G.B.H.

This is Alan Bleasdale at his very best - 'GBH' ranks up there with other outstanding drama series such as 'The Singing Detective' and 'Edge of Darkness'. While GBH is a drama it's not all deadly serious - as with real life, 'lighter' situations develop naturally from circumstances that are anything but, yet the situations are so natural, the script so flawless and the performances and the direction so perfect that everything flows together beautifully.

GBH is a very analytical and well observed view of politics, power, and how it affects the people involved.

It's first class - I wish that more TV drama was as good as this!

GBH is a remarkable miniseries: superbly written, directed and acted. The characterisations are especially outstanding, with some of the most genuinely nasty bad guys I've ever seen; though many of the main characters are multi-faceted, and evolve before your eyes as the series unfolds.

In part it's a story about how The Left can be manipulated by the Far Right; in other ways it is a character study, particularly of Palin's character - even if occasionally the comedy sits just a little uneasily with the drama. Given the series' intensity though, it's faintly amazing that they were able to get with some scenes at all.

I do have a few criticisms of GBH. At times it can be painfully slow, with some scenes which are stretched out for minutes, to no real purpose. Also, the eccentric, obnoxious hotel owner is obviously inspired by Basil Fawlty, and his antics get just a little distracting.

I would give GBH about 8.5, but to quote a record review I remember reading (actually it was of an Elvis Costello album, and Costello provides background music to the series), "by the standards of mortal craftsmanship, this is a wondrous thing indeed."

This is British drama at it's ultimate. There has been little to touch it since it's release. Bleasedale's script is full of twists and turns taking you from outright hatred and revulsion of the main characters through pity, sympathy and finally on to adoration.

The story is truly mesmerising, on the face of it a plain story of extreme left-wing politics in local government. So very typical of the late 70's and early 80's Britain and led to the phrase "Loony Left".

As the story progresses we learn that not all is quite what it seems. Michael Murray (Robert Linsay) is shown to be just as much of a pawn of the system, as the wretched Jim Nelson (Michael Palin) who he tries to take down in the first few episodes.

The acting is powerful, and way beyond what is expected of a TV drama. Look out for many of Bleasedale's favourite actors throughout the story.

Sadly this was one of the last real dramas produced and funded by UK Channel 4 before they were forced by the UK government to produce more 'popular' programming. A move that eventually forced C4 from becoming the major source of funding for British film, into nothing more than a proud sponsor.

During CoVid-19 lockdown I have re-watched GBH for first time since it was shown in 1991. I had forgotten just how good it is but also realised how relevant it still is today. So many references to things happening now, or one step away! On a personal note my mother appears as an extra in the series, so a double pleasure.

'GBH' set a formidable standard for TV drama to follow when it was first shown on Channel 4 in 1991, and nothing managed to better it. It is, superficially, the story of two men. The first is Michael Murray (Robert Lindsay), the brash leader of the council of an unnamed Northern city (but blatantly inspired by the Derek Hatton regime in 1980s Liverpool- only Hatton was never this fascinating!). Murray is, it seems a man who runs the town like a gangster and a 'baddie'. The other is Jim Nelson (Michael Palin in his best ever dramatic performance) the idealistic headmaster of a school for special needs children). The arena is set for a funny two-hour film about politicians and the common man. But 'GBH' is 11 hours long; we are taken into the deepest recesses of the two protagonists' minds- Murray is hounded by a memory from his schooldays and even in his brief moment of triumph suddenly shouts 'I wish I was a good man!' Nelson, although standing up to Murray, becomes shocked at his own courage, which leads to him seeking psychiatric help. Meanwhile, the scope of the series widens from local to national, with both men caught in a plot of ever-increasing complexity where our feelings for characters deepen with the revelations about them onscreen. Robert Young directs the series with astonishing cinematic flair and Alan Bleasdale shows again why he is as good a television writer as Dennis Potter, if not better. The incredible scope of the series puts it in the same league as the greatest mini-series of all, 'Edge of Darkness'. It encompasses heartbreaking tragedy (the electrocution scene) with hilarious comedy (Murray, stricken with a twitch and a 'Strangelove' arm, trying to find condoms in a hotel full of 'Doctor Who' fans) with consummate ease. It remains hard to find nowadays- the discontinued VHS release has been sold for exorbitant amounts - but it remains the jewel of 90s television and is not to be missed if you get the chance to see it.