Peter Capaldi is the writer, director and presenter of Cricklewood Greats, a beautifully crafted, finely detailed and unapologetically affectionate pastiche, telling the story of a once legendary, now defunct, British film studio.
It would seem that Cricklewood Studio’s output wasn’t entirely dissimilar to other cinematic notables such as George Melies, Gracie Fields, The Carry On series and Hammer Horror, before being dealt its death blow by the financial and artistic excesses of a Terry Gilliam vanity project in the 1980s. The documentary disinters examples of each genre, as well as providing potted biographies of Cricklewood’s greatest stars, such as wartime sweetheart Florrie Fontaine - later revealed to be a Nazi sympathiser - and tragic 1960s sex bomb Jenny Driscoll. Adding further verisimilitude to the proceedings, Gilliam appears onscreen and cheerfully reminisces about Professor Hypochondria’s Magical Odyssey, the cinematic debacle that condemned the studio to demolition, and helped eradicate eight decades of British cinema history.
Deadpan of face and dry in delivery, Capaldi is terrific. Whether wandering awestruck through the aisles of the DIY megastore that now stands in Cricklewood Studio’s place, or lovingly caressing the enormous eyebrow of its founder Arthur Sim, he hits exactly the right note between sincerity and absurdity.
I loved every minute of Cricklewood Greats, and forgive its occasional tendency to push a little too hard for a laugh, unbalancing the mock-doc equilibrium.
Will wonders never cease? It looks like CBBC has succeeded where countless others have failed and found gainful employment for John and Edward Grimes, collectively and better known as Jedward.
Jedward’s Big Adventure sends the twins and their mega-quiffs off around the UK to learn facts, figures and history surrounding various national landmarks. The pair then adopt the guise of rival tour guides and compete to pass on the information to two parties of tourists.
The obligatory messy forfeit awaits the loser.
A pair of celebrities are recruited to help out- Brian Dowling and Joe Swash in the first instance - presumably because the producers still harboured doubts about Jedward’s ability to carry a show unaided.
They needn’t have worried. Jedward’s brand of high-energy inanity fits the format perfectly. Why walk and talk when you can run, cartwheel, scream, gurn and high five continuously? Their exertions are accompanied by strident music, manic graphics, excellent animations and a sonorous narration, all of which combines to undeniably entertaining effect.
Moreover, and despite all the distractions, Jedward’s Big Adventure actually succeeds in getting the relevant facts across. Jedward and education mentioned in the same sentence, who would have thought it?
Episode one sent Jedward to the Tower Of London, where some very patient Yeomen Warders, aka Beefeaters, resisted the temptation to run them through with their halberds long enough to explain about the ravens, Anne Boleyn, Traitor’s Gate, the royal menagerie and the rest.
A trip to the dungeons revealed such torture instruments as thumbscrews and the rack but not, surprisingly, Jedward’s debut single Under Pressure (Ice Ice Baby) featuring Vanilla Ice. Unless it was considered too distressing for a CBBC audience to witness.
Cricklewood Greats, BBC4, Sunday, February 5, 9pm
Jedward’s Big Adventure, CBBC, Monday, February 6, 4.30pm
Harry Venning
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