| Baker Boys- Out of This World |
Television Arts Feature |
| BBC One Wales , BBC One Wales , February 14, 2011 |
On September 20th last year Nicholas Kent of the Tricycle Theatre in Kilburn received an email of congratulation from Afghanistan’s ambassador in Ankara. On September 30th he shared a platform with an Air Vice-Marshal from the UK embassy in Washington. The cause was the “the Great Game”, a collection of plays dealing with Afghanistan, past and present. It has played to diplomats, soldiers and senior policy-makers. Twelve playwrights have contributed to “the Great Game”. Ron Hutchison from Ulster is there as is David Greig from Edinburgh. Regiments from all across the United Kingdom are deployed in Helmand. In theatre's response to Afghanistan drama from Wales is absent. And it always will be absent. One hundred and eighty minutes of new television drama is an event. “Baker Boys” has three major weaknesses. Its depiction of a town in Wales is peculiar. Its research is filled with error and oddity. Its language is lacking in suppleness and versatility. A script has twenty minutes to tell its audience what it is. The opening exposition is done with skill. The Trefynydd Social Club party scene ends at twenty minutes and one second. It is to be “the Full Monty” and “Brassed Off,” a familiar genre that can be traced back at least to “Babes in Arms”, a 1939 Judy Garland and Micky Rooney vehicle. It is not going to be novel but there is no reason why there should not be a Welsh variant. “We can do things as a community we never could as individuals” says Gwynfor in a last speech. That is a theme both stirring and worthwhile, not least in these “Big Society” days. But the Wales in this script is stripped of all civic and political structure. There are no councillors, no MP’s, no business advisors, no Assembly staff, not even any media interest. In a display of epic but false self-helpery a company buy-out is conducted from which all lawyers, accountants, advisors are banished. This raises two points; firstly sheer curiosity as to the motivation behind presenting a Wales stripped of its political texture. Secondly, all manner of dramatic potential is sidestepped. Most people believe, for example, that the nationalised banks are taking the mickey. Here is a situation that is begging for a pungent and probing encounter between bank and industry. It does not happen. The last of the Time Lords frequently went adventuring in parallel worlds. This Trefynydd equally belongs in a parallel universe. "All we have finally is the words” wrote the late Raymond Carver “so they'd better be the right ones." A BBC executive makes claim that “Baker Boys” ends on a cliff-hanger. For the last fifteen minutes Rob threatens to “pull his money out”. But in the terms that the script has set up this is quite meaningless. Not once, but twice, the script has written quite specifically that his forty thousand pounds is not a loan. It is not just that the character has no right to the money but that the bakery would be breaking the law to do so. So a dramatic climax has been constructed which has no drama to it, at least not in our world. (The character is also broken off mid-speech by an unexpected character entry. This is a stage technique. It works there but is not good television.) The basic episode one situation of instantaneous closure and lock-out lacks plausibility. This is partly because of the detail that the script writes in later. Company administrators operate under unambiguous legal and professional obligations which are waived here. They do not send “men in suits, with little notebooks, cameras, those laser measuring devices” under cover of nightfall. Closure announcement is not delegated to a low-ranking local manager. (It is noticeable that hapless Mr Jenkins, once he has served this role, vanishes from the scene.) The valuation of distressed industrial assets is presented oddly. The script seems to propose that like train fares or council tax they are set by diktat. They are not. The viewer is left wondering which insolvency practitioners were consulted by the researchers. The point is repeated that the bakery workers must put in their redundancy money but the real risk is the bank debt. In this world the kindly bank does not seem to put a charge on the investors’ personal assets. The hazard of losing their houses would not only have ratcheted up the dramatic tension but deepened the personal tensions within the families. To demonstrate the sheer busy-ness of working life a call is taken from “Foods Standards” announcing a visit. They do not appear although it would have made for dramatic interest. But the words used are simply the wrong ones. Does this matter? Fiction is illusion. But a writer fashions a new world out of the materials of this existing world. In our world we share a common fabric of laws and codes, prohibitions and tolerances. The martial arts movies from Hong Kong happily suspend the laws of gravity with gusto. But script editors would not permit a character to jump twenty feet. If a theft or murder were committed some judicial interest would be expected. There is an inconsistency where some rules and laws can be kept and others just ignored. The language has to work in three distinct domains. The world outside the bakery is largely written out. It does not matter too much if Gina the call centre trainer is cartoonish. But “Dan the man at the bank” speaks a language that is made-up. He only appears in two scenes and one of these is thrown away with a speech whose maudlin and apocalyptic content is improbable anyhow. The second area is that of the workplace and the work. A scene of a board meeting is composed of a string of catchphrases. Hardly an item in the scene stands up to scrutiny and some elements are simply impossible. Every industry is a village of its own- (it looks as though the weakness of “Baker Boys” may be due to its conception and development within its own industry village.) The Valley Bara management is shown as being utterly unaware that a neighbouring bakery has gone bust. This is ludicrous. It must also be the first bakery where having to get product out of the door at seven in the morning comes as a novelty. Pete is a sharp character but he is seen trying to make a phone call to some unspecified “chief executive.” Having the liquidator on screen would have given some crackle of a dramatic encounter. Shelley says that the former management used “flour from China.” The line is intended to demonstrate cheap-skatery but it jars. Sure enough, a quick check with a local baker confirms that as a line it does not hold up. The new company directors, although the script does not use the word much- have a tendency to switch into a stilted management-speak. “You shouldn't have acted without the board's agreement.” “As a member of this co-operative...” “It’s not an ideal situation” is repeated a few lines later with “It's not a desirable situation. There's no denying it.” “There's one rule for the bosses...” “We're employees as well as owners.” “It’s a viable model.” “It’s a marketing opportunity.” It’s not just the dependence on these Latinate words- real words like “cash” and “sell” don’t feature, nor the fact that it all sounds out of character. Just as the script avoids the real harshness of small company life, it does not capture the sheer thrill when a venture flies. With much potential drama removed from the public sphere the private life of the characters has to bear the weight. The odd sharp line occurs such as “She’s fifteen, she hates everything” but generally there is a lot of rummaging in the second hand box. “I want a good man who’s going to love and look after me” turns up early. It is followed by “How long’s it going to be like this?” “I thought you wanted to do more with your life.” “I’ve taken you for granted.” “I’m sorry I haven’t valued you enough.” “I want to belong.” “Whatever’s happened can we just wipe the slate clean?” “You know I’d do anything for you.” “I wonder if you’re happy.” “I feel so alone sometimes.” You are everything I’ve got.” “I’m trying to give you what you say you want”. “You know I’d do anything for you.” Line after line screeches for the discipline of the script editor’s red pencil. “Everything we pay out each month we need money coming in”/ “I know.” “What are we talking about?” “It's not about what I want is it?” “We could all use a holiday.” “What are you saying?” “It's a whole new chapter for us.” This is my life we’re talking about.” “You told me you needed to move on.” The ultimate filler “What does that mean?” is wheeled out more than once; just as well as a stellar cast was brought on board. This kind of language is fundamentally anti-dramatic. Drama begins when dialogue, the language that is spoken, creates its counterpoint of what is not spoken. This kind of dialogue as semolina, thick but without much flavour, is all surface. Writers from Wales have done journeyman work on “Skins”, “Hollyoaks”, “Eastenders.” First chapter in a script-writing manual is never let your characters start talking about their feelings. It’s a killer; character is action. At one level the writing of drama is carpentry with every line a peg or joist that holds the whole together. Each line needs to be stressed and tested for the same kind toughness and durability. If a line does not hold the whole edifice shudders. “Art” said Henry James “needs to be hard as nails.” “Baker Boys” tackles a subject of great import. These are not the best days for traditional capitalism. The deficiencies of boardroom governance are manifest. Water assets elsewhere in the United Kingdom are shuffled around investment banks; Glas Cymru is uniquely incorporated as a company limited by guarantee . While all but one of the great names of the building society movement have been driven into bankruptcy or acquisition the Principality still stands. Maybe there is a better way of doing capitalism. “Baker Boys” takes on a great theme and treats it with scant interest. As I remember “Tower”, Alun Hoddinnott’s 1999 opera on the Tower Colliery buy-out, did it with passion. . There is no reason why drama from Wales should not stand alongside that of Paul Abbott and Jimmy McGovern. “Brilliantly written and acted” is the critical opinion of the National Newspaper of Wales. “Brilliant” declared Radio Wales on 17th January (although it was not obvious that any speakers had seen as much as a scene.) The BBC is a crucial and beloved institution, a bullwark against barbarism; its view at least publicly is “It’s tremendous…A fantastic job.” For decades, until 1991, India sheltered behind protectionist barriers. The result was weakness. There is one sure-fire proof of quality, that “Baker Boys” makes its way into the world. Maybe it is already being sold to Scotland, Ireland and abroad. A voice-over at the end of episode three speaks of a return to Trefynydd. For a revisit some drama, villainy, fire, ambition, and plain old craftsmanship, please. If the intention is that the project be a low-aiming piece of parochialism that cowers this side of the Severn then that is not enough. News and journalism may fit a narrow, small segmented audience but drama’s audience is universal. |
Reviewed by: Adam Somerset |
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