Soapland is known for pushing the limits of credibility, but this week, EastEnders is finally taking steps to address its biggest plot hole: gentrification, or hitherto lack of it. For years, Walford has been morphing into a strange parallel universe where market traders and bar staff can still afford to live in a prime real estate town house. According to Rightmove’s current figures, a terrace in Tower Hamlets would set you back north of half a million. Dot Branning would likely have been priced out years ago.
Seeds of community unrest were sown last month, when Shirley Carter was seen giving a tongue-lashing to a group of Nimbyish protesters livid at the effect a proposed halfway house would have on the square. “Do we really want violent criminals living right in the middle of a residential community?” a gormless man in pastel-check had asked Phil Mitchell earlier that day. “Well, speaking as a violent criminal myself and living here already as I do,” growled Phil, “I don’t think I’m your target audience, mate.”
“You almost had me there,” the man quipped, clutching his petition. By lunchtime, Phil had “had” him in a different way entirely – and Shirley was left to turf the interloper out of her pub with a venom that would have made Peggy proud. “People like you make me sick!” she spat, after a lengthy monologue on social justice.
Meanwhile, the raison d’etre of the show’s current villain, Fi Browning, has been to restock the Queen Vic with craft beer, breaking poor Mick Carter’s heart as the cockney lifeblood is drained out of his beloved boozer. Walford’s yuppies have evidently been living in plain sight all along.
The show has been making moves to better reflect east London for a few years. It now boasts a bar that serves cocktails in jam jars and is decorated with decapitated Barbie dolls. There was a minor fuss a while back at reports that a planned expansion of the Elstree set was to include a mosque. Denise Fox has been seen visiting the food bank, and the longest-running storyline of this year has involved a dispute with the council over bin collections (it has hardly been a vintage year).
Of course, a golden rule of British soap is that the middle classes shall, without exception, always be evil. True to form, this week the march of gentrification ended in catastrophe. With residents gathering for the Walford in Bloom celebrations, the festival was targeted by a group protesting the chattering classes. Inevitably, it descended into a riot, all but ruining Jane Beale’s petunias, causing a gas explosion to rip through the square and setting the scene for a week of death, destruction and mayhem. That’s soap karma in action right there.
