It’s time to light the fuse! Brought to us by one of the most populous parts of the globe – the two-man revolution of Aafrin and Bonkers Naresh (and a small boy wheeling a box of explosives). At least in the beginning there was a depiction of some other people joining, and an explanation of how Bonkers Naresh had previously managed to die without actually dying. Never mind that I could not understand why Aafrin was even talking to Bonkers Naresh, let alone facilitating his lighting the fuse and the raining of the hands and bloody feet and the blood running red and blue. Or is Aafrin actually foiling it? Who knows. Ah, pass the gin.
Finally, the showdown came between Ralph and Aafrin – but not before a long wait. “They’re all saying it. Old Whelan’s losing his touch.” Indeed. Especially with the maharajah. Bonkers Naresh, however, is not losing his demented touch and appeared to be gaining the upper hand in this episode.
In the absence of a proper protagonist to care about, I had grown absurdly fond of Naresh. Sometimes he seemed like the only one who actually knew what was going on. “Your friend is your enemy. And there is no one in this world that you can trust.” You said it, you crazed revolutionary! And I really don’t like the sound of this man with 10 heads and 10 tongues of fire.
There was very much a feeling that this was the moment we had been building up to for weeks (if not years). But initially it was all a bit back to front, with the Baby-faced Scot suddenly becoming the hero instead of Aafrin. Well done, Mister Ian! Favourite scene this week? The exchange between Aafrin’s father and Alice. Touching, elegant, understated. We could do with more of this emotional simmering and fewer suspenseful bomb-trundling shots.
Meanwhile, until the Aafrin showdown, Ralphie seemed to have gone into a trance. “Turns out my father wasn’t my mother’s husband ... .” “Ask yourself: does it matter?” Well, this was all rather underplayed. Ralph would have gone postal sooner on all this. This is his whole identity and class we’re talking about, his destiny. I don’t think he would just brood upon it a bit and mention it in some half-baked way to the boring/tortured schoolteacher (RIP – we assume). But this is what we were asked to believe.
The denouement? Strangely anti-climactic. Although I did feel bad about the little boy. Where does this leave us? Confused about Ralphie’s place in the world. Even more uncertain about Aafrin’s role. And totally irritated by the underuse of Art Malik (the maharajah) and Rachel Griffths (Phyllis/Sirene – it’s a miracle I can even remember the name), woefully absent yet again. A brilliant casting move and between them they’ve been on screen for all of seven minutes.
Political shenanigans
It’s a colourful jubilee picnic! Long live the King! Time for a radio broadcast! “Oh, Whelan. One does feel rather invaded.” But the maharajah is coming – and so is Bonkers Naresh with his bomb! Except the maharajah is not coming and has sent a bust of himself in his place. At one point the bust seemed somehow more aggressive than the bomb. There’s still very little sense that the “Indian nationalist movement” consists of much more than Bonkers Naresh. What’s going to happen now? At least it has to broaden out into something more interesting and significant, doesn’t it?
Evil Britisher of the week
No Charlie this week. And the lecherous recipient of last week’s gobbling has gone back to Blighty. So no serious candidates for evil Britishness this week. Not even Ralph in full-on SS mode interrogating Bonkers Naresh. In fact, Naresh must be honorary evil Britisher of the week. An accolade that would no doubt irritate him immensely.
The Julie Walters fan club
The fan club wept and rendered its clothing this week as it almost seemed there would be no Cynthia! Luckily, this was not the case. Although I can quite imagine that she needed something of a lie-in after the gobbling. But what’s this – Cynthia’s missing the picnic? What does she know? Or is it just that she knows Ralphie’s not talking to her after last week’s revelations? Either way: not enough Cynthia.
