School cleaner Pat is appalled to see the man who abused her daughter Rachel over thirty years earlier is still teaching. She wants to report him but Rachel is not keen, given that Pat did nothing at...
With her husband Ken suffering from MS mother of two Moira is the family bread-winner, working both as a dinner lady and in a corner shop. Finances are tight so that when the Polish Anna, a customer ...
Only one week to go before the marriage of Howard and Mel which quickly escalates into the week from Hell. The series follows the bumbling Howard as he lurches from one appallingly ... See full summary »
Faith, a small-town Welsh lawyer, is forced to cut short her extended maternity leave when her husband and business partner, Evan, goes missing. As the truth of his actions surface, Faith must fight to protect her family and her sanity.
Marnie is not OK. She's had x-rated thoughts for the last 3672 days and she doesn't know why or what they mean. When she jumps on a coach to London, she doesn't know a soul, not even herself, but in the city she will build a new life.
Trapped in all the emotion of a tabloid murder story
I have to admit that I've only seen two episodes from series one of Moving On (described as BBC series consisting of standalone contemporary drama). The first was about a bully and the second about a woman who unwittingly gets involved with a drug dealer. Perhaps I've been unlucky and the rest are truly moving parables, timeless yet contemporary. However, in my opinion, this is underwhelming fodder for the daytime dazed. It's almost as though an inexperienced fifteen year old decided to create a number of one dimensional characters whilst leafing through the Littlewoods catalogue and later on, an over zealous parent decided to add some "broadly credible" circumstances for them to stumble woodenly through and then, p1ss1ng themselves with the opposite of creative excitement, entered the entire shambles in to a competition in a shopping arcade. What upsets me most are the pathetic female characters who, unable to stand up for themselves in any coherent or believable way, could easily be expected to suddenly pour themselves a bubble-bath whilst deep throating a Dairymilk and trying on all their shoes whilst chanting in monotone, "That's men for you! That's men for you!". Bl00dy sh1t! There are thousands of excellent screenwriters in Britain who could offer a short story for daytime TV with realistic dialogue and contemplative moral quandaries. There are thousands of incredible actors who could transport us to that fully relatable state of semi-detachment. Those two episodes made me hate my eyes.
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