Months ago my colleague Karen Reece lent me the DVD of Our Friends in the North and it languished on my shelf for so long that I had to email her at one point to reassure her that I hadn't appropriated it. I knew I was going to love it but Dave had to be convinced (he has occasional laggard tendencies - not that I can talk: OFITN was first shown back in 1996!). A few days ago we got around to watching the first episode, and Dave pronounced himself "completely hooked" within the first 10 minutes. On Friday we watched the second episode before we went out (as a result we didn't leave the house until 10.30pm), and then came home early, an hour later to watch the third episode, maybe pissing off some of our social circle in the process.
Our Friends in the North is one of those TV dramas to which the term "landmark" is routinely applied. The story centres on four friends whom we first see in Newcastle in the prime of their youth as they make choices that will influence the rest of their lives. The first three episodes, which as I say we've now seen, take place in the 1960s, switching between Newcastle and London as we follow the lives of the main characters (acted by four now household names -Daniel Craig, Gina McKee, Christopher Eccleston and Mark Strong). The story will continue right up to 1995, giving it an impressive historical scope as well as a compelling narrative.
Dave and I are both well into our 40s now so "retro" is often stuff that we can remember from first time around. The first episode, then, set in 1964, made us feel really young because I hadn't been born and Dave was only 3, and as a result, the cultural references mean very little to us. This is a good thing, not least because the kind of cheesy quality that has become commonplace in depictions of the 1960s, and (especially) the 1970s, is entirely absent.
The four friends are still living in their family terraced houses in 1964; the brother of Mary (Gina McKee) is mentally and physically disabled, but whereas in the first episode he's cheerful and chatty in the family living room, by the second episode (1966), he's become so ill as a result of living in Mary's damp high-rise flat, that he's unable to speak or even raise a smile. For some reason, this has really lingered with me, and has made me reflect on the bumpy road to progress that the British working class endured in the 20th century. Indeed, at least part of the success of the drama can be attributed to a tightly integrated socio-economic backdrop to the story which is extremely well realised and apparently so accurate in its representation of real historical figures that there was a strong possibility of litigation.
We tend to cariacature the 1960s as a golden era of promise and prosperity, but in fact my Dad's family were living in housing that was more appropriate to the 19th century than the second half of the 20th (my Dad's words not mine). My parents bought a house in Radcliffe, Lancashire just before they married in 1963. They didn't move in until after the wedding (because you didn't then) so at the weekends, Dad used to go over and do DIY and decorate the place on his own. I remember him telling me of the joy with which he'd run a bath before going home, and lie in his own bath, finally able to control his own hot and cod water taps and stay in there as long as he liked. He and his family had never had a bath in their own home, and at the family's weekly visit to the public baths had always had to ask the attendant for more hot water. Years later, I dated a musician who was quite a bit older than me, and he told me what a great experience he'd had going to a public bath and having to ask for hot water. I remember thinking - you middle class twat. See "Common People" by Pulp for further details.
At the beginning of the 1970s, my Nana, who had recently become widowed, moved from 16 Johnson Street in Lower Broughton, Salford, to a newly constructed high rise called Greyfriars Court. I personally remember this as a very happy period. Nana was in a first floor flat with a balcony, and it seemed that every Sunday afternoon when we went over to visit, there was something new in the flat, often the kind of cheap ornament that kids love. It occurs to me now, watching OFITN, that some lessons might have been learnt from the Newcastle experience, as Nana, to my knowledge, never had any damp or structural problems in her flat.
So Nana's move always felt like progress to me, but I was too young to know how happy or otherwise my Nana (or indeed the rest of the family) felt about it, and that leads me in a roundabout way to another impressive quality of OFITN, namely that it's rarely clear-cut in its observations. Mary is extremely bright and is starting a university course in 1964, but by 1966 she's married with a child to Tosker (Mark Strong). Just when you're thinking how trapped and compromised she is in an empty marriage, there's a powerfully scene in which genuine love is revealed. Following 4 characters over a period of 3 decades gives ample scope to explore the nuances and ambiguities of the finely drawn characters and their relationships.
We can't wait to watch the rest of it, and if you've never seen it, try and borrow Karen's copy!
