore to watch.
There have been some promising moments at the Collinses, with Paul confronting Annabelle and Brian over their affair on Christmas Day. This date dilutes it, since it feels very much like Brookie taking a leaf out of the EastEnders book, but it’s done as gamely as possible. I can’t say the entire story has felt like much more than a time-passer, but it’s certainly an improvement on Barry and Sinbad’s lengthy toy seal arc, and it has made a nice change to see this kind of dysfunction in this household. Poor Paul Collins bursting into tears mid-sentence when going for his lonely Christmas Day walk and trying to keep up appearances was quite touching.
The ensuing War Of The Roses with the bare cupboards and quibbles over whose food belonged to whom, while not entirely unentertaining, has felt unconvincing and daft. It feels the writers once again don’t know quite how to handle this family, so have opted for mocking WASP sensibilities, whilst simultaneously having them behave in ways that are most out of character. Paul’s intimate lunch with Betty in a bid to antagonise Annabelle was perhaps not even a step up from this.
Meanwhile, Gordon has become a greasy second hand car salesman. His revenge on Brian - selling off expensive cars at £150 each - was good fun (even though it required a little suspension of disbelief), but his sudden greed and corruption just isn’t flying.
Coming full circle to Number Ten, Tracy has officially split up from Jamie. There’s an allusion that he’s cheated on her, possibly a treatment determined by the actor’s fall from grace with Phil Redmond. Still, it really wasn’t surprising to learn that Jamie may have found temptation when living in a different city (well a different country, really) for many months without contact, so it all feels organic.
While the Gerrard sexual harassment storyline dragged on a bit, I’m thoroughly enjoying Tracy’s drive to get her job back and stand up for her rights. I can’t remember how this goes, but it’s showing promise.
Another Christmas standard - the surprise baby - was a welcome one when Debbie turned up on the doorstep with baby Simon. I’m beyond pleased that I’d forgotten this twist. The “he lied about me losing the baby” is pure daytime soap, but it still doesn’t feel like a retcon, or that it undoes anything we’ve seen. Perhaps I’m just glad to see a bit of a happy ending for once.
Harry’s got his own new grandchild to swoon over, and I like the tragic element that he’s yet to see him, having been somewhat shut out while Kevin visits by himself to smooth over the cracks.