Watch these four programmes NOW!

 If this article were informational only, I’d name the four shows now and be done with it. Unfortunately, as you should know by now, The Monday Musings is not quite as simple as that - self-indulgence is the order of the day on this website. You might consider this post as a continuation of the article I did a few months ago (‘Three good films available on Netflix right now’) as it’ll cover the same sort of ground (just with TV instead of film, obviously). Once again, I’ll briefly outline the programmes in question, and then I’ll tell you (whether you like it or not) why I like them, and more importantly, why you should watch them. Don’t be deceived though, I’m not writing this as a favour to you out of the goodness of my heart - no, I fancied bragging about my interesting viewing habits, and needed a way to package this up for my blog. With that said, I hope you enjoy the post (I suppose it’d be good if you end up watching any of the things I mention as well) Thanks.

I’ll begin by riding Line of Duty’s wave of popularity: the hit police programme garnered record breaking viewing figures over the course of its 7-episode series this year, as I’m sure you’re all aware (the BBC never failed to tell us every 10 seconds) It’s for this reason, though, that I won’t be recommending Line of Duty in this article - I’ll assume that you’ve seen it, or chosen not to see it, already. For, you see, the only reason I bring up Jed Mercurio’s programme is to remind you of the character Carmichael - played by Anna Maxwell Martin - who became the dart-board for a country’s worth of lockdown hate on twitter. I mean this as a compliment, by the way (as much as that is possible) - the character was meant to be nasty, and Maxwell-Martin played her to perfection. Well, anyway, my point is that, the actress who aggravated the nation as Carmichael in Line of Duty has a starring role in the comedy series ‘Motherland’ too, which is the excellent show to begin my list of recommendations in this article (a comedy exploring the world of the school drop-off in suburban London). I realise that this piece of trivia isn’t worth the winding introduction I’ve given it, but I really do have a point: if you’ve seen Line of Duty, I urge you to watch Motherland too, to see how Maxwell Martin is a remarkably different prospect when playing a frustrated mother, as opposed to a bent rozzer. Obviously, there’s more to ‘Motherland(‘s)’ appeal than this, though. For one, it’s superbly funny; the show was created by Sharon Horgan, Graham Linehan and Holly Walsh, so has an excellent comedic foundation (the foremost and the latter are successful producers and comedic actresses, whilst Linehan is 50% responsible for Father Ted - need I say any more)  Indeed, the laughs come from many different places in this programme: we have surreal characters (like in Father Ted); clever witty lines (there’s one about being a Catholic in the new series which stands out to me), and, perhaps best of all, there’s brilliant situational comedy (I don’t know if that’s a thing) in ‘Motherland’ too. Truly, some of my favourite episodes come from rather banal situations that’ve been made hilarious, like a school fundraiser, or a child’s swimming party. The former, which is the basis for Series one Episode Three, is exquisite television in my opinion - the story builds to an unbearably cringeworthy climax (in a good way), whilst the three main characters are showcased perfectly. And I must say, whilst Maxwell Martin is thrillingly funny as Julia, I think that my favourite character is Kevin (a school dad played by Paul Ready) who is a hapless victim of the cruel world. He has great chemistry with Julia and the raucous Liz (the third main character, who is played by Diane Morgan) and carries the single funniest episode of the programme, when, in series 2 episode 5, he organises a group holiday to a cottage in the country, and ends up repeating the phrase ‘it’s not my house!’ as events begin to overtake him; his eventual meltdown makes this episode a must-see. There’s really nothing quite like ‘Motherland’ in my opinion - the cast and writing is almost flawless, and its theme music is first-rate; take it from me, I couldn’t be further detached from the premise of the show as a 19 year-old male on a Gap Year, but I still regard it as one of my favourite programmes, and I implore you to watch it. Series one and two are thoroughly brilliant, with the opening of Amanda’s shop and Sports Day mixed in there, and series 3 (currently being aired on BBC 2) is shaping up in a similar fashion. I fear that I haven’t sold it well enough/made it sound pretentious (which it isn’t), but really, please, if you haven’t seen any of Motherland, catch up on iPlayer and see Carmichael when she’s home from her work in AC12.

Don’t carry on reading this paragraph if you haven’t already watched, at least, series one and two of Motherland. Alright. I’ll carry things on with a program from Netflix - and don’t worry, it’s not an ‘original’ from the streaming service (i.e. dross), no, the show in question began life on the beeb before falling behind the paywall. ‘Giri/Haji’ is the the program in question - described as a ‘soulful thriller’ on the BBC website - which is set in Tokyo and London, depicting the fall-out from a murder which concerns the Japanese Yakuza families. Kenzo and Yuto Mori lie at the heart of the story - the former is a police detective, the latter, a murderous fugitive, and their paths inevitably cross. The escalation of events leaves Kenzo in an impossible situation, as his responsibilities to his family and his job conflict. This carefully developed situation makes for grippingly exciting television - there’s jeopardy and threat aplenty. I think the stapling factor of a brotherly relationship is really effective in this regard: it upped the ante for me, as I couldn’t help but putting myself in Kenzo’s shoes. There’s a jaw-dropping moment when Kenzo acts to save his Brother, and it really blew me away. What I’m saying is, if you have a brother, you’ll be moved in some way by this prog. It’s interesting to see someone butt up against the immovable forces of Yakuza tradition and British law, in their quest to navigate through an unenviable situation. Please don’t get me wrong though: Giri/Haji is really funny too, and rather cinematic. The character Rodney provides comic relief (although I find him a little gross at points, and his story does get rather heavy), and Kelly McDonald turns out really well as the affable Sarah - there’s a pleasing amount of light-heartedness, revolving around these two, that breaks up the otherwise intense proceedings. Meanwhile, the Japanese half of the show gives ‘Giri/Haji’ a really unique edge, in my opinion. It’s not only that I found the Yakuza scenes captivating, but also, the Tokyo setting made for a pleasing visual experience. It’s certainly a refreshing change from other British-made crime programmes that are so mired in the same sorts of scenarios. There’s a shot of Yuto on a street-corner, for example, which was just stunning. This isn’t to say that the English setting is totally bereft of niceness, though - for example, in one of the latter episodes, the Brothers find themselves on a windy beach and it just looks awesomely atmospheric. I should say, by the way, that there are 8 episodes in the single series of this program, and I found that the action was paced really well across the course of them. Things get really superb around episodes 3 and 4, when Kenzo begins to make headway in London. Indeed, I would say that the latter (episode 4) is one of the best bits of television I’ve seen. The action weaves majestically between Tokyo and London to a stunning climax. I do have to say though - the final episode of Giri/Haji was a real let-down. I think that the show was a little undone by its own intricate story: not even the creators of Kenzo’s complex situation could resolve it adequately for him. The story reached a certain conclusion, which is fine, but I didn’t like how this was contrived to be so: the writers tried too hard to subvert expectations, I think (resulting in farce). Also, there was an actual interpretive dance, involving the whole cast, in the final episode which I still don’t know what to make of (I finished the program months ago!) On that weird note, I’ll leave Giri/Haji in your hands. Please don’t be put off by my appraisal of the final episode, as the preceding instalments are good enough to save the whole.

As the article proceeds, my recommendations will become increasingly offbeat (I did inform you about my true inventions with this post in the intro, remember) but please don’t be put-off by this. I truly believe in the excellence of the two programs to follow, and I think that you will too if you dare to watch them. With that said, I’ll move on to ‘Borgen’ - a Danish political drama - which will fill the penultimate spot in this post. Please bear with me here. The program first appeared on British screens through BBC 4 - in the early 2010s - and would’ve been lost to the sands of time, save for its addition to Netflix last September (I’d certainly never heard of it until I found it a few weeks ago on Netflix). I do realise that recommending a Danish political thriller from BBC 4 cuts me out as an arsehole, but, having seen a series and a half so far, I can say that I genuinely love ‘Borgen’, and that I’m not just watching it in order to tell people that I watch it. I must say at once, though, that on Netflix, ‘Borgen’ has dubbed over English by default; some people hate the disconnect this causes between mouth movement and sound, so you should bear that in mind if you’re interested in the show (although, you can probably disable dubbing and turn on subtitles if so inclined) Personally, I came to regard the dubbed on English voices as a central part of the program’s appeal; I’m fascinated by the allocation of various regional accents to various characters. I don’t know who decides to give someone a Geordie accent, or a scouse accent, or a Scottish accent, but whoever it is deserves a pay rise, because they’re on the money every time - the English voice for the character Bent fits the Danish actor so perfectly that I can’t believe that he’s not actually from the North East of England. There is more substance to Borgen than this, though. For one thing, it’s excellently written, and truly captivating. Nowhere is this more evident than in the very first episode, as we’re slotted seamlessly into the frenzy of pre-election Denmark. The writers use their first 60 minutes to excellent effect: Brigitte Nyborg is instantly marked out as a wholesome character; Michael Laugesen is shown to be a nasty piece of work, and we get our first taste of a satisfying resolution to an impossible problem. S1E1 is really the perfect microcosm for ‘Borgen’ in this way: the program’s strengths lie in its brilliant protagonist and superbly realised storylines. Sidse Babett Knudsen  - who plays Nyborg - should take a lot of credit for this: she fills the 

‘politician with a conscience’ role stunningly well. Her character has a real, traceable story arc over the course of the show. She’s not the only actor/character of note in ‘Borgen’ though - Birgitte Hjort Sorensen and Pilou Asbaek fill their respective roles excellently too (the former is an ambitious political journalist, the latter, a dauntless spin doctor). The narrative benefits from constant alternation between these 3 and their individual struggles (they often over cross too). I haven’t even really told you what the series is about yet - well, better late than never. ‘Borgen’ follows Brigitte Nyborg, leader of Denmark’s moderate party, who shocks the nation in the series’ first episode to become Prime Minister - the ensuing parts of the 10 episode season document her attempts to protect her position. What’s most impressive about the show, I believe, is the way that each episode is fresh, and gripping: there’s a new situation for Nyborg to negotiate with each time, from the EU to American encroachment on Greenland. She’s forced to resolve complex situations on multiple occasions and it’s satisfying to watch (Series one episode two particularly stands out in this regard). I’ll give the final word on ‘Borgen’, though, to an actual MP who reviewed the series on IMDb - it’s ‘entirely realistic’, and the ‘balance between realism and scheming is also really well done’. There. Watch it.

I’ve left my hardest job till last here: Adam Curtis’ ‘Can’t Get You Out of My Head’, a dazzling documentary series, is what I’ll attempt to sell to you to finish off my article. I say attempt because never in my life have I come across a more mind-boggling program - I don’t really know where to begin with this (so I’ll look at what other people have said and reinterpret what I find). Basically, this show (which can be found on iPlayer) is a history of the modern world, realised through archive footage, Adam Curtis’ hypnotic narration and carefully chosen bits of pop music. The sum of these parts is an enchanting - and in parts haunting - whole. Curtis speaks about too much in the course of his six episode series for me to even begin recounting anything here, but essentially, his attention is focussed on the power structures in the world, and how they’ve managed to sustain themselves and evolve in periods of upheaval and revolution. His analysis is scoped through relevant individuals: people who thrived in the 20th Century by challenging the entrenched systems of power (importantly, they’re people who flew ‘under the radar of History-with-a-capital-H’ as Guardian journalist Lucy Mangan puts it). For example, Chairman Mao’s wife crops up again and again (Jiang Qing), a lady who unleashed deranged madness upon China; as does Michael de Freitas, whose story is remarkably interesting but too convoluted to share here - Tupac’s Mum appears too, as an inspirational figure in the New York Black Panther movement. Curtis doesn’t pull any punches in his examination of the West’s recent social and political history: there’s stark archive footage and discussion of Britain’s penchant for racism and bigotry. We’re told about the blossoming of paranoia in the American suburbs, and how this linked to the rapid spread of conspiracy theories; the reverberating effects of the collapse of the British empire is another central focus, and so is the growth of the banks and the dawn of mass surveillance. I love the interesting ditties that Curtis delves into - things that may change your view of the world - that have somehow fallen short of being common knowledge. His articulation of things is superb - masterful, even. I’m trying my hardest to do his work justice, but it’s really hard to do so: ‘Can’t Get You Out of My Head’ is a program with an epic scope, and totally unlike anything I’ve seen before. I wonder if the BBC have purposely hidden it away on iPlayer, such is its probing nature. You really need to see it, but be prepared to be chilled to the bone. It’s not a chore to get through, though. Quite the opposite. Once you’ve finished it, you’ll be wanting more. If you’re not convinced, read this - Can’t Get You Out of My Head review – Adam Curtis's 'emotional history' is dazzling | Television | The Guardian - which is an infinitely better advert for the show than what I’ve concocted (you’ll notice that I’ve knicked a lot from it). Thanks.

I apologise for the length of this post - I got a little carried away with myself. If you’ve made it to this point, thanks. Actually, no. You shouldn’t have been reading that sentence - you should, at this very moment, be watching the programmes I’ve recommended in this article. So, damn you if you’re comprehending these words. With that said, thanks for reading my self-indulgent ramblings! I hope that you’ve taken something from this post, whether that be a new programme or two to watch, or a feeling of disdain for my taste in television. Please, if you do go on to watch any of these shows, tweet me your thoughts @Torpaldo. Thanks.