ONE EASY LESSON: Lepidoptera & Violence #PGat35
IMPORTANT: This review contains SPOILERS. Massive great honking ones. If you haven’t ever seen Press Gang (Seriously?! Are you a KD?!!! What are you even doing here reading this, you fool?! Click right on over to Amazon, buy yourself the complete series boxset and remedy that situation immediately before you read any further…) #CommissionsEarned
So what are we to make of a girl who has calculated the average time her English teacher takes in the toilet? (Six minutes, for those keeping notes.) That’s hardly normal behaviour by any standard, is it?
The gloriously off-beat opening to this episode adds a bizarre twist to the unashamedly complex Lynda/Sullivan dynamic unveiled here. True enough, there is no Spike/Lynda action in this episode, but since Sullivan has such a key role to play in Lynda’s development, it is important that some time is devoted to learning how they interact. It’s fascinating to see the lines blurring between teacher and pupil, although one of the functions of this episode is surely to remind us that Lynda is still at school, and she still has homework to do just like everyone else.
In the newsroom, Frazz is playing out a twisted version of Monty Python’s Spanish Inquisition sketch to the new recruits, unaware that someone is lurking in the stacks benefiting from his wisdom. But really we should be asking ourselves exactly why it falls to Frazz to provide the induction talk… and if ScaryZombieShoulderPadsGirl really is a smart addition to the team.
Tiddler makes her debut – effectively the Junior Gazette stowaway – displaying an alarming amount of self-confidence for one so small. There’s a real joy in her first exchange with Lynda, who clearly recognises the futility of arguing with someone hatched from the same podlet as herself. And later, even in long-shot, there is a gleeful satisfaction when she passes on the “not bad” judgement. It is a great shame that Tiddler never really go to realise her full potential.
Colin launches CME’s first project with amazing inventiveness, although it’s interesting to note that the motivation for his blistering marketing campaign derives from Lynda’s threats rather than any considered business plan for making cash from his bargain-basement purchases. Securing the bargain was the important thing here for Colin, blinding him to all else.
Julie attempts to contribute something other than graphics to the paper – and a good job too, since judging by what we see of her artistic skills, she’s not playing to her strengths. As she proudly unfurls the “pong” poster for Colin’s approval, his nostrils flare alarmingly: no words required. [And as a note for the future: Colin has the upper hand in this relationship now. Things will change a couple of years down the line…] The pings spread prolifically, attaching themselves to every free surface and assuming multiple guises throughout this episode, and beyond…
Back at school, notable mention must go to David Collings’ cameo as headmaster Mr Winters. It’s pretty damn cool that character actors of his calibre will show up for a non-speaking part, although of course, he does get more to do later in the series. In the classroom, it is the oiks imported from Grange Hill who appear to be causing all the problems, but Spike and Frazz team up to terrorise the little ones in the name of fair play. It seems unlikely that bullying in any form would be condoned in this way on television today, and even though it’s all in a good cause, it does make somewhat uncomfortable viewing in 2024.
One continuity point: both Danny and Sarah appear to refer to the school secretary as Miss Jessop, even though she’s clearly credited as Miss Hessope. We must assume this is just their lousy Norbridge diction.
Lynda has cause to visit Matt Kerr’s office again, and we witness a fascinating dynamic developing.
Kerr initially shows (admittedly well-concealed) signs of approving Lynda’s editorial approach, and although Lynda is clearly unhappy with his choice of phrase, she immediately adopts it herself. Later, when things have gone badly for Knowles, Kerr is encouraging Lynda to do the right thing and make a difference, although makes a point of not telling her exactly what the right thing is. And all the while in his office, they are dancing around each other in a way that hints at something else entirely…
As this is the first issue-led episode, it is perhaps inevitable that the best bits are the window dressing and not the message. However, Adrian Edmonson is inspired casting here, bringing an incidental frisson to the proceedings. After all, this is a man who had created a career from rampant anarchic violence presented in the name of entertainment. How can we help but wonder if he will at any moment transmogrify into Vyvyan Basterd and smash some sense into the little brats with the assistance of a breeze block nailed to a cricket bat?
Alas, it is not to be. Mild-mannered Simon Knowles ably presents the human face of teaching and delivers a tutorial in the power of self-confidence. One imagines that this is marvellous entertainment for any teachers watching, all nodding sagely to themselves at the wisdom of the lesson, but I can’t help thinking that perhaps your average CITV viewer might have learned more from the cricket bat…
PHOTO FINISH: Disco Info #PGat35
IMPORTANT: This review contains SPOILERS. Massive great honking ones. If you haven’t ever seen Press Gang (Seriously?! Are you a KD?!!! What are you even doing here reading this, you fool?! Click right on over to Amazon, buy yourself the complete series boxset and remedy that situation immediately before you read any further…) #CommissionsEarned
So we’re off and running, and Photo Finish picks up pretty much exactly where Page One left off. It’s now just three days to the first edition, and certain changes are apparent that one might expect to have taken longer than a day or so develop…
Lynda is already more focussed, self-assured and in charge, rather than just being bossy, and we see further evidence of her obsessive and somewhat selfish attitude to possessions. She is clearly stressed, but has developed coping mechanisms: the glorious use of the swear box, and her long-standing Rubik’s Cube habit. Having asked for help from Kerr and got none, Lynda applies herself to the task in hand with drive and determination. What she doesn’t know she’s making up as she goes. She’s well on her way to being formidable with her peers (see how everyone defers to her when the telephone first rings), although there is still the odd wobble here to remind you that she’s still a novice finding her way in an adult world: contrast the real flash of vulnerability shown when she fears Chrissie might tell Kerr about the phone with her steely “You’re dead Colin!” just moments later.
Spike and Kenny are huddled together as if they have been best buddies for years. This doesn’t really make much sense given their interaction in Page One, but presumably in the interim, they have shared a spiritual bonding moment, sparked by their mutual obsession with Lynda Day. Personally, I’ve never believed that it’s an unrequited lurve thing with Kenny, but nevertheless, he does appear to be totally devoted to her, at times to the point of stupidity. (We will see this beautifully illustrated later in Going Back to Jasper Street.) Of course, this doesn’t jive with the classic Harry Burns’ “men and women can never be friends” rule, but yummy Kenny is no ordinary man, and probably far too nice to even consider ever ‘doing the squelchy’ with his best friend. I fondly imagine Kenny and Spike’s relationship rapidly blossoming as they trade detailed observations about Lynda’s behavioural quirks. This would also be against Kenny’s better judgement naturally, since he is also far, far too nice to descend into bitching…
Whilst new and rather unexpected friendships are forming, we also see clear evidence of some long-standing bonds. After a fleeting introduction in Page One as a hapless and sometimes accident-prone journalist-in-training, Sarah Jackson is shown to be one of Lynda’s trusted friends. When there is real reporting to be done, Lynda and Sarah team up and head over to the Council offices, although a lack of chutzpah leaves them without the interview they desperately need. Even so, Sarah does a “lovely job” of creating something from nothing, giving Lynda her front-page story. We witness a ‘girly’ side as they giggle together about the stupid boys, and Sarah is prepared to handle stressed-out Lynda, on hand with the Rubik’s Cube and a stopwatch when required. Despite this, however, Lynda still remains unwilling to lend Sarah her ruler…
Meanwhile, Bambi and Thumper are hanging out at Czars, where there is some chummy fist-bumping going on. These two are clearly very comfortable in each other’s company, although Frazz doesn’t really seem the ‘gang’ type. Just who exactly manipulated who over the Disco-Info mission remains unclear. My older, less than innocent eyes now watch Frazz as he stares fixedly at Spike whilst they are in the phonebox, and a rather less conventional explanation presents itself… (Mind in the gutter? Moi?)
Back at the newsroom, Frazz has finally finished up his horoscopes. The collective, spontaneous teasing session by the “stars” is a joy (Haemoglobin, Tarmac, Helium, Zinc and Carbohydrate are all perfectly pitched), but Frazz will make them pay for poking fun at him. Is “dopey” Frazz all just a clever act to deflect as much real work as possible? He remains studiously bewildered at their suggestions, but is he in fact having the last laugh? Despite his apparent confusion on the astrology issue in Page One, he’s clued up enough to make the “should have seen it coming” quip. Either way, Frazz obviously takes great delight in informing Lynda that Spike scored an interview Amanda Swanson, and is subsequently strong-armed into escorting Lynda to Czars to track him down.
Frazz as lazy-not-stupid is proved beyond reasonable doubt for me, since he is the one to have the eureka! moment, just prior to the full-on exposition outside the police station. Truly, the realisation should have been Sarah’s, being a ‘proper’ reporter in training, but instead it communicates something important about Frazz. (Personally, I think they should have tumbled the dodginess the minute they discovered that the owner of The Joint was named Jack Slade: a true gangland moniker if ever there was one, and clearly hired from the Bob Hoskins Looky-Likey bureau.)
When not being visually devoured by Frazz, Spike is honing his own reporter’s skills, although they mostly amount to getting the horns (he is clearly not concerned about appearing “cool” at all times) and charming meaningless denials out of middle-aged ladies. Spike’s first source of information is an ex-girlfriend. This is not a conventional journalistic approach to cultivating informants, but it is a network that will prove to be extensive. He’s managed to notch up an impressive string of girlfriends already, most of whom will still speak to him, and that’s no mean achievement. So why is he letting Miss Starch-In-Her-Tights walk all over him? It must be true vole. Humiliated in front of his mates (who?!) in Czars, it is all the more telling that even after yet another frankly extremely ungrateful put-down from Lynda, he openly rejects his old gang in favour of his totally fictional ballet classes. Clearly, even the idea of imaginary dancing with Lynda is too intoxicating to resist.
Hmmm. Dancing. Keep a watchful eye out, as Captain Subtext lurks around every corner just waiting to jump out and surprise you…
Press Gang @ 35 