And behind door number 22... a guide to some music of the more traditional kind
Catherine Munn and Jacob Martin list their Top 5 programmes to watch over the festive period.
And behind door number nine... some dazzling musical delights
The complete arts guide, for week 9
Just thinking about the cast list for State of Play makes me go all weak at the knees. Oh, starring roles for John Simm and David Morrissey are just the tip of the iceberg: Philip Glenister plays a police officer a good couple of years before he became Gene Hunt; a surprisingly young James McAvoy and Kelly MacDonald are two young journalists; and to top it all off, Bill Nighy is the editor of a broadsheet newspaper. In all honestly, the script would have had to have been spectacularly bad for me not to love State of Play.
And, of course, it isn’t. Starting with two deaths (a political researcher falls under a train, while a teenager is shot in what seems to be a drugs-related killing), the story follows the MP who employed the researcher and the broadsheet investigative journalists who look into both these deaths. There’s more to both than first appears, and things are further complicated by the friendship between the MP and one of the head journalists. Over six glorious hours, the script is consistently tense and surprising. There are some real stand-out sections, in particular a thrilling “stop the presses” moment, and the devastating denouement between the two main characters.
If you’re intelligent and discerning enough to read The Yorker, you’re clearly intelligent and discerning enough to see that this is basically the perfect cast list for a British drama (barring the absence of Hugh Bonneville, of course.) Of the supporting roles, a fresh-faced James McAvoy really stands out as the young journalist trying to prove himself to the editor, while Kelly McDonald’s Della is a nice moral centre for the group of investigators. Philip Glenister is, of course, brilliant, although his DCI William Bell is about as far away from DCI Gene Hunt as two police officers can get. And Bill Nighy is at his most 'Bill Nighy-like' as the editor of the Herald (essentially the Guardian); he is given all the best lines and relishes them in the amazing way that only he can. Nighy is basically one of my favourite things in the world, and every time he did his little snort laugh and donned those thick-rimmed glasses, I was reminded of exactly why.
But the real centre of State of Play isn’t all the politics or the excitement of working as an investigative journalist. No, what lies at the very heart of this is the relationship between Cal McCaffrey and Stephen Collins, played with all the skill and class you’d expect from John Simm and David Morrissey. It’s fascinating to watch as their two characters attempt to balance their friendship with their respective roles as journalist and politician. Simm and Morrissey are utterly brilliant, in particular Morrissey as a man whose world is unravelling around him, and when either is on screen, or more especially when they’re together, it’s impossible to take your eyes off it.
Tense, classy and utterly compelling, State of Play is six of the best hours of TV the BBC has ever produced. And that’s only partly down to the inherent brilliance of Bill Nighy.
I like this article and agree that State of Play rocks. The film is good but just not in the same league.
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