Five Things We Learned In Corrie This Week

Why don't you come on over, Emily?  The marvels of modern technology meant that Emily was able to put in a Skype call to Ken's 80th birthday party from Edinburgh (which is more than Tracy and Peter did, but they're obviously too busy gallivanting on their freebie Venice holiday to care).  At least it was meant to be a video call - it was actually obvious that they'd simply filmed Eileen Derbyshire saying her lines in her front room.  I love that Malcolm Hebden had a heart attack so bad it put him in a coma, and they still make him schlep all the way to MediaCity to film his cameo, but Eileen refused to even get in an Uber and made the cameramen trek out to her house for her scene.  What a diva; obviously I'm a massive fan.  The lack of proper interaction meant that it had the vague air of one of those videos celebrities do for twenty quid where they film themselves saying "happy birthday, Susan!" in portrait mode in the green room between takes.  Still, with any luck they got their money's worth out of the session, and filmed Emily making video calls for a whole load of future events.  It'll be Bertie's fiftieth birthday party and Aunty Emily will pop up on the screen to wish him well, a digital avatar that will outlive us all.

Calm down, calm down.  Ali spent most of his appearances dozing off on various bits of the set; this was apparently a side effect of the drugs he's taking, though I thought that was just normal behaviour for Junior Doctors working 80 hour shifts in A&E without a break.  He was so chilled it meant everyone around him had to hysterically overcompensate.  First he accidentally burnt a pizza; a whole gang of people burst into the flat to rescue Liam from the horrors of charred pepperoni, while Maria clutched him to her bosom, filled with regret that due to Ali's negligence, she was going to have to go to the chippy.  This lead to Ali and Maria breaking up, and in his frustration, Ali broke a glass.

Judging by Ryan's reaction when he opened the door, this was one of the most shocking things he'd ever seen on the floor of that flat, and that includes that dead druggie.  Worse was to come, as Michelle came home:

She was practically hysterical at the sight of broken glass.  You've got a tiled floor, love, it's not going to be difficult to sweep up.  Michelle was forced to go to the Rovers to recover - even though she was going on holiday that evening - where she tried to console a heartbroken Maria in her utterly self-centred way.

Gloriously, Maria turned on her, and pointed out that whether you go down the route of nature or nurture, Michelle's produced two pretty terrible sons.  When is the Exalted Queen of the Universe actually leaving, anyway?  I feel like she announced her departure months ago and yet here she is, still hanging out on the Street, calling in sickies to a job she's had for about six weeks and then going on holiday.  This is the longest farewell tour since Frank Sinatra.

This Bananarama tribute act looks amazing.  Rita, Claudia and Audrey accosted Ken with a birthday sing-song, and it was thrilling.  Don't forget, these are some of the Street's most accomplished chanteuses; Rula Lenska was a Rock Folly in the seventies, while Sue Nicholls had a number 17 hit with Where Will You Be?  And Rita has been Weatherfield's resident songbird for decades, whether she was shimmying onstage at the Graffiti Club or forcing the pub into an involuntary singalong during New Year/a power cut/a Tuesday lunchtime.  We need more from these ladies - perhaps a night at Speed Daal when Ryan isn't wrecking the decks, or a concert tour of the North West, or a week-long residence at the O2.  They could get Jenny Bradley in to do What I Did For Love as support (yes, I'm sharing that video AGAIN) and we could all be there in the audience holding our lighters aloft.  I'm happy to be your Alec Gilroy-style agent ladies; my fees are very reasonable.

The party animals have been put down.  Shona and Sarah-Lou got all dressed up for a wild night to celebrate Shona's birthday.  They put on their glad-rags, did their hair, got Faye into babysit and then went out to paint the town, if not red, then a nice pink.

And then the next thing Shona was scrubbing Max's school shoes in the kitchen.  Admittedly, their first port of call had been the Rovers, where Sinead had wrecked everybody's night by announcing that she was on her way out, but still: the best way to get past that depressing news is to drown those sorrows girls!  Get down to the Northern Quarter and start necking the tequila shots!  It's not even dark yet!  I hope they at least paid Faye for the whole night.

Mind you, that's a far more humane reaction to Sinead's revelation than Sean and Eileen's.  Neither of them bothered turning up for Ken's 80th, but the minute they heard there was a horrible tragedy on the cards, they were straight round the Rovers to revel in the misery.  What a pair of absolute ghouls.

Three is a magic number.  Sophie finally went on her maternity leave, which I'm sure was a relief for everyone on the show, as she was looking so pregnant I was genuinely starting to worry the baby was going to drop mid-scene.  She was written out via a dispatch to Cambodia with Auntie Vi's money; I'm not sure it clears that quickly, what with her having only just been put in the ground, but clearly Soph was possessed with the urge as she went from having the idea on Wednesday morning to being on a flight Wednesday evening.  Now that's keen.  Sally mused on her own past, wishing she'd had the opportunity to indulge her "European bent" instead of being tied down to boring Kevin and her awful children (she didn't say the last bit out loud but it was pretty clear), but I wasn't really paying attention because Tim and Kev were snuggling together on the sofa.

Adorable.  Corrie has been very proud of its modern, issue-based storylines of late; can I suggest they become the first soap to introduce a throuple?  Kev and Tim and Sally can all share a super king size and spend their evenings rattling round number 4 as a sexy middle-aged modern relationship who doesn't care about society's judgement and who also has a really nice sofa.  You just know the writers have "Kevin and Sally sleep together" as a possibility on their noticeboard at all times; this way they could get the storyline without having to break up the Metcalfes.  It'd certainly be a lot more cheery than the usual "if you've been affected by this episode..." stories.
 
This blog has arrived on a Sunday the last couple of weeks, and now it's here on a Friday.  Am I wildly inconsistent, or thrillingly spontaneous?  Let me know over on Twitter @merseytart.

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