26 April 1965-21 April 1971
Episodes 126; 496-500; 986; 1009; 1182; 1192; 1304; 1366; 1481
continued
For this viewer, most of the evidence of the lower budget is actually evidence of how strong this series is. Shooting “as live” gives it a theatrical edge with the kind of exciting energy that actors carry in this kind of situation. I dare say that this series really separated the wheat from the chaff when it came to both aptitude and nerves of actors of all experiences. I thoroughly enjoy watching one scene knowing that those in the next scene are already awaiting their cue (yes - there have been plenty of those moments
Acorn Antiques really drew our attention to, with actors holding still on camera, looking behind the camera before the cue comes and they start moving. But I find it endearing).
What’s more, the lack of retake does mean plenty of lines have been tripped over or even talked over by a scene fellow. But I love that characters in this series don’t follow the conventions of those in higher budget series. When one stops to think about it, isn’t it rather bizarre that in many naturalistic, kitchen sink dramas most characters still speak in turn. They don’t speak over one another. They deliver every line clearly without seeming to think about it. And they never seem to fumble over what to say. It’s enough to give a person an inferiority complex. Give me
Xrds with its relatable, occasionally awkward air of “Sorry, I thought you’d finished speaking”/“Oops, that didn’t quite come out right” any day.
One choice I’ve found both surprising and interesting has been that of using incidental music. There’s been everything from variations of the
Xrds theme to quirky comedy music and Herrmannesque highly dramatic strings for big reveals (I’m still unsure if some of these are funny by design or accident).
Watching only selected episodes has highlighted the occasional borderline outlandishness of the plots. In one episode, a young blind woman is about to undergo surgery which may help her see. Only on the day of the surgery is she told that afterwards she’ll have to lie flat on the bed for some time (she seems to readily accept this, while I found myself wondering about practicalities, like how will she eat and poop). We leave her lying in the darkened hospital room, cotton pads bandaged over her eyes. In the next episode on the disc, we return to the darkened hospital room and see the figure lying with cotton pads and bandages over the eyes… only for me to realise that this time it’s a man. We don’t quite know what’s happened to him until we cut to Meg who helpfully exposits perhaps the most
Acorn Antiques line of this whole batch:
Meg said:
It’s all my fault. I never should have swerved to avoid that cat.
As a cat lover and owner, this line put Meg temporarily out of favour with me… until I remembered that this brutally cold comment was a step up from the terrible ghost stuff she’d been doing while the poor girl was preparing for her surgery.
The hospital episodes have been full of delightful cliches, such as the stern Sister trying to separate the nurse and patient who have developed feelings. And of course the stuff that only seems logical from a dramatic standpoint. One of the blind people (I forget which) is told that doctors will remove one eye patch at a time. The other will be removed at a later date. This is in order to make the process gradual. Like, couldn’t they just use a dimmer switch or a lamp with a low wattage bulb for a few days?!
Many characters have come and gone. There are Diane’s boyfriends. Meg’s husbands. And a raft of mysterious men (the guy who we know is evil because he wears sunglasses indoors; the kitchen worker who looks like Andrew Garfield who claims to have been travelling with the forces but knows worryingly little about Delhi when quizzed by someone who’s actually been there; et al). In a recent episode I did think young David Hunter had appeared (or at least the actor, since this character is named Alan), but it’s just someone who looks rather like Ronald Allen (though he was tellingly un-stiff, now I think about it).
There have been all manner of familiar faces: Audrey from
Corrie, obviously. Then there’s posh Yvonne from
Hi-de-Hi! who with dark, long hair looks remarkably like Cornelia Frances (she had much screen time in episode 496 - the first I watched - spending much time deep in reflective thought for reasons that were apparent only to her. Fortunately, the brief run of consecutive episodes eventually explained that she’d just tried to kill herself). Also appearing is Leclerc from
‘Allo ‘Allo.
Perhaps it’s me knowing about the Reg Watson connection, but
Xrds does feel remarkably like
Neighbours in many ways. Partly it’s the motel/hotel complex thing, I’m sure, but it’s also the structure of the series with its short-lived characters brought in to shake up the status quo. I really first got this
Neighbours-type tone with the slightly comedic sequence in which Marilyn was trying to dump a persistent beau from the army. Meanwhile his friend and senior officer was also unhappy with the relationship and got a girl to pretend to be said beau's distraught wife. The girl happened to be an old school chum of Marilyn and they went off to chat, with Marilyn learning the truth but deciding to play along as it's the perfect way to get him out of the picture. At the same time, the beau's army friend convinced him that ending the relationship would be in his best interests, and so the beau, too, went along with the scheme. It was farcical and wouldn't feel out of place in a sit-com. It was deceptively layered with lots of different character stuff to keep up with, but it never felt complex enough to lose the audience's attention. It was good, clean, daft fun that could have taken place in Daphne's Coffee Shop as easily as the foyer of the Crossroads Motel.
And with episodes that run for barely twenty minutes,
Xrds is also proving as easily digestible as its antipodean descendant.
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