The rapid rise of Ukip is a topic rife for discussion, but the danger of the party’s relative popularity is that it changes the discourse of the other parties, not that it might actually form a government. Film-maker Chris Atkins, writer/director of the excellent Starsuckers, fuses fairytale with real news footage in Ukip: The First 100 Days (Channel 4), which imagines a near future in which Prime Minister Nigel Farage gains a slender majority at the general election. Atkins’ story is pegged on the fledgling career of the newly elected fictional MP for Romford, Deepa Kaur, played with impressive commitment by Priyanga Burford, who does her best to make Kaur a three-dimensional human, striving to do good as her party seeks to exploit those good intentions. It is a great performance – but the fictional Britain that votes for a Ukip government doesn’t convince nearly as much.
Deepa begins as an idealist who thinks her chosen party offers a better future. “We are taking everyone to a better place,” she says in a bid to convince her doubting brother of her integrity. In a convenient bit of plotting, he loses his job at the local factory when the new government pulls Britain out of the European Union and practically leads a hashtag campaign to #savesabir, a young man injured in one of the government’s heavy-handed illegal immigrant raids.
Kaur is a Sikh, born in Britain, complete with stereotypically proud parents who show off her university certificates to anyone who’ll listen. She quickly becomes Ukip’s reassuringly “brown face” as she puts it, fronting a new immigration clamp-down. Smoking is back in pubs, Neil Hamilton is deputy PM, and funding is increased for border control task forces, with ex-squaddies raiding curry house kitchens looking for stowaways. Meanwhile, the anti-Ukip factions mobilise and march on London, clashing with right-wing groups. The government papers over the cracks by announcing a new bank holiday and a revived Festival of Britain, but, as the country tips towards bedlam, the bunting droops and the scones start to look stale.
For a show about political maneuvering it’s not exactly House of Cards or The Thick of It, but Ukip: The First 100 Days nevertheless tries to depict a Machiavellian spin doctor (played by Jamie Glassman) who literally lurks in the shadows as he grooms Deepa for political stardom. Those used to more sophistication in their political satire (and it does attempt a satirical tone) might be disappointed by the rather binary nature of this tale. It just stops short of depicting a grinning Farage holding up the smoking doorknob of No 10, grinning apologetically among its ruins like a wretched Frank Spencer while chaos descends around him. Atkins points out that Farage hasn’t thought things through and that his knee-jerk, fear-based policies will result in a climate of hate and economic chaos. It’s a good point, but not exactly an original one.
Deepa’s eventual redemption comes in the form of all-out rebellion: in the final scene she performs a u-turn, ruining her chances of promotion. While her political future was left unclear, she does earn a hug from her left-wing brother, telling us she is at least, morally speaking, a high achiever. What could have been a nuanced look at a British political phenomenon, ends up not just pat, but feeling like a giant pat on the head. It won’t aid Ukip’s cause in the run up to the election, but it probably won’t make much of a dent in it either.
In another vision of Britain, Robson Green returns for a second series of his Tales from Northumberland (ITV) in which the endlessly enthusiastic actor asks us to join him in celebration of Victorians, dolphins and naked swimmers while swooping over north east England in a quite unnecessary helicopter.
This is the ITV template for popular factual series now: familiar person goes to a place, sees things through an affable layman’s filter, generally looks happy to be there, even though it’s not clear why they are. “I truly believe these creatures are put on the planet just to make your heart sing,” Green froths as a dolphin frolics off the starboard bow. Or perhaps even just to guest star in documentaries presented by well-loved actors discussing subjects far outside their area of expertise.
And in case any viewers were feeling short-changed at the endless scenes of Green yomping from beach to ancient pile in durable waterproofs, he obligingly strips off for a dip in the sea with some wild swimming enthusiasts in Druridge Bay. There goes his naked bottom, bobbing along the sand before disappearing beneath the waves like that cheeky dolphin. “This is Northumberland,” he squeaks as his undercarriage recoils, his hardy northern credentials intact.
