Five Things We Learned In Corrie This Week

Appreciate your assets.  Another week on Corrie, another week where I'm begging the Platt family to stop being so horrible to Gail.  Gail is lovely and caring and has stuck by her awful children even though they're astonishingly annoying.  She's a bit daffy, but look at the poor woman's life: she's earned the right to be a little loose around the edges.  David dismissed her teaching powers - "Geography hour with Gail will be a list of all the best bars in Thailand" and I'm sorry, that's a cool thing for your nan to teach you - while Max chucked her lovely gift of a new school bag in the bin first chance he got.  They're horrible people and let's hope the sinkhole reopens and swallows them all.

Thank goodness then for Sally, who remembered that she's been friends with Gail for decade and took her out for a drink to discuss the Timpotence situation.  I'm still not sure how I feel about this storyline, and apparently the writers aren't sure either; one minute it's a serious discussion of the very real problem of post-operative sexual dysfunction, the next it's Sally waving a floppy cucumber around and Tim barrelling down the street in a dressing gown in search of Viagra.  We did at least hear the word "penis" this week, which felt like some kind of taboo breaking - taking advantage of that new later eight o'clock spot I guess.

Tim's problems meant that we got a lovely, lengthy scene in the Rovers between Gail and Sally as they talked like - well, like old friends.  There were jokes (Gail thinking Tim was on E was brilliant), there were revelations, and there were serious discussions about sex and relationships.  It was great and should happen more often.  Sally and Abi are a fantastic pairing but she's too much of a firecracker - Sal inevitably ends up being the disapproving mother figure.  Sally and Gail have similar lives and journeys - they gave birth within 24 hours of one another and were in adjoining hospital beds, for Pete's sake! - and it's great to see that reflected onscreen.  Even if we do end up hearing about Brian Tilsley's rampant sexual appetite in the process.  Of course Sally told her about her sex life, and of course Gail was empathetic and tried to do the right thing, because she is a treasure and Tim needs to appreciate that.  Everyone does.

And now, an announcement.  I'm sorry, but I've reached the end of the line with the Abi/Imran/Alfie storyline, and as such, this blog will no longer mention it.  I've got tired with the endless back and forths, the double crosses, the nonsensical legalities.  I switch off when Toyah pulls that caring face, or when Abi decides to meet yet another dodgy bloke in an alleyway to hand over a load of cash she's somehow acquired.  I realise this decision will bite me in the behind during Britain's Got Talent week when it's this storyline all the time, but hopefully there'll be a nice subplot involving Aadi and Asha trying to decide who gets to use the telly or something that I can concentrate on instead.  (Please note: I reserve the right to change my mind about this decision in extraordinary circumstances such as, for example, if the pressure gets so much for Imran that he strips naked and streaks down Victoria Street.  I may possibly have a thought or two then, and I might even be able to share some of them).

Everyone's a winner.  Debbie organised a raffle for Oliver's Fund (which I thought got wound up when Curtis was around?  Never mind) and the prizes were distributed in a totally fair and legal manner, to whit:

• Third Prize (a doorbell camera) went to Steve, principal trustee of Oliver's Fund
• Second Prize (a luxury break in the Chariot Square Hotel, a contradiction in terms) went to Sally and Tim, i.e. Debbie's former sister in law
• First Prize (a VIP trip to Weatherfield County) went to Ronnie, her current bit on the side.

Someone call in the authorities, this draw was dodgier than Georgia's votes at Eurovision.  Steve was disappointed at first but soon learned to love his doorbell camera once he realised he could use it to spy on the neighbours.  I can't help thinking that a motion sensitive camera on a front door that opens directly onto the street seems like a bad idea; Steve's going to keep getting intruder alerts on his phone and it's just Beth out walking Peanut.  

Of course it all lead to a misunderstanding that ended with Ronnie getting belted, because nobody installs a camera in Weatherfield unless it's going to immediately be used for surveillance purposes.  Can we do something more with Ronnie, by the way?  He deserves better than being a punchbag for other people's storylines.  I'm still not sure what he does for a living, and apparently he's still living at the Rovers, which must be costing him a fortune.  He acts like he's rolling in cash so stick him in Redbank with Adam and Sarah-Lou and the other high-rollers of the Street.  Vinta Morgan is a charismatic actor with bags of potential.  

Death is a numbers game.  At the risk of sounding pedantic, does John Stape actually count as a serial killer?  Colin Fishwick carked it entirely of his own accord, and Mrs Warboys' death was accidental.  The only person he actually murdered deliberately was Charlotte and let's face it she kind of deserved it.  I'm not saying he was a saint - he was altogether too fond of kidnapping Rosie Webster - but he was hardly Pat Phelan gunning down Andy in cold blood, was he?  

It seems Fiz hasn't once mentioned John to Phill, which makes me wonder about their levels of communication.

Phill: "What happened to Hope's real dad?"
Fiz: "Look over there!  I think that's Lady Gaga on that tram!"

He knew about it anyway, because it's 2022 and the first thing you do when you have a date with someone is do a bit of cyberstalking and hunt them down through Google.  Scan their Facebook, read their appearances in newspapers, go to Ancestry.com and find out if they're descended from anyone rich, the usual stuff.  It was news to Michael, however, who revealed himself to be a bit of a crime podcast buff.  I hope Beth immediately filled him in on the fact that he now lives on a literal Murderer's Row and he spends the next few weeks indiscreetly interrogating Rita about Alan Bradley and trying to get the gory details on Charlie Stubbs from Tracy.

Phill was later spotted by Tyrone handing over a brown envelope to a suspect character in the gardens because he's been a stand up bloke for six months now; it's about time he was revealed to have a secret that could destroy everything.  It's a shame, because I like Phill and his unabashed goodness, and I'm not keen to have him revealed to be a sexual pervert or a drug dealer or something.  Of course, he could've avoided all of this by having this exchange literally anywhere else in the Greater Manchester area, what with him neither living or working within a mile of Coronation Street, but that would've meant they'd have had to do some location filming and budgets are tight these days.

Ascend to a higher plane.  Remember a couple of weeks ago when Amy revealed she was horribly traumatised by her drugging, purely so that we could learn how Daniel and Max felt about it?  And the rest of the week was the fallout from that, but mainly without Amy, because she'd served her purpose?  Well, it seems she's over it all now as she spent this week forgiving Daniel and intervening to try and get the Barlows back together as a family.  She's approaching sainthood now, which would be fine if I felt like it was a character beat rather than the scriptwriters simply not wanting to deal with any anxieties or emotional upset Amy might be experiencing.  

At least her relationship with Jacob seems to be coming along well.  This week Jack James Ryan got the shirtless scene which is legally required for all new male cast members under the age of 25 as he had a shower at Eileen's to escape a broken boiler.  Obviously Eileen came home halfway through and beat him out into the gutter with a caterwaul that could be heard two streets away.  A moment, by the way, to appreciate the way Mary and Jacob shamelessly flirt with one another, and the fact that when Eileen said "I found him with not a stitch on coming round to do you a favour" Mary immediately assumed it was a sex thing.  What a legend.

Tracy took him to one side and interrogated him, enabling us to get the inevitable back story - absent father, criminal mother, dodgy sublet - that would normally see a thawing in the listener's soul and result in them inviting them under their wing.  Tracy, however, has a heart of flint, and concluded that the best thing for Jacob would be if he dumped Amy and sent her home.  She may have softened considerably since Deirdre died but at the core of Tracy Barlow is a sucking void of unpleasantness that I for one adore.

Today marks the fifth anniversary of the Manchester Bombing, an event that was commemorated by the show having Gail and Eileen exchange pleasantries with one another by the memorial bench.  If those two can go two minutes without tearing into one another there's hope for us all.  My Twitter feed @merseytart will try to follow their example.

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