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Single Father
So I watched Single Father, BBC One's new vehicle for David Tennant's tear glands. Oh my sisters. (I say watched, I did start looking around for other forms of entertainment partway through, so it's possible that much of what I write here pertains to a fantasy version of the programme that I have made up in my head.)
Not only did they fridge the wife (to be fair, a necessary part of the plot), they fridged her twice, with the camera lingering lovingly over every single moment it took for the life to drain out of her. "Cripes," I thought, "that's punchy, and I'm not sure I like it so much." At least in Lewis he just mopes around holding a ready-meal with a framed photograph lurking out-of-focus in the background.
I started to get an uneasy feeling that Wifie was being punished for fecundity (from what I gathered there were several children with Mr Tennant, not to mention one from another relationship, and plans for another Time Tot). So it was hard not to hear the Daily Mail editorial spluttering in my head: "CHILDREN! SO MANY CHILDREN! SO MUCH FERTILITY! NOT ALL FROM ONE MAN! AND MORE! MORE OF THEM ARE COMING! CHILDREN! BENEFITS! WELFARE! UNDESERVING! CUTS!" That would have been quite creepy, and I don't, in fact, think that was the intention (for one thing, the family was way too middle class to get that kind of slur thrown at them). What seemed to be going on was more on the lines of: "CHILDREN! SO MANY CHILDREN! EACH ONE MEANS MORE GRIEF!" which was compounded by the music, which kept on swelling at moments of purportedly high emotional content: "Hear the MUSIC! Hear how it SWELLS! As it SWELLS you are commanded to FEEL!" "Cripes," I thought, popping back in from the kitchen, "this is bit coercive."
Sudden bereavement, particularly in childhood, can be a cataclysmic experience, and I do applaud the BBC for taking it as subject matter. Going by the links on the main page, this is certainly what the programme thinks it's doing. But the manner in which the story has unfolded so far makes me think that the subject matter is less bereavement itself, and more bereavement as a metaphor for a man discovering that he has deep, loving feelings that are almost terrifying in their intensity. Which is a great story, a wonderful story - I just don't think you need to kill the wife and traumatize the kids in order for such a story to unfold, and perhaps it might be better if the man discovered this about himself in relation to a living wife, and his kids as they are. As it is, emotional growth seems to be predicated almost on its impossibility: occurring only on condition of the absence or the devastation of the loved ones. Which seems a costly and rather tragic way of going about reconstructing masculinity.
Not only did they fridge the wife (to be fair, a necessary part of the plot), they fridged her twice, with the camera lingering lovingly over every single moment it took for the life to drain out of her. "Cripes," I thought, "that's punchy, and I'm not sure I like it so much." At least in Lewis he just mopes around holding a ready-meal with a framed photograph lurking out-of-focus in the background.
I started to get an uneasy feeling that Wifie was being punished for fecundity (from what I gathered there were several children with Mr Tennant, not to mention one from another relationship, and plans for another Time Tot). So it was hard not to hear the Daily Mail editorial spluttering in my head: "CHILDREN! SO MANY CHILDREN! SO MUCH FERTILITY! NOT ALL FROM ONE MAN! AND MORE! MORE OF THEM ARE COMING! CHILDREN! BENEFITS! WELFARE! UNDESERVING! CUTS!" That would have been quite creepy, and I don't, in fact, think that was the intention (for one thing, the family was way too middle class to get that kind of slur thrown at them). What seemed to be going on was more on the lines of: "CHILDREN! SO MANY CHILDREN! EACH ONE MEANS MORE GRIEF!" which was compounded by the music, which kept on swelling at moments of purportedly high emotional content: "Hear the MUSIC! Hear how it SWELLS! As it SWELLS you are commanded to FEEL!" "Cripes," I thought, popping back in from the kitchen, "this is bit coercive."
Sudden bereavement, particularly in childhood, can be a cataclysmic experience, and I do applaud the BBC for taking it as subject matter. Going by the links on the main page, this is certainly what the programme thinks it's doing. But the manner in which the story has unfolded so far makes me think that the subject matter is less bereavement itself, and more bereavement as a metaphor for a man discovering that he has deep, loving feelings that are almost terrifying in their intensity. Which is a great story, a wonderful story - I just don't think you need to kill the wife and traumatize the kids in order for such a story to unfold, and perhaps it might be better if the man discovered this about himself in relation to a living wife, and his kids as they are. As it is, emotional growth seems to be predicated almost on its impossibility: occurring only on condition of the absence or the devastation of the loved ones. Which seems a costly and rather tragic way of going about reconstructing masculinity.