I was recommended this TV six-parter by my wife who had read the book. It turns out that the book and the series were different, with the name being one of the few points of similarity. It was actually based on a Dutch TV series.
There may be spoilers in this review.
Pete and Evie move into a suburban close in a Yorkshire. Pete is a reporter for the local newspaper and Evie is a teacher, pregnant with a sperm donor’s child. They are greeted by neighbours Becca, an Australian yoga teacher, and her traffic cop husband, the very virile Danny. Becca and Danny are swingers. When Evie has a miscarriage, Becca and Danny console her and Pete, but Evie has the hots for Danny (strong sperm) and so she persuades B&D that she and Pete are up for a swinger session, which he isn’t, sitting next door with his head in his hands while Pete and Evie have sex leading, inevitably, to Evie becoming pregnant.
(As an aside, an interesting sociological fact is that the ubiquity of bare female breasts in the 1970s has now been superseded by the near-ubiquity of bare male buttocks in TV dramas. There was a time when there seemed to be an equivalence - for every glimpse of female breast we’ll show a glimpse of male bottom - but now the male nakedness preponderates.)
There may be spoilers in this review.
Pete and Evie move into a suburban close in a Yorkshire. Pete is a reporter for the local newspaper and Evie is a teacher, pregnant with a sperm donor’s child. They are greeted by neighbours Becca, an Australian yoga teacher, and her traffic cop husband, the very virile Danny. Becca and Danny are swingers. When Evie has a miscarriage, Becca and Danny console her and Pete, but Evie has the hots for Danny (strong sperm) and so she persuades B&D that she and Pete are up for a swinger session, which he isn’t, sitting next door with his head in his hands while Pete and Evie have sex leading, inevitably, to Evie becoming pregnant.
In the words of the Guardian reviewer: “The Couple Next Door staggers under the weight of its dull, unnecessary subplots."
- Creepy neighbour Alan is obsessed with Becca, spying on her and joining her Yoga class; he breaks into her house and obtains a video of Becca making love to another swinging couple which he posts online.
- Danny already has another son by a previous relationship about whom Becca doesn’t know. To provide for this son he takes on dodgy moonlighting jobs ... leading to a bank robbery and an ending with guns and violence.
- Pete is writing a story about local corruption, a story which inevitably dovetails with Danny's misdemeanours.
This is another example of a TV series which starts with an interesting premise and the prospect of a strong story about relationships and trust and betrayal, about the need to reproduce trumping love for an infertile partner. The trouble is that TV producers don't actually believe that viewers will watch something focused on characters. They think viewers demand action, action, action. And in the end there is so much happening that any coherence is lost and the characters become utterly subservient to the plot. Nevertheless, Pete's humiliation - the weedy guy with non-viable sperm being cuckolded by the hunky and overly fertile neighbour - was palpable ... until he picked up a gun and became preposterous.
The drama was also repeatedly undermined by moments of total implausibility, starting with the fact that the couple next door lived across the street. A street that looked wrong: as the Lancashire Post said “wooden shingles, clapboard construction and palm trees gently waving in the breeze aren't exactly Pennine vernacular.” (Apparently it was filmed in the Netherlands in a street with a US-vibe). The Guardian questions how a local journalist and a primary school teacher could afford such a nice house. It got worse. The cop is incredibly well-muscled despite never going to the gym. The villains leave the office in the deserted warehouse unlocked. To give Alan carte blanche for his creepy activities upstairs, Alan's wife can't climb the stairs (she has a stick) even though whenever the cameras are rolling she is upright and she can easily cross the road. Meanwhile Alan is surprised when he discovers that his wife has installed a stair-lift ... while he was upstairs. Is he deaf?
More intriguingly, is the hypocrisy encapsulated in this film. Hugh Dennis plays the creepy pervert Alan whose fundamental crime is to be turned on by the sight of his naughty neighbours having sex ... and then to publish it. But the TV producers are selling their product by publishing images of actors having (simulated) sex. Furthermore, the critics lap this up. The Scotsman’s reviewer said: “Tomlinson and Heughan are sexy actors being sexy and who doesn’t want to see that?” The Guardian said: “The plot ... might be flimsy – but who cares when there’s so much sexual tension between our flirtatious foursome?” The Daily Mail says: “All we ask from this type of formulaic domestic thriller is some heavy petting, a lurid subplot or two, and a murderous denouement.” So who are the perverts: Alan, the reviewers, or the producers themselves?
(As an aside, an interesting sociological fact is that the ubiquity of bare female breasts in the 1970s has now been superseded by the near-ubiquity of bare male buttocks in TV dramas. There was a time when there seemed to be an equivalence - for every glimpse of female breast we’ll show a glimpse of male bottom - but now the male nakedness preponderates.)
The Guardian gave it four stars, despite what it called a flimsy plot, because of the sexual tension. The Telegraph (3 stars) called it "nonsensical, ridiculous – and very, very bingeable". The Times called it cliched and The Observer "a bog-standard thriller".
Comments
Post a Comment