Eddie finally decides that he has had enough of Twickenham and wants to move back to his beloved Manchester. He puts his house in Maple Terrace on the market for £15,000. An interested party comes forward in the shape of 'George Brittain' ( James Cossins ) and wife 'Esme' ( Stella Moray ). The snag is that they are more racist than Eddie ( George belongs to 'E.F.T.E' which stands for 'England For The English' ). Eddie gives his football tickets to the Reynolds in order to get them out of the way while the Brittains' inspect his property. Just as he is on the verge of clinching a deal, the Reynolds unexpectedly return ( the match having been cancelled )...
Written by H.V. Kershaw, this is a good episode for the most part, with a nice contribution from the late, great James Cossins ( whom you may remember from the classic 'Some Mothers Do Ave Em' episode where Frank went on a public relations training course ). Its a bit unbelievable though in that Eddie feels he has to resort to subterfuge to get the Reynolds out of the way during Brittain's visit. One would have thought that Bill would be only too glad to see the back of his arch-enemy, and co-operate of his own accord. When Bill finds out what is going on, he advertises Eddie's house at a knock-down price of £1500 and laughs as his neighbour is swamped with offers.
Funniest moment - Eddie complaining about the foreigners on Tottenham Court Road. "Even the dogs are Great Danes!".
After a solid opening episode, the second edition of 'The 70's' was a big let down, going down the same predictable road trod by numerous other retro programmes, including 'I Love The 70's'. There was no mention of the switch-over to decimal currency, for one thing. Amazingly, I found myself agreeing with Alison Graham, who wrote in 'The Radio Times' this week that the fault with the show - indeed, the genre - is its smug over-reliance on generalisations e.g. 'in the '70's, we all did this and we all drank that and we all went there on holiday'. Millions simply did not live the way he described. I had to laugh when he said that British pubs were suddenly 'dangerous places to be' because of the I.R.A. bombing campaigns. Pubs have always been dangerous places to be, particularly on Saturday nights. He called 'Confessions Of A Window Cleaner' a 'low point for British cinema' ( he obviously cannot have seen Horne and Corden's 'Lesbian Vampire Killers' ) and 'Casanova 73' was in his view a 'nominally comic effort' despite it actually being rather good in spite of its sexist content. The digs at the miners also got on my wick. Those who constantly lambaste the B.B.C. for being a 'hot-bed of left-wing attitudes' should watch these programmes. Perhaps Andy Beckett, author of 'When The Lights Went Out' ( one of the few books to tell the truth about the 70's ), should be commissioned to do a follow-up.
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