Maybe I'm just getting old. Or woefully jaded. Perhaps both. For UK TV viewers, the Christmas schedule seemed a little bit lacking. Ok, so we had Doctor Who donning a bra and French & Saunders popped up to remind us that despite having been on the box for thirty years, they are still capable of providing a chuckle or two.
It's Corrie that we are bothered about though and I was looking forward to sinking into a post-mince pies and prosecco fug of cobbles-based bonhomie. Instead, by 9pm I was feeling a little irritated although that could have simply been the culmination of sprouts and stuffing. Boxing Day's episode fared little better.
The Corrie Christmas appeared to be one devoid of . . . well, Christmas. Not much in the way of family fun, half-ruined dinners and people having downed one sherry too many. Instead we were treated to the eternally whimpering, simpering Billy. In true Corrie style he's made the journey from decent bloke to miserable wretch in a short space of time. True, he had to put with his boyfriend's fake scar and the add-on daughter Summat (and nowt) but even so.
Then we have the Barlows, desperately trying to remember which version of Susan to mourn. Was it the one with the Scottish accent from the early eighties, the one gamely trying to deliver a line in the mid-eighties or the forgettable one with the perm? It didn't matter. Ken slipped into Mafia Don mode ("Don! Don!" - ooh is that the Ivy-shaped Ghost of Corrie Past rattling her handbag?) and rallied the troops. He then appeared, as threatening as a 90 year old blonde could be, at Billy's bedside, verbally slinging a horse's head at him.
A slight burst of sympathy for the Rev. Mayhew. Having suffered the attentions of Don Barleone, the poor man also had to contend with a visit from the unlovely Eileen. Tethered like a grim barrage balloon, she sucked the joy out of numerous scenes as we have now come to expect. Glum mouth, disapproving eyes - Eileen wouldn't recognise a laugh if it coshed her around the head. We can only hope for dear old Pat to splat her in 2018. Please please please. After she had been wheeled off stage right, other Barlows seemed to appear like avenging angels. I half-expected the late Val and Uncle Albert to put in an appearance.
There were other moments to savour. A woefully underused Liz offered up her car on Christmas Day. Eh? When did she learn to drive? Back in the days when a man walked in front of the vehicle waving a flag? More importantly, where does she keep this car? Down her cleavage? In a scene worthy of Acorn Antiques, we saw Liz creep around the corner of the Street at around 3 mph. Priceless.
Elsewhere my heart sank through several feet of Christmas pud as Rio Rita bustled into view, cackling on about the jukebox not working. "Here we go . . ." I thought. How about you give us a song Reet? "What, little old me?" said the Primark Ethel Merman. Luckily for us, Eva muscled in on the scene and rescued us from something that no one could have stomached at 9pm on Christmas Day.
Gail provided the only real laughs over Christmas with her spirited rendition of Dean Friedman's Lucky Stars. Carla fluttered around and made little real impression in what was a low key return. Steve and Tracey's afternoon delight revolted Amy (and me) but seemingly most of the cast was missing in action - Tyrone, Kevin, Izzy, Chesney, Sinead of the Soap, Sean (oh well . . .), Sally, Tim - where were they? Probably queuing at Billy's bedside behind the Barlow Cosa Nostra. Be afraid.
By Clinkers to Riddle
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6 comments:
So, I guess you didn’t like it. ;)
I kinda enjoyed the Chrimbo episodes. Oh yes, there were weak spots. I detest the cry baby Billy has become — one can be emotional and empathetic, as a clergyman should be, without whining — but I love how Peter worked out a (ridiculous) plan that stayed within his post return zen. It’s Rosie’s birthday as well as David’s, but instead of the Webster/Metcalf balance of zany fun and worry for Faye, we got the Platts. Someone shoulda gotten Max a chemistry set because that family really needs some. Stupid Sarah, dimwit Gail, no call no card Nick, and pointless Dona. Right now, David the dog is their only spark.
In spite of the flaws, there were enough bright spots for me. Carla and her mystery tea totalling returned but so did Eileen’s brain after a 15 year absence. And then there was the force that is the Barlows. Peter always delivers but this time Ken was bloody brilliant (Ken Barleone, LOL!!) and so was Tracy; I never thought I’d say that. Least involved Daniel managed some great lines and we saw the return of the Simon and Amy capers. Heck, even thoroughly annoying Brian redeemed himself by turning around and sticking his hands up in the end.
Not the best Christmas eps ever but a thumbs up from me.
Pretty rough Corrie Christmas. I must say, though, I liked Ken's grip on the proceedings. Peter, who has been seriously misused since his return, came up trumps. Ken and Peter together are brilliant. Kick the pointless Toyah out of the way and we can get back to the good stuff. Great write-up, by the way.
Took Eileen 30 seconds to sus that it was Peter that tossed the poor vicar off the cliff and barged over to the Barlows all huff and puff. Ridiculous. Does she go to the cops with her suspicions? Nope..as usual. And of course something 'miraculously' broke Billy's fall.
Tosh
I was wondering what broke Billy's fall too. Quite possibly Eileen . . .
Eileen survives being bashed on the head with a pair of bolt cutters and Billy survives a drop from a cliff. We have the most incompetent police and prison security guards but top notch surgeons in Weatherfield.
Yes, corrie christmas was definitely a turkey!
I hate saying it because I love Corrie but ... more holes in the storylines than a colander.
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