I am totally stunned as to just how bad this is! I simply do not know how this got past pilot test showings & on to the public's TV screens.
I haven't seen anything quite as pastiche as this since I watched all of 2 minutes of witty frenetic dialogue of Steven Moffat's pet science fiction show of matching realism!
The Beeb are an embarrassment to well cultured people in all honesty. They are a highly paid organisation with stuffy executives, cheap programs, stifling environments & formulaic methods of creating out-dated servile dramas. And here is another product of such circumstances.
The Night Manager - The very title reeks of bourgeois lassitude. The lead character is everything you'd come to expect; Young, slender, dull, sailor's haircut, yellow tie, walks with a cucumber up his posterior, & speaks as though he has just finished his masters at Cambridge. You know.. typical ex-Iraq soldier!!
Everyone else also speaks in this god awful imperious way with unctuous mannerisms for good measure. And yet all the writing is austere & restrained so their target audience (The Royal Family) can understand it without having to put the decaf away.
The cast is as you'd expect - all white except for a few exceptions who don't have much screen time in typical BBC fashion. In fact, "fashion" is what stands out the most. Everything is sterile, premeditated, & pristine. From the convenient elucidation, bleached sets, to the rulebook editing & crystal clear crisp quiet ambiance for the flat dialogue between our right honourable friends. We can't have all those grannies missing a single word can we! What what!
The music is some of the most insipid trite ensemble stock production I have ever heard. Everything is tame, slow, non-threatening, shockingly old-fashioned & forgettable. I think I could even hear some stuffy rasp coughs of the Lords in the background, seeing this was recorded in Parliament? Heaven forbid we acknowledge the times we live in & ramify key phrases with electronic undertones!! I mean.. we must remember that Ólafur Arnalds (who composed the Broadchurch Score) was & still IS repeatedly scorned & rejected any recognition by the BBC's Classical FM & the rest of the dusty old rooms at the Beeb where sebaceous executives arrogate their bonuses straight from the "Soundtrack & Mixing" budget.
The entire episode is full of plot holes. The shows' premise is based on "Style over Substance". They try desperately to make it sultry & sexy, but it is so forced, so contrived & in bad taste that it just comes off as creepy & awkward. The hesitation for realism seeps in to the supposed "Strong Language"! Which consists of "Bloody Hell" on rare occasion! Oh my giddy aunt! Careful! You'll give my dear mother a heart attack!
Even Hugh Laurie has nothing to work with. I feel as though I must apologise to the Americans for such a come down after the perspicacious gritty narrative of House M.D. Everything is predictable, pretentious, & about as sophisticated as dandruff.
This looks, feels & sounds YEARS behind everything else due to a fear of creative freedom & the chains of tradition impinging every aspect of the white-conservative establishment. Oh God save the Queen! Oh God bless Mr David Cameron! No one knows the politics of WAR quite like us good old British what?
This will no doubt make a certain group of people feel proud to be British. - The same group of crumpet scoffing maladroit prigs & tea stirring reprobates that made it no doubt. It's an insult to the people fighting night & day to stay alive & goes far beyond 'racist'. This shows us up to be out of touch with 'humanity'.
The 2 stars are for the 2 actors who everyone tuned in for in the first place. Otherwise avoid.
I haven't seen anything quite as pastiche as this since I watched all of 2 minutes of witty frenetic dialogue of Steven Moffat's pet science fiction show of matching realism!
The Beeb are an embarrassment to well cultured people in all honesty. They are a highly paid organisation with stuffy executives, cheap programs, stifling environments & formulaic methods of creating out-dated servile dramas. And here is another product of such circumstances.
The Night Manager - The very title reeks of bourgeois lassitude. The lead character is everything you'd come to expect; Young, slender, dull, sailor's haircut, yellow tie, walks with a cucumber up his posterior, & speaks as though he has just finished his masters at Cambridge. You know.. typical ex-Iraq soldier!!
Everyone else also speaks in this god awful imperious way with unctuous mannerisms for good measure. And yet all the writing is austere & restrained so their target audience (The Royal Family) can understand it without having to put the decaf away.
The cast is as you'd expect - all white except for a few exceptions who don't have much screen time in typical BBC fashion. In fact, "fashion" is what stands out the most. Everything is sterile, premeditated, & pristine. From the convenient elucidation, bleached sets, to the rulebook editing & crystal clear crisp quiet ambiance for the flat dialogue between our right honourable friends. We can't have all those grannies missing a single word can we! What what!
The music is some of the most insipid trite ensemble stock production I have ever heard. Everything is tame, slow, non-threatening, shockingly old-fashioned & forgettable. I think I could even hear some stuffy rasp coughs of the Lords in the background, seeing this was recorded in Parliament? Heaven forbid we acknowledge the times we live in & ramify key phrases with electronic undertones!! I mean.. we must remember that Ólafur Arnalds (who composed the Broadchurch Score) was & still IS repeatedly scorned & rejected any recognition by the BBC's Classical FM & the rest of the dusty old rooms at the Beeb where sebaceous executives arrogate their bonuses straight from the "Soundtrack & Mixing" budget.
The entire episode is full of plot holes. The shows' premise is based on "Style over Substance". They try desperately to make it sultry & sexy, but it is so forced, so contrived & in bad taste that it just comes off as creepy & awkward. The hesitation for realism seeps in to the supposed "Strong Language"! Which consists of "Bloody Hell" on rare occasion! Oh my giddy aunt! Careful! You'll give my dear mother a heart attack!
Even Hugh Laurie has nothing to work with. I feel as though I must apologise to the Americans for such a come down after the perspicacious gritty narrative of House M.D. Everything is predictable, pretentious, & about as sophisticated as dandruff.
This looks, feels & sounds YEARS behind everything else due to a fear of creative freedom & the chains of tradition impinging every aspect of the white-conservative establishment. Oh God save the Queen! Oh God bless Mr David Cameron! No one knows the politics of WAR quite like us good old British what?
This will no doubt make a certain group of people feel proud to be British. - The same group of crumpet scoffing maladroit prigs & tea stirring reprobates that made it no doubt. It's an insult to the people fighting night & day to stay alive & goes far beyond 'racist'. This shows us up to be out of touch with 'humanity'.
The 2 stars are for the 2 actors who everyone tuned in for in the first place. Otherwise avoid.