James reviews 'Passenger' on ITV1 and 'Building off the grid: Yurts So Good' on Dmax.

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

There is a short intro podcast, which you can listen to if you like. But really it’s straightforward: you suggest upcoming Freeview programs and I review them. If no-one suggests anything, then I have a look and choose something myself.

Remember: send suggestions and comments to contact@ireviewfreeview.com or go to IReviewFreeview dot com.

In this episode I will be reviewing:

1. Passenger on ITV1 and

2. Building off the grid: Yurts So Good on Dmax.

That’s a new 6 parter on Channel 5, where something dangerous seems to be lurking in the woods and a documentary about a couple building a circular tent in the wilds of Montana, where the wildlife includes bears.

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

a moody oil painting of a yurt in a snowy forest.

So, here we go.

Passenger (S 1 Ep 1) on ITV1, Sunday March 24th at 9:00pm

I’ve just asked an AI chatbot the following question:

What do you call a drama that has a diverse set of characters involved in what seems like unrelated activities and incidents. However you know that, in the end, it will all connect up.

And in typical overblown AI fashion, the answer was:

The type of dramatic structure you’re describing is often referred to as an “ensemble” or “multiplot” narrative structure. In this approach, the story unfolds through the perspectives of multiple characters, each engaged in their own activities and storylines that may initially appear disconnected. However, … blah blah blah …. revealing the underlying connections between the characters and their actions…. blah blah blah and so forth and so on.

Wanting something simpler, I texted a friend, who - after a while - came back with ‘Interwoven.’

And then two minutes later she sent another text: ‘used AI. sorry’

Ha! Is there no escape from our future robot overlords? But I’ll go with ‘interwoven’. Or whatever.

So we have, in ‘Passenger’ a sprawling mass of interwoven plots and different characters. It starts with a man driving a lorry through a snowy forest. Thinking something might have happened, he stops, puts on a gasmask and opens the back to investigate. His eyes open wide as he sees something there or sees something that should be there but isn’t there.

Meantime a young couple seem to be having fun in a pub. The boy is extremely drunk. They stagger out, to be confronted by the girl’s boyfriend, who violently punches the drunk lad.

Somewhere else, in the snow, is an old bearded chap in a caravan. He looks like a harmless tramp: what with the snow and the murky light it’s difficult to tell. Assembled at a gate is a small group of protesters, objecting about something. What, I don’t know.

I’m already losing track when we are introduced to what I think will be the main character, the one who ties it all together. She’s a 40-year-old policewoman, probably a detective inspector. I say ‘probably’ because - as far as I remember, no-one actually says what species of copper she actually is.

She’s in a gym talking to a chap with a beard about - I think - boxing?

Again, it’s annoyingly difficult to tell, as, to make it natural, characters don’t go around telling other characters what they already know. It’s a real pain in the backside: it’s like joining a group of strangers who all know each other, are talking about people you haven’t met, yet expect you - somehow, magically - to catch up. It might be good for verisimilitude, but it can keep us poor viewers in the dark for ages. Or maybe that’s just me, and I’m simply not sharp enough.

Anyway, we are now back in the snowy forest, where the girl is - presumably - driving home. The drunk boy is sleeping in the back. Something - it could be a body - lands with a tremendous thump on the bonnet of her car. She gets out and goes into the trees, hears a threatening sound. Her eyes widen.

Back with the policewoman …. OK, OK, you get the idea: it’s like being in a sushi bar, with small bowls of tasty titbits going past. But instead of picking the ones you really want, we’re being forcefed every single item. The brain is constantly scrabbling, trying to keep up.

Maybe I should sit, like a little gnome, absorbing what’s in front of me, trusting that - at some point in the future - it’ll all come together. That I’ll be able to make sense of a whole raft of disparate elements, including a disembowelled stag, a lad playing one of those old, text based creepy computer games and a recently released highly dangerous prisoner that everyone’s afraid of.

Come to think of it, maybe the stag is what dropped on the bonnet of the car? If so, what happened to the blood?

I suppose it might end - but I really, really hope it doesn’t - with one of those ghastly ‘Death in Paradise’ denouements, with the detective demonstrating to the gathered suspects what a plonker he is before the murderer is lead away.

Ah. But wait! Update! Stop press! Since watching the first episode, I’ve heard the writer being interviewed. He does sound remarkably sane and OK. And it’s mentioned the old guy in the caravan is looking after a fracking site. Hence the protesters at the gate.

Did I miss this? Perhaps I did. Maybe a text came in and disrupted my attention.

Which brings me briefly to the uninteresting subject of the responsibility of the viewer towards the creator. Returning to the Sushi bar for a moment, perhaps my attitude should be more trusting that I’m being presented with a complete meal, albeit in small, bite-sized portions, and so I should concentrate on every mouthful, instead of resentfully ramming them down my throat like a bag of crisps and expecting my stomach to assemble them - like so many lego bricks - into that long desired coherent narrative.

You will be pleased to know, that is the end of the sushi bar analogue. It was pretty dumb in the first place and I’ve just stretched it into the further reaches of the stupidverse. Huh.

So, where does this all leave us, vis-a-vis ‘Passenger’?

I truly don’t know. None of the characters lingered long enough to make a lasting impression. I find I don’t really care if they’re torn to pieces or get punched in the face or have a nice cup of tea and a bun.

Also, in the interview it was claimed ‘passenger’ was a comedy. They even played an unfunny clip in a doomed attempt to prove it. Comedy? I saw - or heard - nothing comic at all, so I really don’t know where that is coming from.

And, while I’m at it, they really should have done something about the lighting. Even the interiors were dark and gloomy.

Oh, I don’t know: usually, when I’m unsure about a program I give it a night’s sleep and see how I feel in the morning. Well, I saw this when it came out on Sunday. It’s now Tuesday: that’s two nights. Mind you, other things have occurred: I went shopping this morning for instance, and I’m thinking I might have to go out again for a pair of socks and a banana.

Whatever. I find the one thing I haven’t really done is wonder what happens next in ‘Passenger.’ Which just about sums it up. I don’t care enough. And if you don’t care, there’s little left.

Sorry. I feel as if I’ve let a lot of nice people down.

Oh well. Onwards! Sideways(?) Who knows.

Building off the grid: Yurts So Good on Dmax, Monday 25th March at 7:00am

This perky little USA documentary should have really been called ‘the adventure of the flat-packed yurt’.

Well, if Ikea can do flat-packed houses, buying and erecting a flat-pack yurt in Montana should be a breeze. Just make sure to hang the doors the right way round and don’t lose the Allen key.

It’s a bit like watching ‘Grand Designs’ but thankfully without the most boring man on UK TV droning on front and centre.

Instead, we have two very smiley Montana newly-weds, Caitlin and Chris, living in a small apartment with two large and hairy dogs. Understandably, they want more space and are attracted to living off the grid, so off they toddle off and buy some land with a creek, a view from the mountains and not a utility to be found.

I expect they had endless discussions about now what? Log cabin? Shack? Converted container? Underground cave complex? No, none of these. Very sensibly, they settled on a yurt.

For those of you not exactly sure what a yurt is, it’s a large round tent with high walls. Genghis Khan probably had a mongolian yurt called a ger. And - depending on how you measure these things - he did quite well for himself.

Yurts are designed for a nomadic existence on the Mongolian steppes. They can be taken down or put up in a hour or so.

Well, Caitlin and Chris have given themselves 6 weeks. Genghis Khan would not have been impressed: in that time he conquered half of Europe. But then he probably wouldn’t have recognised the luxury, 30 foot diameter structure complete with sky dome and composting toilet that our toothsome pair mean to construct.

They are a little distant from the nearest road: frustratingly, we are not told how distant. But we are frequently shown their oversized beach buggy, complete with trailer, trundling up and down a narrow track, transporting yurt components to the site.

There’s no sawing or drilling of holes or frantic dashes for a missing nut to the Montana equivalent of B&Q: it’s all been measured, cut exactly to length, pre-drilled and with fixings already attached. It’s an assembly job, on a par with putting together the contents of about a thousand randomly delivered Ikea boxes. But we never see them looking puzzled, hunched over diagrams showing how bit A should fit with bit B. But I bet they did.

The circular walls are put up and held together with wire, which also ties in the roof struts.

It all seems too easy, too smooth. Whenever they need more manpower, friends or the construction team from the yurt company arrive, and the work goes on.

The dogs don’t help, but we do have animated diagrams showing the construction process, with big ticks as each stage is completed. Building on a slope, they start with a horizontal platform, supported by struts anchored by concrete blocks. And on top of that will be the yurt proper.

It does go up remarkably quickly. For someone like me, who’s experience with building anything mainly consists of drinking tea while waiting for a skip, it’s fantastic.

I think: yeah: to solve the housing crisis, we can all live in yurts and, with composting toilets doing their bit, we can all grow veg and become self-sufficient! At one with nature! Carbon neutral!

This idea rather takes a knock when the buggy - oh, sorry: I’ve been told it’s an ‘All Terrain Vehicle’ or ATV. Oh, I’m glad that’s sorted. Anyway, the ATV chugs into view, only just making it up the track, bringing a gigantic wood burning stove.

‘I can’t wait to be all warm and cosy in the winter!’ trills Caitlin.

Solar panels are installed, water is diverted from the creek through a filtration system, and a bear-proof electric fence is erected. The stages are ticked off. From the air, the yurt, surrounded by trees, looks tiny.

In fact, a 30 ft circular tent has a floor area of about 66sq meters. For comparison, a two story, two bed house in the UK has slightly more. But the yurt looks so spacious, with the vaulted ceiling giving an impressive feeling of grandeur.

Looking for interior design ideas, Caitlin and Chris visit 3 yurts linked together. Luxury kitchens! Opulent bedrooms! Bathrooms to die for. But these are on concrete and connected to the grid. Makes a difference. Bear proof fencing is not required.

They section off what looks like a sizable portion of the yurt for a bathroom, paint the loo purple and squeeze a guest bed on top.

When it’s all done, friends come calling and are gratifyingly astonished. They stand on the deck and look at the view. Which is absolutely stunning.

All the stages have been ticked off. The project is complete. Time for a coda: ‘3 months later’ is the caption.

Caitlin and Chris haven’t turned into hairy mountain people. Chris’s designer stubble remains suitably clipped.

It’s the morning, and Caitlin, dressed smartly and carrying a briefcase, takes the ATV off to work.

So they can’t be that far off grid. They’re probably within easy ATV striking distance of urban life and offices, phones, power lines, running water and even a coffee shop.

And why not? The best of both worlds. A view’s a view, but a view with modern amenities, a shop or two and oh, who knows, other people? Could well be considered better.

Also, I can’t help thinking, what if they have children? The yurt seems ideal for two adults who get along, but harmony soon fractures under the assault of the mess and chaos of babies and kids: lego bits on the floor; smelly nappies at 4 in the morning; endless disagreements and arguments over trivial matters because everyone’s fed up and tired and what d’you do about the bear-proof fence? Put up another fence to keep your toddler away from it?

I’m sure you’d soon dream of a suburban 3 yurt arrangement.

But that’s all in my head. On the TV, Caitlin goes off the work, Chris ruminates about something and the documentary finishes, just like that.

I watched in the first place as I’ve always felt yurts were one of the good things in life. As a child I must have seen a picture of one and thought ‘I want to live in a round tent.’

But it never happened. And when we went on a camping holiday, our x-army, heavy duty tent was tediously rectangular. And when it rained, the cry would be, ‘don’t touch the sides!’

Oh..camping: (laughs) the destroyer of so many dreams.

I’ll never live in a yurt now. Not even a flat-packed one someone else has built for me. And I don’t think I’d like to anyway: I’d worry about insulation and getting cold: vaulted ceilings might look impressive, but they’re a real bugger to heat. So, not for me. And d’you know what? I really don’t mind.

But good luck to Caitlin and Chris, off-grid in Montana.

And that concludes the reviews in this episode of ‘I Review Freeview.’

Don’t forget, contact me through the website Ireviewfreeview.com or email contact@ireviewfreeview.com.

Thank you for listening, and goodbye for now.