The original celeb who never knew his place
TV REVIEW
LOUISA PEARSON
Beau Brummell: This Charming Man, BBC4
Saxondale, BBC2
Another day, another programme about the 18th century from BBC4. I feel as if I've learned more about British history in the last couple of weeks than I did in 13 years of schooling. It has been educational but, if truth be told, the season needed an injection of fun to keep us dedicated World Cup-avoiders interested.
Frivolity arrived in the form of Beau Brummell: This Charming Man. My limited grasp of history meant that I was expecting a sombre affair detailing the life of a renowned engineer. Upon my revealing of this thought aloud, my better half rolled his eyes, sighed deeply and said: "You're thinking of Brunel." Ah yes.
Thank heavens I got it wrong, because this drama was just the tonic I needed. As ZZ Top famously said, "every girl's crazy 'bout a sharp-dressed man", and they didn't come sharper than Brummell. In an era when gentlemen wore bouffant wigs, face powder and elaborate costumes, Brummell came along and moved fashion along a step. The original dandy, his demure trousers, shirt and elaborate neckwear soon became London's must-have look, leaving the fops appearing positively overdressed.
James Purefoy was Brummell, madder, badder and more dangerous to know than his chum Byron. I thought that today's celebs being merely famous for being famous was something new, but this programme showed that it has been going on for centuries. Brummell predated and outdid all of the current "it" girls and boys, and was loved purely for his tremendous fashion sense and ability to hobnob with the social elite - most notably the Prince of Wales. "When I am king," declared the Prince, "you will be Prime Minister of Fashion."
The drama was breathily fast-paced - a world away from the traditional period drama - with a strong supporting cast including Hugh Bonneville as the spoilt Prince Royal. I kept wondering what did Brummel do for money. The answer was nothing. And so, as the debts mounted, it became clear that this dandy's partying days were limited.
Poor Brummell, if he was around today he'd be a PR sensation, attending all the best parties and appearing in every celebrity mag. But back in the early 1800s, when you fell out of favour with the upper classes, there was no route back. Having upset the Prince and lacking the modern-day options of a chat-show confession or a stint in rehab, a penniless and friendless Brummell fled to France.
Beau Brummell: This Charming Man captured its subject's spirit with an insightful script, pacy editing and a suitably self-assured turn from the leading man. I really did feel like as if I was witnessing the birth of the craze for celebrity - which might not be a good thing, but it was a lot of fun to watch.
Usually Steve Coogan is equally entertaining, but his new series, Saxondale, creaked a little more slowly into gear. The premise is ideal for Coogan's satirical talents, as he plays Tommy - a former roadie turned pest-control expert with anger management issues.
The trouble is that it takes a while to warm up to Tommy. He's one of those blokes you see standing alone at the bar, eagerly awaiting someone to come up and start a conversation so that he can put them straight about everything. So we've got a central character who's an annoying know-it-all, but somehow the Coogan charm wins through.
The pest-control theme helps in the comedy stakes too: asked about what sorts of creatures he could dispense with, Tommy answered: "If it's sharing your house and it's not paying rent, you've got the right number." This introductory episode laid out Tommy, warts and all, along with his girlfriend Magz - "a goddess in a Pearl Jam T-shirt" - and hapless new assistant Rodney. The storyline meandered towards a pigeon cull in a car park, but the action was really secondary to Tommy's monologues about life, cars and 1970s rock. I think I like it, but I'm not sure why. |
