
‘The Politician’s Husband’: Episode 1 review
Writer Paula Milne returns to the political arena with a sequel, of sorts (but not really), to her 1995 Channel 4 series, The Politician’s Wife (starring Juliet Stevenson and Trevor Eve).
Writer Paula Milne returns to the political arena with a sequel, of sorts (but not really), to her 1995 Channel 4 series, The Politician’s Wife (starring Juliet Stevenson and Trevor Eve).
“Dracarys”. And with that word, Game of Thrones fans around the world leap out of their seat and punch the air in solidarity with the queen of dragons.
Imagine Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory. Imagining it? Good. Brilliant, isn’t it? Now, imagine that said chocolate factory is about to explode – BOOM, wibbly-wobbly chocolatey-wocolateyness everywhere – and that a bewildered Charlie is trapped, wandering through rooms of marvellous impossible treats, while Willy Wonka is planning to rescue him. Now, replace ‘chocolate’ with ‘time’, switch a few names, and you’ve got ‘Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS’.
‘This isn’t a ghost story,’ says the Doctor with one of those humany-wumany grins on his face. ‘It’s a love story.’ And he’s not wrong.
What makes Spartacus so much more complex than many expect it to be is that when it presents us with an idea, it is never content to move on from it without exploring it in depth.
It may be something of a surprise to learn that the two men behind Game of Thrones have never actually stepped behind the camera to direct an episode themselves. That all changes with ‘Walk of Punishment’, as David Benioff takes control and directs an instalment brimming with confidence.
After the cacophony of criticisms brought upon ‘Rings of Akhaten’, Neil Cross’ name may ring a Cloister Bell in the head of many a Whovian. But you can’t judge one writer by one episode, and we’re certainly not going to compare efforts here. All we’ll say is that ‘Hide’ is as far away from ‘Rings’ as the Akhaten system is from 1970s England.
After a run of Doctor Who episodes which have made a play of character riddles and tricksy story twists, ‘Cold War’ represents something of a thaw in proceedings.
There are no paradoxes here to send you hurrying to the internet to speculate about what you have seen and why. There’s probably less subtext than in last week’s, altogether more awkward, instalment.
Spartacus doesn’t do filler episodes. Yes, ‘The Dead and the Dying’ may be the penultimate instalment of the show but that hardly means it’s an uneventful one.
This is an episode that is all about consequences, catharsis and remembering the dead. It’s a tribute to Crixus that develops into a tribute to all who have fallen in the war against Rome, masterfully executing numerous resonant moments while doing significant work building for what is sure to be an epic series finale.
TV of a quality like Broadchurch doesn’t come along very often. And in an age when telly is an elastic experience – something which can be paused, rewound, and watched whenever we demand it – it’s rare for a show to command such attention that it becomes an appointment: an hour that millions cannot afford to record or download, because it would leave them behind.