#61 Osman Warning
15/04/21 08:09
I haven’t watched anything new this week because I’ve been too busy shopping and wild swimming. Yes, I know it’s just ‘swimming’ and you’ve seen far too many Guardian articles, but I’m a vaguely melancholic middle-aged woman so of course it follows I’m one of those DryRobe wankers. Anyway, because I’ve been gadding about, the only thing I’ve seen is THAT episode of Line of Duty, but since the rest of the country also watched it, screaming and freeze-framing the fuck out of a briefly-glimpsed file photo, I thought you’d appreciate my take on it.
In the interests of full disclosure, I thought the first three episodes of the series verged on a mix of baffling and slightly dull. Also, if French & Saunders had a show on, they would definitely have done a spoof of it by now; Jen as Ted Hastings with a peaked cap rammed to her side, yelling ‘Mother of God’ as Dawn sports a Kate ‘do and sucked-in pout, hands jammed in pockets, hanging around in seedy underpasses waiting for Steve ‘Davis’ Arnott to turn up. God, it would be good, that sketch. They should make it. But it would highlight how on the cusp of absurd the whole thing is, a hair’s breadth from farce. Police farce.
I love it though, of course I do. Even when I don’t understand where Steve got the T-shirt that he wears in bed with Steph Corbett – was it under his waistcoat AND his shirt? That’s some serious layering. Or did he borrow one off her dead husband? But this jarring sartorial issue was balanced by him stepping up – or rather, rolling over, like a total HERO in episode four. Yep, LOD went up a gear, did an about-turn, and roared off down a side alley, strobes flashing.
For the first half of the ep, nothing much happened, and having read a few rave reviews telling me to expect the good stuff, I started to bristle, but then it all kicked off in a fricking SHOOT-OUT. Now, those prisoner convoys always get rumbled by baddies throwing out spike strips. It happens so often it makes me think it would be easier to transport a convict quietly and without ceremony, in an Uber. So, I was expecting a hijack, but bloody hell, a full-on hail of bullets, blue-on-blue?! It was mind-blowing (as well as horribly sad when PS Ruby Jones was killed), then Steve took out the sniper and suddenly Regé-Jean Page has a rival to play Bond.
Anyway, they go to all that trouble for crooked solicitor Jimmy Lakewell, who I couldn’t remember at all from previous series – could only think of him as Neil in The Office – and then he insists on going straight back to jail, where he gets whacked like the rat he isn’t. What a bummer. Except I’m assuming he said something useful to Steve in the van before the exchange of fire. Will actual gun battles on the streets of Britain persuade resident pig-headed honchos Andrea Wise and Rohan Sindwhani that maybe AC-12 shouldn’t be disbanded? That there are indeed BENT COPPERS™ in the force?
Meanwhile, Kate and Jo Davidson are continuing their vague faux-flirtation until that scumbag Ryan Pilkington puts a sawn-off shotgun in the works. Gregory Piper is doing such a good job playing Ryan – he looks about fifteen, but has the ice-chip stare of an OCG henchman. When he finally goes down (my money’s on Jo strangling him with her bare hands), Twitter’s going to do its nut.
But for now, Twitter is in a tizz about that mahoosive cliffhanger, the revelation that Jo is related to someone close to the case. Obviously after the show, I studied the file photo like a forensic botanist examining Cowslip seeds on a corpse. It’s Jo, right? The photo is a red herring. But that doesn’t stop us speculating who the mystery rellie is. It could be John Corbett, Gill Biggeloe, Tommy Hunter (Scottish link), Mike Dryden (also Scottish), or Dot, or Jackie Laverty. Or Lindsey Denton. Or someone else.
Basically, as my dad put it: ‘It’s really exciting, but I have no idea who’s doing what, or why.’ When I’m on my next wild swim, my head in the clouds, I’ll work it all out.
In the interests of full disclosure, I thought the first three episodes of the series verged on a mix of baffling and slightly dull. Also, if French & Saunders had a show on, they would definitely have done a spoof of it by now; Jen as Ted Hastings with a peaked cap rammed to her side, yelling ‘Mother of God’ as Dawn sports a Kate ‘do and sucked-in pout, hands jammed in pockets, hanging around in seedy underpasses waiting for Steve ‘Davis’ Arnott to turn up. God, it would be good, that sketch. They should make it. But it would highlight how on the cusp of absurd the whole thing is, a hair’s breadth from farce. Police farce.
I love it though, of course I do. Even when I don’t understand where Steve got the T-shirt that he wears in bed with Steph Corbett – was it under his waistcoat AND his shirt? That’s some serious layering. Or did he borrow one off her dead husband? But this jarring sartorial issue was balanced by him stepping up – or rather, rolling over, like a total HERO in episode four. Yep, LOD went up a gear, did an about-turn, and roared off down a side alley, strobes flashing.
For the first half of the ep, nothing much happened, and having read a few rave reviews telling me to expect the good stuff, I started to bristle, but then it all kicked off in a fricking SHOOT-OUT. Now, those prisoner convoys always get rumbled by baddies throwing out spike strips. It happens so often it makes me think it would be easier to transport a convict quietly and without ceremony, in an Uber. So, I was expecting a hijack, but bloody hell, a full-on hail of bullets, blue-on-blue?! It was mind-blowing (as well as horribly sad when PS Ruby Jones was killed), then Steve took out the sniper and suddenly Regé-Jean Page has a rival to play Bond.
Anyway, they go to all that trouble for crooked solicitor Jimmy Lakewell, who I couldn’t remember at all from previous series – could only think of him as Neil in The Office – and then he insists on going straight back to jail, where he gets whacked like the rat he isn’t. What a bummer. Except I’m assuming he said something useful to Steve in the van before the exchange of fire. Will actual gun battles on the streets of Britain persuade resident pig-headed honchos Andrea Wise and Rohan Sindwhani that maybe AC-12 shouldn’t be disbanded? That there are indeed BENT COPPERS™ in the force?
Meanwhile, Kate and Jo Davidson are continuing their vague faux-flirtation until that scumbag Ryan Pilkington puts a sawn-off shotgun in the works. Gregory Piper is doing such a good job playing Ryan – he looks about fifteen, but has the ice-chip stare of an OCG henchman. When he finally goes down (my money’s on Jo strangling him with her bare hands), Twitter’s going to do its nut.
But for now, Twitter is in a tizz about that mahoosive cliffhanger, the revelation that Jo is related to someone close to the case. Obviously after the show, I studied the file photo like a forensic botanist examining Cowslip seeds on a corpse. It’s Jo, right? The photo is a red herring. But that doesn’t stop us speculating who the mystery rellie is. It could be John Corbett, Gill Biggeloe, Tommy Hunter (Scottish link), Mike Dryden (also Scottish), or Dot, or Jackie Laverty. Or Lindsey Denton. Or someone else.
Basically, as my dad put it: ‘It’s really exciting, but I have no idea who’s doing what, or why.’ When I’m on my next wild swim, my head in the clouds, I’ll work it all out.
- Line of Duty, Series 6, Episode 4, BBC One
