Holding a mirror up to society. The Royle Family
Try this for a little experiment. Switch the telly off one evening, put a big mirror in front of it, and watch that instead. (Don't try this if you live on your own, you'll just end up watching yourself sobbing into your tea - it only really works if you're part of a reasonable sized family).
After the initial excitement of seeing your own reflections, you'll find it gets quite boring, quite quickly. And yet for some inexplicable reason people think The Royle family is brilliant television. Because that's what it is. Yes, it's very well observed, and we recognise it. "Jim's just like granddad", "I used to go out with Dave", "Look, they're just like us," we say. And there's no denying it's well written, and beautifully acted. But nothing happens.
Duh! Nothing's supposed to happen, you say. Well, why not? Maybe I'm being old-fashioned in wanting something to happen in TV drama, and in thinking that simply recognising a situation is not enough. But after half an hour, nothing but recognition gets quite boring in my book, however well it's done. It's drama masquerading as reality TV, a sketch dragged out over half an hour. Or, in the case of last night's one off special, an hour! An hour of nothing is a very long time.
I almost died at one point. Guess what brought me back to life at the end? A death. Nana's. At last, something's happened, even if it is the death of a very old lady. At last a reason to feel something, anything.
Good sitcom? My arse.
