James reviews Nightmare Tenants, Slum Landlords on 5*, For the Love of Dogs with Alison Hammond on ITV1 and Time Bandits (1981) on Film

Transcript

Hello, I’m James Brook, and welcome to the forty-third episode of ‘I Review Freeview.’

This is where I review Freeview programs. Go to IReviewFreeview.com to search, listen, or indeed read and/or comment on all my reviews, past and present. And it should be available in the usual places where you get your podcasts. If you’re curious about the future, see the ‘What’s up next’ section at the end, or look for the ‘what’s up next’ page. That’s IReviewFreeview - all one word - dot com.

In this episode, I will review:

Nightmare Tenants, Slum Landlords on 5*,
For the Love of Dogs with Alison Hammond on ITV1 and
Time Bandits (1981) on Film4

OK, so ‘Time Bandits’ has been one of my top ten films for many years now, so maybe it’s time to look at it with a more critical eye. And as for the other two, I was wanting a contrast with this film and each other. So one is probably going to be light and fluffy with wagging tails and enthusiastic walks, while in the other I’m expecting surly people doing unneighbourly things.

By the way, the image for this episode was generated by a free AI image generator with the prompt:

A silhouette of a cute little dog is jumping up at a ‘for rent’ sign for a decrepit house, while in the background is the misty, mysterious image of a giant clock.

I actually tried a new free image maker this time, and with a few extra prompts to add the planets, I’m pleased with the result. So, I’m feeling stupidly optimistic about these reviews!

So, here we go!

Nightmare Tenants, Slum Landlords (S 2 E 1) on 5*, Sunday 27 October, 5:00pm

Golly gosh, that’s an unappealing title isn’t it? Who really wants to know the true lives of other people? but then it is 8 years old, so maybe we can class it as social history. In any case, I don’t doubt is it’s being rebroadcast now as a cheap way for the network to fill up airtime.

We kick off with a depressing montage of evil landlords and rubbish tenants before moving on to West Yorkshire and the tale of factory worker Craig, who inherited a small house from his much missed grand parents. His mother worked in a fish shop with Peter, a chap looking to rent, connected the two and Peter moved in with his brother and mum.

The first sign of trouble was the neighbours complaining of cat smells.

Then Peter lost his job and stopped paying rent. So now, 3 months later, Craig heads off, hoping to get a court order. Will he or won’t he get it? Oh, the suspense!

And on that cliffhanger, the focus moves to Donovan. His tenant hasn’t paid her rent for 7 months, giving excuses that makes ‘the dog ate my homework’ sound plausible.

Donovan - all for a quiet life - goes knocking on the door hoping to get her out in exchange for the unpaid rent.

But she isn’t in, and so off he toddles to request a court order. Will he get it? Oh, the suspense!

And on that cliffhanger, we switch back to Craig. He got the order, and now it’s moving out day. They have been claiming there is trouble with the electrics, so Craig’s brought along his pal Kyle, an electrician.

Kyle, a hefty chap, knocks on the door. Peter answers. He’s probably looked out of the window, seen the film crew, and decided he wanted his five minutes of fame. We catch a few glimpses of inside the house. It’s a complete tip, making even a teenager’s fabled messy bedroom look pristine.

Peter’s Mum positions herself at the door, claiming they never got the court order, don’t have to move out, that they’ve got another property, and the neighbours don’t like cats. ‘What can we do?’ she says.

Kyle returns and he and Craig go for a pint. As they drive off, Craig asks what it’s like inside. ‘Nasty.’ is the reply. Craig says he’ll get the bailiffs in. Oh, the suspense. What happens next?

And on that cliffhanger, it’s time for a quick catchup with Donovan, who, remember, is heading to court for an eviction order.

(Ummm..) time, I think, for slight - but relevant - digression.

I can remember, years ago, seeing, on a Saturday morning, an episode or two of ‘The perils of Pauline’ starring Pearl White. They were short silent movies which usually ended with Pauline in great peril. Tied to a railway line with an express train approaching. Locked in a room with the house on fire or dangling over a cliff. (Ha!)

You see where I’m going with this? Cliffhangers! One of the best ways of keeping the punters wanting more.

The makers of ‘nightmare tenants etc etc’ must have thought, what worked in the 1950s to fill Saturday morning cinemas with pubescent children throwing chewing gum and sticky sweet wrappers at each other would also keep viewers watching a depressing documentary about needy people wanting a roof over their heads. Hence the frequent switches between one narrative and the next. Dramas need to keep audiences on the hop.

I can’t help thinking Shakespeare missed a trick here, when writing his tedious plays. Hamlet or Macbeth would have been vastly improved if the murders had been spaced out (as they usually are in - say - Midsomer Murders) instead of all being at the end. Apart from anything else, this would have given Nell Gwyn’s granny more opportunity to hawk extra oranges.

But we should get back to Donovan and his hopes of a court order. Or …. maybe not. Reviews should be more than a simple trudge through the plot. They should be a mixture of description, opinion, recommendation, and entertaining diversions. So, without further ado, here’s my opinion.

In some ways, this program is a bit of useful social history. I’ve no doubt many of the activities depicted are still going on, and tensions between landlords and tenants frequently happen. As the title states, both tenants and landlords can be total crap.

From a wider perspective, this surely points to a lack of affordable housing, which leads directly on to a debate about what the role of the state should be in keeping people warm and fed. Individualism vs state intervention, the haves vs the have nots, bosses vs workers, landlords vs tenants and finally that old chestnut, Socialism vs Capitalism. (chuckles) A whole university course.

But this isn’t a student debating society, thank God. I’m so glad I’m an old crinkly now, and no longer at college, sitting up late, having great thoughts without knowing anything about anything. (Poof!). Never ending circular arguments are so very, very tiring. (Grunt of amusement) I think it’s time to sum up.

I’m sure ‘Nightmare Tenants, Slum Landlords’ on 5* depicts events that happened. The presence of TV cameras probably meant there was less swearing than there might otherwise have been. Editing - as far as one could tell - was reasonable, although it is always hard to know what has been left on the cutting room floor.

The interlacing of the stories gave it momentum, albeit at the expense of continuity or depth. There was little examination of the wider issues involved, but right from the start you knew it wasn’t that sort of program. It would have been useful if, at the end, there had been a catchup - after all, it’s been 8 years.

This particular episode, in the main, highlighted landlords with troublesome tenants. I’m sure in other episodes, this emphasis would be reversed, with decent tenants having to deal with troublesome landlords.

It’s structured on dramatic lines, so you could watch it as if it were a soap opera, ignoring the fact these are real people having a rubbish time and then some.

Have I put it on series record? No, I have not: for me, there’s too much suspicion of prurient interest. I am uncomfortable with peeking into the messy realities of other people’s lives, and uninterested in the mechanics of eviction.

So no more watching for me. I’ve seen it once, and that will do.

And what have we now? Ah-ha! Woof woof!

For the Love of Dogs with Alison Hammond (S 12 E 6) on ITV1, Sunday 27 October, 5:00pm

For many years, I was a cat person. I liked their disdainful independence. Compared with dogs, you could go out for the evening without wondering if the carpet would be in one piece when you got back. But a cat now. A bit of scratching on a table leg, the odd, strange mating-or-angry howl in the middle of the night and the occasional half-chewed mouse in your slippers and that’s about it. And they have magic, vanishing poo. Who knows where they go. Nor do they require walkies in the rain or snow or anytime, come to that.

Yep cats for me. (Ha!) Until I retired and got a dog. And now, although I don’t have a dog any more, I’m still a dog person. Let’s face it, they think you’re God and are more reliably fun.

Also, I sometimes watch the TV show dogs behaving (woof!) very badly. I find it full of invaluable takes on how to handle my young grandkids. His advice is always the same: stay firm on asking for reasonable things, ignore - as far as possible - the things you don’t like and praise the things you do. Simples! (Ha!) If only.

So, I think: a half hour looking at dogs doing doggy stuff? count me in.

The program starts with a puff for Battersea dog’s home, although in the establishing shots it clearly likes to be called Battersea Dogs & Cats home. I think there was a glimpse of a kitten, but otherwise it was cat free.

The eponymous Alison Hammond is unselfconsciously large, loud and instantly likeable. She can hardly see a dog or puppy without giving it an enormous hug and, if possible, an extended cuddle.

First, she meets Giselle, a small, undernourished husky with a wonky rear leg that collapses after a few steps. You can see her ribs and she’s well underweight. She’s whisked off to the vet for an X-Ray. Everything looks fine in the bone department, so they’re going to build up her muscle and see how it goes. There’s talk of physio and hydrotherapy.

I have to say, huskies are not my favourite dog. Something about the blue eyes and the way they look at you. But Alison doesn’t care. Giselle is met with the same tidal wave of affection as the cutest of puppies.

And having bestowed endless love on a lame husky, Alison moves on to Willow, a ballooning pregnant Bichon Frise. Someone had dumped her at the gates, and - understandably - she had a worried look on her face. Alison wasn’t allowed to get too close, and had to make do with giving at extended ‘oooooo..’ through a half-opened door.

So, a little jump forward, and to the soundtrack of ‘it’s just too good to be true..’ we are shown Willow’s 5 puppies. Are they cute? Is the pope a Catholic? Do bears poo in the woods? Is water wet? Too right they’re cute. So cute they could polish your toenails with it.

Willow is out on a walk, so Alison is allowed a snuggle. And they need names! Oh, the excitement. To give you some context, when we got our dog, the whole family spent hours trying to decide a name. My initial idea of ‘Pickle’ was voted out (4 against 1) within seconds of being mentioned. So naming a dog is no small thing.

Or so you might think. Alison said, as the mum is called Willow, maybe they could all be called after trees.

So - within a couple of minutes, Maple, Twiggy, Hazel, Forest and Woody were all cosy-wosy in Alison’s embrace.

At one point they seemed to get them mixed up! Oh, what puppy larks!

And now, after seeing a husky being X-rayed and naming cute puppies, Alison introduces us to the third dog for this episode: Spencer, a springer spaniel so full of bounce he could get a job as a kangaroo.

‘Ten minutes of brain work,’ his keeper says, ‘is just as good as a two hour walk.’

Alison makes up a destruction box to keep his brain busy. A destruction box is a cardboard box with treats at the bottom and scrunched up paper and a couple of toys on top.

It takes Spencer all of 10 seconds to open the flap, stick his nose in and gobble the treats.

‘We’re going to have to think bigger with this one’ says his trainer.

We’re now 10 minutes in. The main characters have been introduced and Alison’s credentials as a dog cuddler well established. The rest of the program charts the progress of the dogs towards rehoming.

Giselle (the husky) gains weight and strength, but needs painkillers, and for a while things look pretty bleak. But slowly she puts on weight and starts to respond to physio and hydrotherapy. She ends up rehomed with Billy from Berkshire.

Willow (the Bichon Frise) gets less anxious about her pups, and they are being socialised. Alison puts on a cowboy hat and sunglasses. ‘How ya doing, puppies?’ she toots in a voice belonging to a character in a Popeye cartoon.

And in a sideways baseball cap she’s a skateboarder and as a grand finale she dons a wide brimmed hat and a Scottish accent. Who she’s meant to be is anyone’s guess, but she looks different, that’s the main thing.

All the non-pups involved are having a great time, while the pups themselves are happy to go along with it. They are given collars of different colours and eventually rehomed, mum Willow as well.

Spencer (hyper active Springer Spaniel) likes tennis balls and ends up with a couple from Milton Keynes, who keep him busy. ‘Ah, good on yer, Spence,’ says Alison.

I find it hard to know what to think about ‘For the Love of Dogs with Alison Hammond’. Sometimes, even now, when I meet up with someone with a dog, we’ll talk dog for 10 minutes before moving on. So I’m not averse to doggy chat.

And indeed, three short doggy stories, all with differing paths but the same happy outcome, is so totally unobnoxious, I almost find myself ticking myself off for watching. Shouldn’t TV be more challenging? The world has more problems than you can shake a bag of Bonio at and here I am, ignoring climate change, fascists and my laundry to watch moving images of oh, the cutest little puppies you’ve ever seen. Awwwwww. Melts your heart, doesn’t it?

And on that note of total capitulation, we move swiftly on to a bit of fantasy.

Time Bandits (1981) on Film4, Sunday 27 October, 6:00pm

As mentioned, this is one of my favourite films. So I’ve seen it several times since it came out over 40 years ago. It’s directed by ex-Python Terry Gilliam, who also directed Brazil, one of my other top picks.

‘Brazil’ is dark and borderline psychotic, whereas ‘Time Bandits’ is far lighter, with an almost pantomime emphasis on fun. Who could ever forget the sight of six dwarfs, garbed in rags and ribbons, clumsily performing ‘me and my shadow’ to a bemused Napoleon Bonaparte?

Frankly, if you don’t find that idea in the least bit funny, then you’re not living in my universe at all. (heavy sigh) yeah, well, there y’go.

The plot is a fine example of what iffery gone mad. What do I mean, ‘what iffery’ I hear no one shout. Well, imagine some people sat round a table, perhaps with beer or something stronger, trying to come up with a plot for a film. Someone says, ‘what if some minions of God stole a map?’ and someone else says ‘yeah, and what if the map allows them to travel through time?’ and then excitedly: ‘Yeah: what if they meet up with Napoleon and pinch his hat?’ And so forth and so on.

And pretty soon logical coherence is chucked out of the window as the chuckling scripters up the ante and force their protagonists to lurch from one absurd situation to the next.

In fact, ‘Time Bandits’ has a fair bit in common with that other great example of 1970s Brit wackiness, ‘the hitch hiker’s guide to the galaxy.’ Both feature ‘normal’ people, wearing dressing gowns, caught up in events over which they have little understanding and no control.

In ‘Hitchhiker’ Arthur Dent escapes earth just before it’s blown up to make room for an intergalactic superhighway.

In ‘Time Bandits’ Kevin - aged 11, and having parents who value kitchen gadgets more than him - gets involved with an unruly gang of dwarfs attempting to plunder their inept way through space-time portals with the aid of a stolen map.

In hot pursuit is the owner of the map: the supreme being, who appears as a mysterious threatening head. It’s noticeable, whenever the action seems about to lag, the head appears, making them dash to the next adventure.

The first stop is in Northern Italy, late in the 18th century, where Napoleon - played by Ian Holm as a man suffering from a monstrous attack of small person syndrome - is berating his generals for being too tall.

The dwarfs - being even smaller than he is - gain favour, drink him into stupor, grab as many valuables as they can find and leg it out of there, reaching the portal and vanishing just before being caught.

This time they’re deposited into a medieval forest where they are captured by a band of villainous, scabby, flea infested bandits. They are taken to their leader, who emerges majestically from a tent. It’s John Cleese, dressed in full Robin Hood regalia, as if appearing in a pantomime. Seeing all the loot they’ve stolen from Napoleon, he thanks them and distributes it to the poor.

It is around this point that we are introduced to Evil (played by David Warner with lip-curling disdain), locked in the fortress of ultimate darkness. Evil wants the map to enable him to rule the universe, and starts meddling, trying to make the dwarfs bring the map to him.

After meeting Robin hood, the gang gets split, and Kevin finds himself in ancient Greece, where he’s adopted by King Agamemnon (Sean Connery, with his avuncular hat on.) Kevin’s having a great time when the dwarfs appear and whisk him away to the Titanic, which promptly hits the iceberg and sinks.

So far, it’s been a picturesque romp with known historical figures, well - give or take a Robin Hood or two - but now, after splashing around in the Atlantic, they are taken to the age of legends, expanding possibilities of what iffery to the further reaches of imagination.

For in the age of legends, there are ogres and giants and - perched menacingly high on a mountain - the fortress of ultimate darkness, with Evil waiting for them to come to him. (Oooooo!)

Now, so far, I’ve mentioned pantomime twice in this review. This is intentional. Every time I’ve seen it, ‘Time Bandits’ makes me think of panto. Not that insipid snow white and the seven tedious dwarfs - but of anarchic, full blown, over the top, exaggerated, energetic family entertainment which - to me - is the essence of - or should be the essence of - a good panto.

So what if there isn’t a dame, or topical references or a girl with nice legs pretending to be a boy? In a structure so loose, they’d be relatively simple to include.

But - as so often - I digress. But I can’t help thinking, that’s one panto I’d travel to see.

So, back to Time Bandits, where things are building up to the climatic confrontation with Evil and his leering henchmen. Oh, they must have had a great time scripting this, the what ifs flying thick and fast. But, right in the final stretch, the conventions of pantomime are in many ways ignored. The ending - the actual ending - the last couple of minutes or so before the credits roll, is thoughtful and sad.

(Ha!)

Who needs an upbeat ending every time?

I very strongly recommend this film. It has very few dull bits and moves fast enough to paper over the plot holes. It has laugh-out-loud moments and absolutely no bathos. What more do you need? After all, comedy is too important to ever be taken seriously.

And that mangling of an Oscar Wilde quote concludes the reviews for this episode of ‘I Review Freeview.’

Next time, I will review:

Patricia Cornwell’s At Risk (2010) on Great! Movies, Saturday 2 November, 6:55pm
Gunpowder (S 1 E 1) on U&Drama, Saturday 2 November, 10:10pm and
LEGO Masters: Australia (S 5 E 7: T Minus Ten / All In) on E4, Sunday 3 November, 4:30pm

So, we’re back to eclectic mixes (again). First up, the seasonally dependant ‘Gunpowder’ which I missed last year and probably won’t be shown again for another 12 months, so I’m thinking to catch it while on. Now I really rate Patricia Cornwall as a writer, but will ‘At Risk’ be yet another vapid, run-of-the-mill snooze-fest churned out for the dosh? Listen and find out! And as for LEGO masters? Well, all I had as a kid was Meccano, with a tiny spanner and nuts and bolts that got lost and ruined the vacuum. So I shall be watching with interest.

(Amused grunt) We’ll see.

As ever, you can contact me via email to contact@IReviewFreeview.com or through the website IReviewFreeview.com, or from where you normally get your podcasts. Let me know what you think and - of course - if you want me to cast my beady eye on a particular program: film, documentary, whatever, then tell me.

And if you want to know what I’ll be reviewing next time, click on the page ‘What’s up next.’

Thank you for listening, and goodbye for now.