A much-hyped film about the US First Lady only skims the surface
Add The Tony Blair Story and Melania to your watchlist An alignment of the stars this week meant I watched, back to back, two films that could fall into the category of “political documentary”. Both profile instantly recognisable, highly polarising figures and both offer glimpses into great rooms of power. But that’s where any similarity ends. First, we need to talk about Melania. Reviews have been harsh of the Amazon-funded portrait of the US First Lady during the 20 days prior to her husband’s second inauguration in 2025, but I thought I’d give it a fair crack. The Melbourne cinema where I watched it was almost packed (it was a 15-seater) with an all-female crowd presumably curious, like me, as to who or what lies under the hat. The opening credits give immediate warning: I’ve not seen one name mentioned so many times since Barbra Streisand’s magnum opus Yentl. Melania Trump is producer, star, all-round muse – making her responsible for the 15 minutes of footage in which she discusses, with fawning stylists, the shoulder pads on her inauguration suit, after which I’m ready to stick the much-discussed hatpin into my own forehead. View Green Video on the source website The rest of the film focuses either on Melania’s stiletto heels – stepping out of a limousine, onto a private jet, through the doors of her gold-plated Trump Tower home – or on the back of her head, so we get to see her golden tresses and the silencing effect she has on bystanders. As a study in iconography, it is fascinating, the only problem being icons don’t stand up to extended scrutiny. Just as a car’s value decreases the minute it drives off the forecourt, Melania’s effect diminishes the longer she stays in the room, and we’re here for 104 minutes. So yes, fascinating, but let’s not call it a documentary. “One-woman Robert Palmer video” would be more accurate. There has been a stream of “access-all-areas” docs lately – the Beckhams, Cristiano Ronaldo, Taylor Swift – and we’re all au fait with the deal: let the cameras in, speak only in praise and awe. But surely, the closer you are to the political epicentre – and there’s no one closer than Melania Trump – the more accountable you must be. And yet, from titles to credits, not one word of explanation, justification or circumspection is solicited or offered. The nearest we get is her husband’s verdict that “she’s very difficult, but there’s no one like her”. There is no hint of how she squares her pursuit of people’s rights, never mind her own immigrant history, with the actions of her spouse, or how she justifies being a feminist purely by virtue of putting all her chips on marital orange. Every sentence she utters tells us less. In contrast, Channel 4’s The Tony Blair Story doesn’t have the man himself as an executive producer, he didn’t have editorial control and he won’t have seen it before it airs. Instead, he’s just one of the many contributors – including wife, children, political friends and foes – shedding light on his story. For one hour devoted to his rise and success revolutionising the Labour Party and leading it to power in three general elections, there are two more devoted to Iraq and his ignominious departure from Downing Street. Critics, from Jeremy Corbyn to Clare Short, queue up to bury Caesar, and Blair answers every question, even those that begin, “Now, be honest with me…” It is sometimes uncomfortable, but necessary viewing, and deserves to be called a documentary. The Melania show is equally uncomfortable, but unnecessary – even if it does tell us exactly what’s under the hat.
Let's not call Melania Trump's film a documentary - Channel 4’s The Tony Blair Story is the real deal
A much-hyped film about the US First Lady only skims the surface.
This article first appeared in Radio Times magazine. An alignment of the stars this week meant I watched, back to back, two films that could fall into the category of "political documentary". Both profile instantly recognisable, highly polarising figures and both offer glimpses into great rooms of power. But that's where any similarity ends. First, we need to talk about Melania. Reviews have been harsh of the Amazon-funded portrait of the US First Lady during the 20 days prior to her husband's second inauguration in 2025, but I thought I'd give it a fair crack. The Melbourne cinema where I watched it was almost packed (it was a 15-seater) with an all-female crowd presumably curious, like me, as to who or what lies under the hat. The opening credits give immediate warning: I’ve not seen one name mentioned so many times since Barbra Streisand’s magnum opus Yentl. Melania Trump is producer, star, all-round muse – making her responsible for the 15 minutes of footage in which she discusses, with fawning stylists, the shoulder pads on her inauguration suit, after which I’m ready to stick the much-discussed hatpin into my own forehead. The rest of the film focuses either on Melania’s stiletto heels – stepping out of a limousine, onto a private jet, through the doors of her gold-plated Trump Tower home – or on the back of her head, so we get to see her golden tresses and the silencing effect she has on bystanders. As a study in iconography, it is fascinating, the only problem being icons don’t stand up to extended scrutiny. Just as a car’s value decreases the minute it drives off the forecourt, Melania’s effect diminishes the longer she stays in the room, and we're here for 104 minutes. So yes, fascinating, but let’s not call it a documentary. "One-woman Robert Palmer video" would be more accurate. View Green Video on the source website There has been a stream of "access-all-areas" docs lately – the Beckhams, Cristiano Ronaldo, Taylor Swift – and we’re all au fait with the deal: let the cameras in, speak only in praise and awe. But surely, the closer you are to the political epicentre – and there’s no one closer than Melania Trump – the more accountable you must be. And yet, from titles to credits, not one word of explanation, justification or circumspection is solicited or offered. The nearest we get is her husband’s verdict that "she’s very difficult, but there’s no one like her". There is no hint of how she squares her pursuit of people's rights, never mind her own immigrant history, with the actions of her spouse, or how she justifies being a feminist purely by virtue of putting all her chips on marital orange. Every sentence she utters tells us less. In contrast, Channel 4’s The Tony Blair Story doesn’t have the man himself as an executive producer, he didn’t have editorial control and he won’t have seen it before it airs. Instead, he’s just one of the many contributors – including wife, children, political friends and foes – shedding light on his story. For one hour devoted to his rise and success revolutionising the Labour Party and leading it to power in three general elections, there are two more devoted to Iraq and his ignominious departure from Downing Street. Critics, from Jeremy Corbyn to Clare Short, queue up to bury Caesar, and Blair answers every question, even those that begin, “Now, be honest with me…” It is sometimes uncomfortable, but necessary viewing, and deserves to be called a documentary. The Melania show is equally uncomfortable, but unnecessary – even if it does tell us exactly what’s under the hat. The latest issue of Radio Times is out now – subscribe here. Check out more of our Documentaries coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
A new documentary explores our monarch’s “Harmony” philosophy
Add Finding Harmony: a King's Vision to your watchlist One of the few consolations of lockdown was that many of us suddenly rediscovered nature and the great outdoors. Like anything restricted from human grasp, it became a tantalising, precious commodity, seized upon by Instagrammers like a shiny new thing, along with salutes to the sun and mashed avocado on sourdough. However, there’s one public figure who can’t be accused of being a Johnny-come-lately to this particular cause – the King. Over half a century ago, as an earnest young prince, Charles was espousing the value of embracing our environment, of eschewing architectural carbuncles and restoring endangered species to protect biodiversity. His 1970 speech about chemically polluted rivers pre-dated Feargal Sharkey’s efforts by decades. Many of the nature-based alternative remedies he once advocated so “eccentrically” are now accepted complementary therapies. And what did he get for his pains? Headlines in the press about the “loon” prince chatting with his plants, and general head-scratching from everyone else. View Green Video on the source website Today, the now King Charles is beating the same drum to a far more receptive audience. This week finds him the focus of Finding Harmony: a King’s Vision, an Amazon documentary exploring his tireless work, from across the world to his own back garden. The King’s Foundation at Dumfries House in Ayrshire trains hundreds of people in sustainable skills and crafts, and has been credited with transforming one of Scotland’s most struggling regions. Further afield, the foundation has partnered with the government of Guyana in South America to make the country’s capital, Georgetown, “a sustainable garden city”. Meanwhile, since 2009, Waitrose Duchy Organic – which was founded in 1990 as Duchy Originals by the then Prince Charles – has contributed £50 million to the King Charles III Charitable Fund. Though visibly riled in the film by how much there is still to do, the monarch beams with beatific humility when he says, “It would be nice to see if we can get through to people.” By the time the credits roll over acres of rainforest and young people working on crops, you want to shout, “Make this man our leader!” Hold on… Such an image of Charles stands in sharp contrast to that offered by other documentaries. Channel 4’s Dispatches: the King, the Prince and Their Secret Millions (available on Channel 4 streaming) details how the monarch recently pledged to use profits from wind farms owned by the Crown Estate for public good, but made no mention of his Duchy of Lancaster wind farms – the palace’s only comment was to say the latter “operates as a commercial company”. The King, not legally obliged, has volunteered to pay tax on “what is left after public duty expenditure”, but these sums are not disclosed. All of which cuts to the dilemma at the heart of the monarchy. The King’s Foundation has to succeed commercially to ensure his mission continues, yet it means Charles runs into accusations of profiteering. Any other CEO would quickly pocket the spoils, but the monarch’s unique position renders him far more accountable. So the King has plenty of accountants in sharp suits doing the sums, so that he can continue to chat to his plants and champion a better world. For any organisation in 2026, the question is, how easy is it to do things purely for good? The answer: impossible. Charles says in his Amazon doc, “I can only do what I can do, which is not very much.” And that’s the King speaking.
'Imagination is more important than knowledge'
When Shaun Evans takes on a new character, all the hard work goes on in his head
Add Betrayal to your watchlist The last time I interviewed Shaun Evans, we both had a little cry. Me, because I’d been poorly and watching every episode of his peerless Endeavour had sustained me through three bedbound months. Him… well, because he’s a very nice man, and also because he recognised the import of saying goodbye to young Morse after nine series. We signed off saying, “We will speak again.” And now we do, three years later, when the first thing Evans does is enquire after my health. Like I said, he’s a nice man. But we’re here to talk about Betrayal, an espionage thriller/marital drama he has both produced and stars in. Evans’s character John Hughes, an MI5 agent battling on many fronts – fighting “voluntary” redundancy requests, struggling to save his marriage, all the while investigating a national security threat – has the same solitude and righteousness of his Endeavour, but in a very different, contemporary setting. John is often at home with his children and troubled wife Clare, where we see the pressures on an ordinary man of an extraordinary job. “I was interested in playing a man having a midlife crisis,” says Evans. “Plus, there’s always an appetite for the spy genre, so I was curious to see if we could mix together those two. At work, he follows his instincts and it ends in catastrophe. His marriage is on the rocks. The four episodes trace his attempts to solve these seemingly intractable problems.” The two key themes in the show are the world of espionage, and the act of betrayal. For the first, producers recruited former BBC security correspondent- turned-podcaster Gordon Corera as production adviser. For the second? “I always think imagination is more important than knowledge,” says Evans. “It’s interesting to play these characters who are different from you, and find the reason for why they behave as they do. That’s the job, making the imaginative leap.” It’s a full and considered answer that gives nothing away. He’d make a good spy. In Betrayal, as in his previous drama Until I Kill You, the actor eschewed the neutral tones of Endeavour for his native Liverpudlian accent. For the latter, his character, real-life murderer John Sweeney, was also from Liverpool, so that was an obvious choice. For Betrayal, Evans wanted to lean into the class element. “We expect MI5 officers to be from Oxbridge, but it’s no longer the case,” he says. More generally, he’s been using accents as a tool since he graduated from the Guildhall School of Drama over 20 years ago. “When I first started, I wanted to play parts far away from me, to transform into someone else and leave any of my baggage behind.” He pauses. “In a weird way, when you play someone with your own accent, you have to work harder to make the leap.” I imagine accent-switching with such ease must also make it easier to sit in a pub unrecognised? “Yes, exactly. It’s like wearing a big coat.” When we last spoke, Evans – credited with not just matching the quality of the much-loved Morse but perhaps surpassing it – was planning to give himself a proper, extended break, what he called “decompression”, after playing the same character for nine intense years. His plans included taking himself off to Italy to study the language and indulging his great passion for photography. When I ask how much of this came to pass, he swiftly takes a small camera – not a phone! – out of his pocket by way of proof, and adds, “I did go to Italy and attend a language course. I’m not fluent, but I’m pretty good. I return there a lot. I took a lot of photographs, had a small exhibition when I got back, then I got offered another job and threw myself into that.” Now Evans is once again a jobbing actor, albeit one whose name can greenlight primetime projects, life must feel quite different from the days when he was working flat out as title star, producer and sometime director on a massive TV franchise. “There are pros and cons,” he says. “Every element of Endeavour was joyful, and all those people are still in my life.” Even his co-star Roger Allam, famously unsentimental about his projects in interviews? “Ah, he presents like that, but underneath he’s a big softie.” Just like Inspector Thursday, then. “Gently, gradually, your life moves in a new direction,” Evans continues. “Endeavour was a huge education for me, and I felt I graduated. Different jobs mean bringing all my skills to bear. I like the variety.” Even though his Oxford detective is often to be found on ITV3 in the afternoon, Evans rarely watches this or any other screen appearance. “I hope everyone else enjoys it but, for me, I’d rather focus on the day, and then step back and leave it. I love the freedom of being a gun for hire, just going in and doing a good job. What gets my juices flowing? The work itself.” TROUBLE & STRIFE Romola Garai is the other half of the rocky marriage What drew you to Betrayal? I was really intrigued. You have a marital drama interspersed with a high-stakes geopolitical espionage storyline, and they’re given almost the same weight in terms of the story, which felt unusual and fresh to me. Your character Clare is married to a man who can’t tell her what he does all day. How realistic is that? It’s bonkers but accurate. I always thought there’d be an inner ring of confidence where people can share, but the Official Secrets Act covers a lot. It can’t be conducive to a good marriage and theirs is definitely fragmented. Initially, he’s the holder of all this information, but the balance of power soon starts to shift. How do you pick your projects? When I began, it was all career, ambition and opportunity but, at some point, you realise it’s not just about you. If I’m to be away from my children, it has to be worth it. I need to feel like I’m doing interesting work. Storytelling was always a big thing for me. You’ve spoken out previously about the treatment of women in your industry, what changes have you seen? It’s very different. When I was in my teens and 20s, it wouldn’t be uncommon for there to be no women on set at all, apart from the actors. And people didn’t seem to find it odd. I think there has been a systemic top-down attempt to change that. It would be very unusual now to have an all-male creative team. There’s also the growing understanding that women want to see themselves depicted in different ways on screen, with all the various shades of what it means to be a woman. Do people still ask you about the much-missed BBC drama The Hour? It’s weird because that show didn’t do any numbers and it was cancelled after two series, but more than anything else I’ve ever been in, people still come up to me and say, “I loved it, I don’t understand why it ended.” It’s really nice to have been in something that people really love.
Endeavour legend Shaun Evans talks saying goodbye to Morse and why he kept his Liverpudlian accent for ITV's Betrayal
Shaun Evans moves on from Endeavour with a spy thriller – and a fresh sense of freedom.
This article first appeared in Radio Times magazine. The last time I interviewed Shaun Evans, we both had a little cry. Me, because I'd been poorly and watching every episode of his peerless Endeavour had sustained me through three bedbound months. Him… well, because he's a very nice man, and also because he recognised the import of saying goodbye to young Morse after nine series. We signed off saying, "We will speak again." And now we do, three years later, when the first thing Evans does is enquire after my health. Like I said, he's a nice man. But we're here to talk about Betrayal, an espionage thriller/marital drama he has both produced and stars in. Evans's character John Hughes, an MI5 agent battling on many fronts – fighting "voluntary" redundancy requests, struggling to save his marriage, all the while investigating a national security threat – has the same solitude and righteousness of his Endeavour, but in a very different, contemporary setting. John is often at home with his children and troubled wife Clare, where we see the pressures on an ordinary man of an extraordinary job. "I was interested in playing a man having a midlife crisis," says Evans. "Plus, there's always an appetite for the spy genre, so I was curious to see if we could mix together those two. At work, he follows his instincts and it ends in catastrophe. His marriage is on the rocks. The four episodes trace his attempts to solve these seemingly intractable problems." The two key themes in the show are the world of espionage, and the act of betrayal. For the first, producers recruited former BBC security correspondent- turned-podcaster Gordon Corera as production adviser. For the second? "I always think imagination is more important than knowledge," says Evans. "It's interesting to play these characters who are different from you, and find the reason for why they behave as they do. That's the job, making the imaginative leap." It's a full and considered answer that gives nothing away. He'd make a good spy. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/3/2026/01/directed.-He-never-told-me-a-take-was-bad-although-sometimes-he-probably-should-have.-There-were-times-where-I-was-going-way-over-the-top-and-hed-come-up-to-me-and-laugh-saying-okay-weve-got-f2e19fd.jpg" width="3000" height="2000" alt="A man wears a black baseball cap and discreetly looks around a corner." title="ITV-betrayal" /> In Betrayal, as in his previous drama Until I Kill You, the actor eschewed the neutral tones of Endeavour for his native Liverpudlian accent. For the latter, his character, real-life murderer John Sweeney, was also from Liverpool, so that was an obvious choice. For Betrayal, Evans wanted to lean into the class element. "We expect MI5 officers to be from Oxbridge, but it's no longer the case," he says. More generally, he's been using accents as a tool since he graduated from the Guildhall School of Drama over 20 years ago. "When I first started, I wanted to play parts far away from me, to transform into someone else and leave any of my baggage behind." He pauses. "In a weird way, when you play someone with your own accent, you have to work harder to make the leap." I imagine accent-switching with such ease must also make it easier to sit in a pub unrecognised? "Yes, exactly. It's like wearing a big coat." When we last spoke, Evans – credited with not just matching the quality of the much-loved Morse but perhaps surpassing it – was planning to give himself a proper, extended break, what he called "decompression", after playing the same character for nine intense years. His plans included taking himself off to Italy to study the language and indulging his great passion for photography. When I ask how much of this came to pass, he swiftly takes a small camera – not a phone! – out of his pocket by way of proof, and adds, "I did go to Italy and attend a language course. I'm not fluent, but I'm pretty good. I return there a lot. I took a lot of photographs, had a small exhibition when I got back, then I got offered another job and threw myself into that." Now Evans is once again a jobbing actor, albeit one whose name can greenlight primetime projects, life must feel quite different from the days when he was working flat out as title star, producer and sometime director on a massive TV franchise. "There are pros and cons," he says. "Every element of Endeavour was joyful, and all those people are still in my life." Even his co-star Roger Allam, famously unsentimental about his projects in interviews? "Ah, he presents like that, but underneath he's a big softie." Just like Inspector Thursday, then. "Gently, gradually, your life moves in a new direction," Evans continues. "Endeavour was a huge education for me, and I felt I graduated. Different jobs mean bringing all my skills to bear. I like the variety." Even though his Oxford detective is often to be found on ITV3 in the afternoon, Evans rarely watches this or any other screen appearance. "I hope everyone else enjoys it but, for me, I'd rather focus on the day, and then step back and leave it. I love the freedom of being a gun for hire, just going in and doing a good job. What gets my juices flowing? The work itself." The latest issue of Radio Times is out now – subscribe here. Betrayal will premiere at 9pm on Sunday 8th February on ITV1 and ITVX in 2026. Add Betrayal to your watchlist on the <a id="OWA8b702c45-bee9-94e4-f018-57518e78041b" title="https://www.radiotimes.com/download-the-app/?af_xp=custom&pid=website&c=editorial_content&is_retargeting=true&af_reengagement_window=30d" href="https://www.radiotimes.com/download-the-app/?af_xp=custom&pid=website&c=editorial_content&is_retargeting=true&af_reengagement_window=30d" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-outlook-id="449c28d9-909e-4aab-b6b8-153454f55d5e" data-auth="NotApplicable" data-linkindex="0">Radio Times: What to Watch app – download now for daily TV recommendations, features and more. Check out more of our Drama coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
Ben Affleck and Matt Damon's The Rip proves the upsides and downsides of using real-life Hollywood friends
When real-life bromance meets movie rivalry, the stars’ off-screen friendships become the real story we’re watching.
It may come as a shock to learn that, despite playing the "it’s for work" card, I occasionally lose control of the TV remote, which is how I ended up sitting through The Rip, a heist-based, gun-heavy, F-bomb-flooded thriller that I will describe, without apology, as "probably a film for boys". On the plus side, it starred – nay, was almost rescued by – Matt Damon and Ben Affleck, and when I wasn't watching another shootout through my eyelids, it got me thinking about them and how we feel when film-star friends appear together on-screen. It’s almost 30 years since this golden pair arrived in our lives. The story of how two longtime friends co-wrote Good Will Hunting, defying all their Hollywood doubters and going on to score box-office millions and an Oscar each for best screenplay, has become as rich in mythology and inspiration as the film itself. The film’s most moving moment comes when Affleck's blue-collar loyal friend Chuckie tells Damon’s maths genius Will he's worth more than the life he’s settling for: "You’re my best friend. I call for you every day. The best part is when I knock on your door and I think maybe you won’t be there." Cut to 2026, and The Rip proves that day has not yet come – the Affleck-Damon alliance still tight in life as on screen. View Green Video on the source website A similar challenge is posed by the George Clooney-Brad Pitt pairing in Wolfs. As in The Rip, the film sets two solitary operators in competition and seemingly reluctant comradeship. Except, of course, they’re played by two of the world’s most recognisable men, famous for being handsome, successful and, most pertinently, great friends ever since they dazzled together in Ocean’s Eleven. Studios have long used the same trick to seduce audiences, repeatedly pairing equal and sort-of opposites like Paul Newman and Robert Redford, or channelling the unstoppable-force-meets-unmovable-object charisma of Alain Delon and Jean-Paul Belmondo. We happily sit through hours of fictional rivalry and mistrust, even when we’ve seen the stars sharing a red-carpet joke or hanging out in a boat on Lake Como. Does it matter? Well, it means we can’t fully immerse ourselves in the narrative. If it’s hard enough to believe in any screen character when the face belongs to George "grinning, gravelly" Clooney, it’s almost impossible when he’s squaring up to Brad Pitt. Their widely documented, endlessly photographed real-life friendship means we can never take on-screen conflict between them entirely seriously. Nor are we meant to. We’re not really investing in the stories of The Rip’s competing cops or Wolfs’ mutually suspicious fixers. What we’re immersing ourselves in are these real-life bromantic backstories: Affleck and Damon, the former leaning on the latter through years of rehab; Pitt and Clooney, bonded by decades of practical jokes on film sets. There’s nothing remotely reluctant about any of these partnerships. Anyone who’s worked on a film set will tell you about the long days of downtime between takes – and how much more bearable those hours are when spent playing cards and swapping stories with your besties. The best moment in The Rip's five days running time (OK, just under two hours) is a quiet action-free scene shared by the two stars. "Great work today, man," says Damon. "You, too," says Affleck. Thirty years on, one still calls and the other’s still there. Read more: The Rip ending explained: who was the traitor in the Netflix thriller? Is Netflix crime thriller The Rip based on a true story? The Rip is streaming now on Netflix. Check out more of our Film coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
When pals like Matt Damon and Ben Affleck star together, it’s not just the bullets we’re watching
Add The Rip to your watchlist It may come as a shock to learn that, despite playing the “it’s for work” card, I occasionally lose control of the TV remote, which is how I ended up sitting through The Rip, a heist-based, gun-heavy, F-bomb-flooded thriller that I will describe, without apology, as “probably a film for boys”. On the plus side, it starred – nay, was almost rescued by – Matt Damon and Ben Affleck, and when I wasn’t watching another shootout through my eyelids, it got me thinking about them and how we feel when film-star friends appear together on screen. View Green Video on the source website It’s almost 30 years since this golden pair arrived in our lives. The story of how two longtime friends co-wrote Good Will Hunting, defying all their Hollywood doubters and going on to score box-office millions and an Oscar each for best screenplay, has become as rich in mythology and inspiration as the film itself. The film’s most moving moment comes when Affleck’s blue-collar loyal friend Chuckie tells Damon’s maths genius Will he’s worth more than the life he’s settling for: “You’re my best friend. I call for you every day. The best part is when I knock on your door and I think maybe you won’t be there.” Cut to 2026, and The Rip proves that day has not yet come – the Affleck-Damon alliance still tight in life as on screen. A similar challenge is posed by the George Clooney-Brad Pitt pairing in Wolfs. As in The Rip, the film sets two solitary operators in competition and seemingly reluctant comradeship. Except, of course, they’re played by two of the world’s most recognisable men, famous for being handsome, successful and, most pertinently, great friends ever since they dazzled together in Ocean’s Eleven. Studios have long used the same trick to seduce audiences, repeatedly pairing equal and sort-of opposites like Paul Newman and Robert Redford, or channelling the unstoppable-force-meets-unmovable-object charisma of Alain Delon and Jean-Paul Belmondo. We happily sit through hours of fictional rivalry and mistrust, even when we’ve seen the stars sharing a red-carpet joke or hanging out in a boat on Lake Como. Does it matter? Well, it means we can’t fully immerse ourselves in the narrative. If it’s hard enough to believe in any screen character when the face belongs to George “grinning, gravelly” Clooney, it’s almost impossible when he’s squaring up to Brad Pitt. Their widely documented, endlessly photographed real-life friendship means we can never take on-screen conflict between them entirely seriously. Nor are we meant to. We’re not really investing in the stories of The Rip’s competing cops or Wolfs’ mutually suspicious fixers. What we’re immersing ourselves in are these real-life bromantic backstories: Affleck and Damon, the former leaning on the latter through years of rehab; Pitt and Clooney, bonded by decades of practical jokes on film sets. There’s nothing remotely reluctant about any of these partnerships. Anyone who’s worked on a film set will tell you about the long days of downtime between takes – and how much more bearable those hours are when spent playing cards and swapping stories with your besties. The best moment in The Rip’s five days running time (OK, just under two hours) is a quiet action-free scene shared by the two stars. “Great work today, man,” says Damon. “You, too,” says Affleck. Thirty years on, one still calls and the other’s still there.
The Traitors season 4 final sees two worthy winners – and proves once again why it's unmissable TV
The following contains spoilers for the finale of season four of The Traitors. Add it to your watchlist The ravens have departed the castle, it’s all over and we have a winner. After 12 episodes, 22 contestants and 75 increasingly tense last minutes, Traitors Rachel and Stephen emerged as victors. The final started dramatically enough, with Traitor Rachel saved by chance from banishment. Despite Jack’s tears at James’s exit, this was a blessing for producers, as it paved the way for some serious traitor-on-traitor betrayal, after Stephen and Rachel both decided to ditch all those turret pledges of mutual loyalty. This made for an immensely satisfying final Round Table, as Stephen once again sat without an arrow going near him, and Rachel once again brushed off all comers like a lion swatting off impalas and played Faraaz like a violin. Result: Jade gone. And then there were four, and it was time for Endgame. 15 minutes later and it was all over as, with Faraaz gone, Rachel and Stephen somehow got over their differences and reunited to banish Jack and share the £97,750 pot. – a mere £47,875 each. They’re both worthy winners: Stephen with his ability to make allies and withstand the Library Five and Caged Three accusations, and Rachel with her formidable skill in thinking on her feet and fending off the attacks of fellow Traitor Fiona and forensic Faithful Harriet. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/3/2026/01/traitors-final-1-2151158.jpg" width="4600" height="3067" alt="Claudia Winkleman in a tailored black suit stands confidently between two green leather armchairs in a wood-panelled room, facing a table piled high with gold bars." title="Claudia Winkleman in a tailored black suit stands confidently between two green leather armchairs in a wood-panelled room, facing a table piled high with gold bars." /> But never mind this triumphant pair, the real winners are the makers of this fourth series of The Traitors, who proved that they could come back down to earth from the high flights of last year’s celebrity version and still leave us holding our breath these past four weeks. Trying to explain the show to a rare non-viewer makes it sound desperately inane: a bunch of strangers, in a castle, a handful selected as secret murderers, the rest left to guess who they are. Despite the masterful edits, the Enya wails into the night, Claudia Winkleman’s Alice Cooper-in-a-kilt schtick, it remains an ancient parlour game brought to primetime TV. And yet… Love Island used to get poo-poohed by critics for its cigarette-paper thin premise: two people speak, then two other people speak about what they’ve just spoken about. Pop singer Lee Ryan was sent death threats when he took part in Celebrity Big Brother and divided his affections between two unsuspecting female housemates. Yet somehow The Traitors, built entirely on the very same human instincts – to observe, ingratiate, gossip and betray – has been received by a nightly audience of 8 million-plus as much higher-market must-watch TV. Go figure. The challenge now for those same producers who’ve pulled this off will be how to match this success next time round. It’s probably no bad thing there’s a big gap until the next series, time for us to enjoy contestants’ sweet solidarity on shows like Bake Off and Sewing Bee and bask in how we like to see ourselves, before The Traitors returns to reveal once again who we really are.
A ruthless finale, two triumphant Traitors and another reminder that this gloriously simple parlour game remains required viewing.
The ravens have departed the castle, it’s all over and we have a winner. After 12 episodes, 22 contestants and 75 increasingly tense last minutes, Traitors Rachel and Stephen emerged as victors. The final started dramatically enough, with Traitor Rachel saved by chance from banishment. Despite Jack’s tears at James’s exit, this was a blessing for producers, as it paved the way for some serious traitor-on-traitor betrayal, after Stephen and Rachel both decided to ditch all those turret pledges of mutual loyalty. This made for an immensely satisfying final Round Table, as Stephen once again sat without an arrow going near him, and Rachel once again brushed off all comers like a lion swatting off impalas and played Faraaz like a violin. Result: Jade gone. And then there were four, and it was time for Endgame. 15 minutes later and it was all over as, with Faraaz gone, Rachel and Stephen somehow got over their differences and reunited to banish Jack and share the £97,750 pot. – a mere £47,875 each. They’re both worthy winners: Stephen with his ability to make allies and withstand the Library Five and Caged Three accusations, and Rachel with her formidable skill in thinking on her feet and fending off the attacks of fellow Traitor Fiona and forensic Faithful Harriet. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/3/2026/01/traitors-final-1-2151158.jpg" width="4600" height="3067" alt="Claudia Winkleman in a tailored black suit stands confidently between two green leather armchairs in a wood-panelled room, facing a table piled high with gold bars." title="Claudia Winkleman in a tailored black suit stands confidently between two green leather armchairs in a wood-panelled room, facing a table piled high with gold bars." /> But never mind this triumphant pair, the real winners are the makers of this fourth series of The Traitors, who proved that they could come back down to earth from the high flights of last year’s celebrity version and still leave us holding our breath these past four weeks. Trying to explain the show to a rare non-viewer makes it sound desperately inane: a bunch of strangers, in a castle, a handful selected as secret murderers, the rest left to guess who they are. Despite the masterful edits, the Enya wails into the night, Claudia Winkleman’s Alice Cooper-in-a-kilt schtick, it remains an ancient parlour game brought to primetime TV. And yet… Love Island used to get poo-poohed by critics for its cigarette-paper thin premise: two people speak, then two other people speak about what they’ve just spoken about. Pop singer Lee Ryan was sent death threats when he took part in Celebrity Big Brother and divided his affections between two unsuspecting female housemates. Yet somehow The Traitors, built entirely on the very same human instincts – to observe, ingratiate, gossip and betray – has been received by a nightly audience of 8 million-plus as much higher-market must-watch TV. Go figure. The challenge now for those same producers who’ve pulled this off will be how to match this success next time round. It’s probably no bad thing there’s a big gap until the next series, time for us to enjoy contestants’ sweet solidarity on shows like Bake Off and Sewing Bee and bask in how we like to see ourselves, before The Traitors returns to reveal once again who we really are. View Green Video on the source website Read more: The Traitors season 4 fashion: Where can you buy all the iconic outfits? Add The Traitors to your watchlist on the Radio Times: What to Watch app – download now for daily TV recommendations, features and more. Check out more of our Entertainment coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
There’s a real joy and comfort in watching passionate people do what they love
Add Guy Martin: Proper Jobs and Mission to Space with Francis Bourgeois to your watchlist My friend and I used to be fans of a big documentary festival until about a decade ago. After yet more films about a boy wearing mascara, or a girl holding a Kalashnikov, we walked out after a screening and she said, “It’s all about being. When did people stop doing stuff?” To be fair, documentaries remain a crucial platform for investigative journalism, but when it comes to our TV screens, my friend was right. We aren’t short of what TV commissioners call “factual entertainment”, but it feels like a million variations on a single premise: two celebrities in a car swapping their “stories”, between stops where they buy a house and a surprisingly valuable bit of art. Or, if it’s Channel 4, an intentionally provocative session with some kind of sex practitioner. If an expert is called upon, it’s to answer the questions of yet another celebrity. Where are the people doing stuff? It wasn’t always this way. I grew up watching people like Keith Floyd, Ann Ladbury and Fred Dibnah and their infectious enthusiasms for, respectively, cooking without a recipe (but with a glass of red), cutting sewing patterns and demolishing chimneys. They were all doing it anyway; fame came through their passions, not the other way round. The word “geek” – which just means a deep, tireless interest in a subject, often niche – has been given a bad rap, associated with a bad haircut and passion for planes over personal grooming. Well, give me an unsmoothed expert enthused to share over a slick celebrity paid to learn any day of the week. The good news is that there are green shoots of fresh geek-dom on our screens. With a doffed cap to the storytelling talents of scientist Dr Hannah Fry, the numero uno of nerds is Guy Martin. First spotted by TV producers on his bike in a 2009 TT race, the Grimsby-born presenter brings his love for all things mechanical to TV, from building a boat to breaking the world record for the fastest toboggan. Refreshingly averse to celebrity over substance (he said no to hosting Top Gear), Martin must navigate authenticity with keeping producers happy. His latest series explores “proper jobs” – which I’m guessing means those requiring pre-dawn starts and dirty hands (strangely, I’ve not yet received the call), and it’s something he clearly admires. Nearly two decades after stardom beckoned, he still turns down TV work in favour of mending lorries and driving tractors. There are plenty out there. If you don’t recognise the name Wintergatan, you’re not one of the 276 million who have tuned into YouTube to watch this Swedish band’s frontman Martin Molin play an instrument he built using 2,000 marbles. Subsequently, Molin abandoned the project, calling it unreliable for the planned world tour. Like Martin, this techie is not for turning. On paper, Francis Bourgeois sounds dreadful: “TikTok content producer, brand ambassador, model.” But at heart, he’s a trainspotter, whose enthusiasm for all things locomotive has garnered millions of followers on social media. For a Channel 4 doc, he flirts with the idea of going to space and has a reality check when he prepares to meet a real astronaut: “I have to carry my engineering expertise to this meeting. The power of social media, that can only take one so far.” Well, indeed, but in an age where we no longer learn how to mend a Land Rover, sew a dress or demolish a chimney, it is the modern mastery of such self-promotion that is key to promoting these skills and passions past, and where we’re reminded that there is no happier companionship than a shared niche. When Guy Martin’s host family of dairy farmers throw him a party, the bubbly is popped, the burgers are turned, but where’s Guy? In a corner, showing the farmer’s son what ChatGPT has to say about hydraulic engine fluids. Doing stuff. Enthralled, enthralling.
When did TV documentaries become all about celebrities and 'being' and stop being about people actually doing something?
The good news is that there are green shoots of fresh geek-dom on our screens.
My friend and I used to be fans of a big documentary festival until about a decade ago. After yet more films about a boy wearing mascara, or a girl holding a Kalashnikov, we walked out after a screening and she said, "It’s all about being. When did people stop doing stuff?" To be fair, documentaries remain a crucial platform for investigative journalism, but when it comes to our TV screens, my friend was right. We aren’t short of what TV commissioners call "factual entertainment", but it feels like a million variations on a single premise: two celebrities in a car swapping their "stories", between stops where they buy a house and a surprisingly valuable bit of art. Or, if it's Channel 4, an intentionally provocative session with some kind of sex practitioner. If an expert is called upon, it’s to answer the questions of yet another celebrity. Where are the people doing stuff? It wasn’t always this way. I grew up watching people like Keith Floyd, Ann Ladbury and Fred Dibnah and their infectious enthusiasms for, respectively, cooking without a recipe (but with a glass of red), cutting sewing patterns and demolishing chimneys. They were all doing it anyway; fame came through their passions, not the other way round. The word "geek" – which just means a deep, tireless interest in a subject, often niche – has been given a bad rap, associated with a bad haircut and passion for planes over personal grooming. Well, give me an unsmoothed expert enthused to share over a slick celebrity paid to learn any day of the week. The good news is that there are green shoots of fresh geek-dom on our screens. With a doffed cap to the storytelling talents of scientist Dr Hannah Fry, the numero uno of nerds is Guy Martin. First spotted by TV producers on his bike in a 2009 TT race, the Grimsby-born presenter brings his love for all things mechanical to TV, from building a boat to breaking the world record for the fastest toboggan. Refreshingly averse to celebrity over substance (he said no to hosting Top Gear), Martin must navigate authenticity with keeping producers happy. His latest series explores "proper jobs"– which I’m guessing means those requiring pre-dawn starts and dirty hands (strangely, I’ve not yet received the call), and it’s something he clearly admires. Nearly two decades after stardom beckoned, he still turns down TV work in favour of mending lorries and driving tractors. There are plenty out there. If you don’t recognise the name Wintergatan, you’re not one of the 276 million who have tuned into YouTube to watch this Swedish band’s frontman Martin Molin play an instrument he built using 2,000 marbles. Subsequently, Molin abandoned the project, calling it unreliable for the planned world tour. Like Martin, this techie is not for turning. On paper, Francis Bourgeois sounds dreadful: "TikTok content producer, brand ambassador, model." But at heart, he's a trainspotter, whose enthusiasm for all things locomotive has garnered millions of followers on social media. View oEmbed on the source website For a Channel 4 doc, he flirts with the idea of going to space and has a reality check when he prepares to meet a real astronaut: "I have to carry my engineering expertise to this meeting. The power of social media, that can only take one so far." Well, indeed, but in an age where we no longer learn how to mend a Land Rover, sew a dress or demolish a chimney, it is the modern mastery of such self-promotion that is key to promoting these skills and passions past, and where we’re reminded that there is no happier companionship than a shared niche. When Guy Martin's host family of dairy farmers throw him a party, the bubbly is popped, the burgers are turned, but where’s Guy? In a corner, showing the farmer’s son what ChatGPT has to say about hydraulic engine fluids. Doing stuff. Enthralled, enthralling. Mission to Space with Francis Bourgeois begins on Sunday 25 January at 6:50pm on Channel 4. Check out more of our Documentaries coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
As the players pass the halfway point, tensions continue to rise in The Traitors Castle. But who could survive until the bitter end?
The following contains spoilers for the first eight episodes of season four of The Traitors. Add it to your watchlist It’s dog eat dog in the Castle now, with fewer and fewer players pretending that it’s a team sport. The most blatant of these was evident in this episode’s mission – something to do with a cabin, some spooky clues and the chance for gold or one single Shield – with Sam saying from the off he was seeking the latter. “That was suspicious,” said everyone as he raced out of the cabin. “It felt like treacherous behaviour,” mused Ellie later. Was it, though? Wouldn’t you be just as likely to do that if you were a Faithful? If only there was someone in there who’d undertaken FBI training to spot a liar… It didn’t do him any good, mind you, as he was swiftly banished. Moral of the story: pretend it’s a team sport until the very final credits. Round tables in recent days have seen the confrontational aspect turned up to the max. The fisticuffs between Fiona and Rachel – Traitor on Traitor, lest we forget – was swiftly followed by the fall of Harriet, but with her ruthless attempt to take several people down with her. How is Rachel still standing after all that, let alone undiscovered? With only four episodes to go, who’s your money on emerging victorious? Who’s flourishing: Despite Matthew’s deal with the devils, Jessie remains un-murdered, she’s never even had a mention at the Round Table, and has succeeded in befriending everyone. She’s even onto Stephen. What a good Traitor she’d make. If she makes it through the night. And why does nobody ever, ever mention Jack? Who’s floundering: Rachel must have used up several of her Traitor’s lives by now, but she’s lived to see another visit to the Turret. Instead, it’s Stephen who’s starting to feel others’ eyes on him, and he can’t murder all of them.
Strictly without Tess and Claudia may need a few new moves, but it’s still the jewel in the BBC’s crown
Add Strictly Come Dancing to your watchlist In a festive edition of Celebrity Mastermind, one of the contestants was Strictly dancer Nikita Kuzmin (specialist subject: Cristiano Ronaldo). He wasn’t the worst of the four interrogees, particularly as English is not his primary language, meaning the Ukrainian native was, as Ginger Rogers might say, answering “backwards and in heels”. It was another mark of how far Strictly has come, with the show’s dance professionals now as well known as their celeb partners – and essential members of the BBC’s talent pipeline. Some, like Oti Mabuse and Janette Manrara, are trusted with fronting other shows, while Anton du Beke didn’t even need to leave the Strictly studio, instead shuffling seamlessly into his judge’s chair. From BBC to ballroom, everyone’s a winner. Backstage allegations, complaints and investigations have seen the BBC’s biggest entertainment totem totter on its perch in the last couple of years but, thanks to sure-footed protocols behind the scenes and inspiring figures like Chris McCausland on the dancefloor, the good ship Strictly has sailed safely on. However, a much bigger change is afoot. For ten years, it has been ably steered by two solid captains and the void left by Tess and Claudia’s emotional farewell has prompted many to start muttering about the beginning of Strictly’s end. The RT postbag reveals how much the hosting duo will be missed, as well as offering suggestions for giving the show a much needed shot in the arm. One publicist who helped launch the show suggested recently a fallow year would allow a proper reset, for “new energy to return”. Does the BBC’s biggest show really need a hiatus to survive? After more than 20 years, it’s clearly at a crossroads and offers a glittering, high-profile metaphor for the BBC’s wider challenge: how to keep its traditional audience happy, while futureproofing for the years ahead? If pressed, there’s only one thing about the show I would want to change immediately. For the rest, any producer tasked with bringing new energy might look to copy fresh elements from overseas versions, such as the imported “instant dance” round we saw last season – couples dashing to dress and improvise a routine on the spot. They might conjure up dramatic ways of welcoming back past contestants, All-Stars style. And, of course, there’s the key question of choosing the next hosts. But when they start generating ideas involving personal stories, glamour, diverse line-ups with cross-generational appeal, judges’ expertise, rehearsal videos, family messages, social media engagement and so on, they’d soon realise that Strictly already does a lot of those things exceptionally well. Perhaps it’s one of those rare shows that got it right from the start. And to put that in perspective, it launched in 2004, in an era that also heralded Pop Idol, Ant and Dec’s Saturday Night Takeaway and The X Factor. Of all those primetime offerings, it’s the last show standing. The publicist who advocated it taking a year off could be right – not because the show is tired, but because we take it for granted after so many years of giving us exactly what we need for Saturday night TV. In defence of the licence fee, Graham Norton once suggested turning off the BBC for a couple of months to remind people what they’d miss. The same would surely work for Strictly – making us appreciate afresh what a shining jewel it is. But to those regarding its familiarity with contempt, I ask: What would you have in its place? And the one thing I’d change? The theme tune. There, I’ve said it. Shot in the arm. Don’t shoot me.
Ignore the critics, Strictly Come Dancing doesn’t need changing for 2026 - apart from one thing
After two decades, Strictly faces its biggest moment of change yet – but does the BBC’s glittering flagship really need fixing?
This article first appeared in Radio Times magazine. In a festive edition of Celebrity Mastermind, one of the contestants was Strictly dancer Nikita Kuzmin (specialist subject: Cristiano Ronaldo). He wasn’t the worst of the four interrogees, particularly as English is not his primary language, meaning the Ukrainian native was, as Ginger Rogers might say, answering "backwards and in heels". It was another mark of how far Strictly has come, with the show’s dance professionals now as well known as their celeb partners – and essential members of the BBC’s talent pipeline. Some, like Oti Mabuse and Janette Manrara, are trusted with fronting other shows, while Anton du Beke didn’t even need to leave the Strictly studio, instead shuffling seamlessly into his judge’s chair. From BBC to ballroom, everyone’s a winner. Backstage allegations, complaints and investigations have seen the BBC’s biggest entertainment totem totter on its perch in the last couple of years but, thanks to sure-footed protocols behind the scenes and inspiring figures like Chris McCausland on the dancefloor, the good ship Strictly has sailed safely on. However, a much bigger change is afoot. For ten years, it has been ably steered by two solid captains and the void left by Tess and Claudia’s emotional farewell has prompted many to start muttering about the beginning of Strictly’s end. The RT postbag reveals how much the hosting duo will be missed, as well as offering suggestions for giving the show a much needed shot in the arm. One publicist who helped launch the show suggested recently a fallow year would allow a proper reset, for "new energy to return". Does the BBC’s biggest show really need a hiatus to survive? After more than 20 years, it’s clearly at a crossroads and offers a glittering, high-profile metaphor for the BBC’s wider challenge: how to keep its traditional audience happy, while futureproofing for the years ahead? If pressed, there’s only one thing about the show I would want to change immediately. For the rest, any producer tasked with bringing new energy might look to copy fresh elements from overseas versions, such as the imported “instant dance” round we saw last season – couples dashing to dress and improvise a routine on the spot. They might conjure up dramatic ways of welcoming back past contestants, All-Stars style. And, of course, there’s the key question of choosing the next hosts. But when they start generating ideas involving personal stories, glamour, diverse line-ups with cross-generational appeal, judges’ expertise, rehearsal videos, family messages, social media engagement and so on, they’d soon realise that Strictly already does a lot of those things exceptionally well. Perhaps it’s one of those rare shows that got it right from the start. And to put that in perspective, it launched in 2004, in an era that also heralded Pop Idol, Ant and Dec’s Saturday Night Takeaway and The X Factor. Of all those primetime offerings, it’s the last show standing. The publicist who advocated it taking a year off could be right – not because the show is tired, but because we take it for granted after so many years of giving us exactly what we need for Saturday night TV. In defence of the licence fee, Graham Norton once suggested turning off the BBC for a couple of months to remind people what they’d miss. The same would surely work for Strictly – making us appreciate afresh what a shining jewel it is. But to those regarding its familiarity with contempt, I ask: What would you have in its place? And the one thing I’d change? The theme tune. There, I’ve said it. Shot in the arm. Don’t shoot me. The latest issue of Radio Times is out now – subscribe here. Add Strictly Come Dancing to your watchlist on the Radio Times: What to Watch app – download now for daily TV recommendations, features and more. Check out more of our Entertainment coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
Remembering genius David Bowie and how he heralded 2016 - a year of exponential loss in showbiz history
Ten years after a year of extraordinary cultural loss, David Bowie’s death still feels like the moment everything changed.
One of my friends is a music journalist who has interviewed all the biggest names. I have long delighted in peppering him with questions. Who’s the worst mannered? Who’s really short? Who’s the most charismatic? To that last one, he said straight away: "David Bowie. Always smiling." His words returned to me in the wintry dawn light of 11 January 2016, when the news arrived that Bowie had died the previous day. I’d been up all night live-blogging the Golden Globe Awards and was about to jump in a taxi to a TV studio. I still got there, but no one cared about the Globes any more. The talk was all of Bowie: what he’d contributed in 50 years of music, what he still meant, why fans across the world were sadly drawing red zigzags on their faces. Unusual for anyone, such an outpouring of affection was remarkable for someone who had completed over half his musical catalogue 35 years before. Of the 26 studio albums that Bowie released during his lifetime, 14 were out by 1980. And there was that almost cheeky twist: his final work, Blackstar, was released just two days before his death, loaded with elegiac allusion and analysis of which could be added to the commentary around Ziggy Stardust and what Bowie himself listed as "the seven or eight things on a journalist’s checkcard: bisexual, drugs, likes cats". What we didn’t know then was that, ahead of the curve as ever, Bowie’s death heralded a year of exponential loss, as one cultural behemoth after another fell off the branch – Prince, Leonard Cohen, George Michael, Alan Rickman, Victoria Wood, Debbie Reynolds a day after her daughter Carrie Fisher, Gene Wilder, Muhammad Ali. A decade on from entertainment’s own annus horribilis, these figures remain as clear in my mind’s eye as they were then, their contributions unique, their legends unmatched because we don’t make, or treat, our stars the way we used to. There can’t be much more to say about them, but that won’t stop the 10-years-on documentaries reflecting on legacies, or fans tuning in again to relive greatest moments. It really was a terrible year for saying goodbye to talent, and any excuse to remember is a welcome one. Fittingly, Bowie the great pop pioneer kicks us off, with dedicated nights on both Channel 4 and BBC Four and a wealth of material besides. Since his death, it has become clear everyone has their personal version of "music’s Peter Pan" with his theatricality, androgyny and talent for reinvention. Music purists rushed to laud his Berlin catalogue, irritated by fans who turned up later for his platinum-haired, Miami Vice-suited pop superstardom amid the Nile Rodgers riffs of Let’s Dance. Meanwhile, his widow Iman reminded us she married "David Jones, not David Bowie". My own Bowie came through all the other stuff he shared almost casually: his beautiful speaking voice detailing how the internet would change the world ("we’re on the cusp of something exhilarating and terrifying," he told a sceptical Jeremy Paxman in 1999); declining a knighthood, saying it wasn’t what he worked for; stealing the show with self-parody on Extras, later replying to Ricky Gervais’s birthday message – "Isn’t it time you got a proper job?" –with, "I have a proper job. David Bowie, 57, Rock God." How lightly he carried his own iconography and remained, as he told Paxman, "a curious and enthusiastic person". One life, many layers. Still inspiring 10 years on and, importantly, always smiling. Read more: 'Lust is a great creative force': David Bowie reveals what drove him in exclusive interview Add these shows to your watchlist on the <a id="OWA8b702c45-bee9-94e4-f018-57518e78041b" class="x_OWAAutoLink" title="https://www.radiotimes.com/download-the-app/?af_xp=custom&pid=website&c=editorial_content&is_retargeting=true&af_reengagement_window=30d" href="https://www.radiotimes.com/download-the-app/?af_xp=custom&pid=website&c=editorial_content&is_retargeting=true&af_reengagement_window=30d" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-outlook-id="449c28d9-909e-4aab-b6b8-153454f55d5e" data-auth="NotApplicable" data-linkindex="0">Radio Times: What to Watch app – download now for daily TV recommendations, features and more. Check out more of our Documentaries coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
Ten years after we lost one of our greatest cultural figures, his remarkable legacy endures
Add David Bowie: the Final Act to your watchlist One of my friends is a music journalist who has interviewed all the biggest names. I have long delighted in peppering him with questions. Who’s the worst mannered? Who’s really short? Who’s the most charismatic? To that last one, he said straight away: “David Bowie. Always smiling.” His words returned to me in the wintry dawn light of 11 January 2016, when the news arrived that Bowie had died the previous day. I’d been up all night live-blogging the Golden Globe Awards and was about to jump in a taxi to a TV studio. I still got there, but no one cared about the Globes any more. The talk was all of Bowie: what he’d contributed in 50 years of music, what he still meant, why fans across the world were sadly drawing red zigzags on their faces. Unusual for anyone, such an outpouring of affection was remarkable for someone who had completed over half his musical catalogue 35 years before. Of the 26 studio albums that Bowie released during his lifetime, 14 were out by 1980. And there was that almost cheeky twist: his final work, Blackstar, was released just two days before his death, loaded with elegiac allusion and analysis of which could be added to the commentary around Ziggy Stardust and what Bowie himself listed as “the seven or eight things on a journalist’s checkcard: bisexual, drugs, likes cats”. What we didn’t know then was that, ahead of the curve as ever, Bowie’s death heralded a year of exponential loss, as one cultural behemoth after another fell off the branch – Prince, Leonard Cohen, George Michael, Alan Rickman, Victoria Wood, Debbie Reynolds a day after her daughter Carrie Fisher, Gene Wilder, Muhammad Ali. A decade on from entertainment’s own annus horribilis, these figures remain as clear in my mind’s eye as they were then, their contributions unique, their legends unmatched because we don’t make, or treat, our stars the way we used to. There can’t be much more to say about them, but that won’t stop the 10-years-on documentaries reflecting on legacies, or fans tuning in again to relive greatest moments. It really was a terrible year for saying goodbye to talent, and any excuse to remember is a welcome one. Fittingly, Bowie the great pop pioneer kicks us off, with dedicated nights on both Channel 4 and BBC Four and a wealth of material besides. Since his death, it has become clear everyone has their personal version of “music’s Peter Pan” with his theatricality, androgyny and talent for reinvention. Music purists rushed to laud his Berlin catalogue, irritated by fans who turned up later for his platinum-haired, Miami Vice-suited pop superstardom amid the Nile Rodgers riffs of Let’s Dance. Meanwhile, his widow Iman reminded us she married “David Jones, not David Bowie”. My own Bowie came through all the other stuff he shared almost casually: his beautiful speaking voice detailing how the internet would change the world (“we’re on the cusp of something exhilarating and terrifying,” he told a sceptical Jeremy Paxman in 1999); declining a knighthood, saying it wasn’t what he worked for; stealing the show with self-parody on Extras, later replying to Ricky Gervais’s birthday message – “Isn’t it time you got a proper job?” –with, “I have a proper job. David Bowie, 57, Rock God.” How lightly he carried his own iconography and remained, as he told Paxman, “a curious and enthusiastic person”. One life, many layers. Still inspiring 10 years on and, importantly, always smiling.
Who’s flourishing and who's floundering in The Traitors?
After the reveal of the Secret Traitor, many are living dangerously in Ardross Castle…
The following contains spoilers for the first four episodes of season four of The Traitors. Add it to your watchlist Talk of the identity of the red-cloaked traitor has governed all office chat for the past few days. “Normal” Traitors Rachel and Stephen had been invited to recruit the red-cloaked one, what they called “taking back the power”, what we called producers improvising on the hoof following barrister Hugo’s Kamikaze breakfast monologue and swift banishment. And so, only four days from the start of the series, we were back where we started, with three Traitors giggling at each other in the tower. Of course, it was going to be friendly, unassuming Fiona, in the tradition of Amanda and Linda in previous series. Fiona even told us herself last week, “Never underestimate a middle-aged woman.” The best moment: discovering that there are words in Ardross Castle more ominous than “murder”. First, we saw everyone counting heads the following day, realising there’d been no murder and hence, “There’s been a recruitment.” Even better was Claudia’s announcement that nine residents were up for murder, having been shortlisted “yesterday, in plain sight”. Even Traitor Rachel started sweating. With only one mission this episode — thankfully; that’s when I always make a tea — most of the rest of the hour was spent with conflabs in corners, alliances and accusations. Banished: Ross never really recovered from being recognised by Netty on day one. At least he has his secret girlfriend Ellie to avenge his exit. Who’s flourishing: From red cloak to black coat, Fiona has glided seamlessly through every Round Table without anyone even mentioning her name. She’s even dropping fellow Traitor Rachel under the bus without a blink. It’s a masterclass. Who’s floundering: Max, Reece or Sam will be the next to go. Reece had avoided Round Table banishment by one vote, but he was asked “Are you confident, or are you confident as a Traitor?” Impossible to answer without incrimination. The cards are stacked against him.
Queen legend Brian May argues we've lost the ability to "discuss" and "respect" other people's point of view
"There's so much suffering in the world, why would we want to add to it?"
This article originally appeared in Radio Times Magazine. Brian May has an affinity with big numbers. When he stood on the roof of Buckingham Palace in 2002 and played the national anthem on his electric guitar to celebrate the Queen’s Golden Jubilee, it was in front of a reported worldwide audience of 200 million. Prior to that he walked out on stage at Live Aid with Queen, who stole the show in front of an estimated two billion viewers. And in a musical career spanning more than half a century, his band has sold more than 300 million records, including 1975’s Bohemian Rhapsody, which remains the most streamed song of the 20th century. Yet all these figures are dwarfed by the numbers on May’s mind today, as he reels off the jaw-dropping statistics at the centre of his new book, Islands in Infinity: Galaxies in 3-D, the first publication to present galaxies in three-dimensional form, thanks to stereoscopy, a historic photographic method using pairs of images to simulate depth. “This is the culmination of a series of projects linking stereoscopy with astronomy,” May tells Radio Times. “We previously did Mission Moon 3-D (about the Apollo landings), Bennu 3-D, about a rendezvous with an asteroid, and Cosmic Clouds. Where do you go from there, once you go outside our galaxy? The answer is: other galaxies. And there are billions of them – we’re only now realising how vast the universe is and how densely packed. “Astronomy is marching forward, daily, at a vast speed, and it’s hard to keep up. But if you know what makes galaxies tick, you know what makes the universe tick. So we’ve tried to make an easy way for people to be completely up to date.” May, who has a doctorate himself on the velocity of the zodiacal dust cloud, has co-authored the book with renowned experts in the field Derek Ward-Thompson and J-P Metsavainio, and describes his role as “the catalyst, the guy who puts it together, and the editor”. He explains: “When it’s mapped out, I ask every question under the sun – why this, why that? If I don’t understand it, other people won’t. I’ve become an editor, which is a really interesting calling. The problem is, now I can’t read a book without trying to edit it.” May’s love of astronomy is as lifelong as his enthusiasm for playing the guitar; he remembers begging his parents to let him stay up to watch The Sky at Night. “I was a kid hiding behind the sofa, taking all this stuff in, getting very excited,” he reminisces. “Patrick Moore was a huge influence. I used to listen to what he said and rush outside to see if I could see it in the sky. Very inspiring.” Although May was a post-grad student at Imperial College London when he first met Moore, the pair became close friends, later collaborating on a project for the BBC. “We hit it off and he became my surrogate uncle,” May remembers. “We had so many wonderful times.” With so many disparate interests – from the protection of badgers to the construction of his own distinctive Red Special guitar – how does May fit it all together? Don’t the music and science, for example, get in each other’s way? “That’s an easy one,” he says. “Most of the most famous astronomers were musicians, from Isaac Newton onwards. It’s not unusual to have this connection in your brain. I’ve always thought that art and science were part of the same thing, although I was told as a kid, ‘You have to choose one.’ I’ve fought that all my life. I think appreciating the beauty of the universe is a big part of finding out how it works.” Such intense regard for the further frontiers brings with it consternation when May looks closer to home. “I feel despondent about the world of humans,” he says. “It keeps me awake at night. The cruelty, the ignorance, the lies, the rewriting of history. I think an understanding and love of art and music make it impossible to be the kind of person who wants to go out and be cruel to others. “There’s so much suffering in the world, why would we want to add to it? We’ve lost the ability to discuss things and respect other people’s point of view, we have a horrendous polarisation. If people spent more time looking at the stars and making music, none of this would be possible.” Fortunately, he is quick to smile when I ask if he ever tries to explain his love of complex science to his wife of 25 years, actor Anita Dobson. “We are very different and very busy,” he muses. “We don’t really have time for what doesn’t interest us, I suppose. If I try to explain too much about stereoscopic imagery, she’ll say, ‘Yes, darling, if it makes you happy, fine.’” The latest issue of Radio Times is out on Tuesday – subscribe here. You can purchase Islands in Infinity: Galaxies in 3-D, our book of the month. For all the latest RT Book Club news, interviews, Q&As with the authors, reviews of previous books and more, visit The Radio Times Book Club.
What The Traitors format twist means for the rest of series four
The BBC's latest series of their most popular show puts the audience at the centre of the action
Add series four of The Traitors to your watchlist And there was me all worried that returning to a “normal” version of Traitors after the phenomenal success of the celebrity version late last year would be akin to Dorothy’s return home after her colourful detour to Oz – not quite black and white, but certainly a bit drab. Indeed, we may not get the psychedelic characters of freshly anointed national treasure Alan Carr, the world’s first knitter Tom Daley and the silence-breaking scene stealer Celia Imrie, nor the nation-stopping moment (YET!) of Nick Mohammed’s U-turn on Joe Marler, but many of my fears were quashed within five minutes of the start of the new series. 22 people met on a train and travelled to a castle… not all of them would survive. Such a formula never broke for Agatha Christie and her many emulators; why would TV producers mess in 2025? They haven’t messed, but they’ve certainly tweaked. Many reliable elements are in place: we have notice of a former acquaintanceship – Ross and Netty previously knew each other “through mutual friends”, whatever that means – and a secret mother-daughter connection, as well as a disproportionate number of Welsh people, some of whom may not even be faking their accents, unlike in previous series. The big twist was hanging in the air, though, and what a gem it proved. Of the 22 contestants, all of whom wanted to be Traitors, unlike in the celebrity version, Claudia tapped on the shoulders of cyber consultant Steve, communications guru Rachel and barrister Hugo. So gleeful were they in their green cloaks, until Claudia announced the presence of the red-cloaked traitor in their midst – not just someone who would be ordering who they murdered with a shortlist, but who knew who they were, while keeping his or her own identity hidden. What a wonderful onion layer of intrigue to add to the already timeless gifts of seduction, betrayal, treachery and to-face fibbing coming our way in the next few weeks. It also means that, for the first time, we viewers get to play along. For years, us armchair experts have been saying guessing a traitor’s identity is Fisher Price-level detective work, while players have been telling us it’s much harder than it looks when you’re inside the castle. Well, we finally get to walk the walk and, I have to say, I don’t have a dickie bird who is wearing the red cloak, so they may have a point. Plus it was worth the price of admission alone to see the look on barrister Hugo’s face as he realised he wouldn’t have all the powers of murder and mayhem accorded to previous traitors. “I do not require middle management,” he hurrumphed. It’s a line that which will surely garner him much sympathy from workers returning to offices after the Christmas break, even if it doesn’t protect him inside the castle.
Modern TV dog-collar detectives explore morality and human nature as well as solving crimes
Add Grantchester to your watchlist How can there be so much murder in one otherwise quiet country parish? The answer, of course, is that there can’t. You may as well wonder how Grantchester’s vicar fits in any actual vicaring between all his crime-solving, or if any real-life cleric resembles a studio-system film star like Alphy, the ITV drama’s latest, and likely final, “Maigret of the manse”. Grantchester returns this week for series 10, with number 11 confirmed to be its last – sad news for a show that has always carried its profound messages deceptively lightly. For regardless of its comely setting, Grantchester goes a lot deeper than may at first appear. James Runcie, the creator of the original books, based his fictional vicar Sidney Chambers on the duties of his own father, a pre-Canterbury Robert Runcie, for whom “death did come to the door. There wasn’t any murder, but it was a life for my father that didn’t involve clocking off”. The author once told me he set out to write what he called “the story of postwar Britain, a study of morality through stories of crime”. And, sure enough, since it began in 2014, the TV version has danced nimbly between sleuthing caper and romantic intrigue, midcentury mores clashing with private passions and, ultimately, the burdens and delights of personal and social responsibility. Against the chintzy period backdrop of dog walks and picnics by the Backs, the compassionate worldview shared by Alphy (Rishi Nair) and his policeman friend Geordie (Robson Green) would seem to belong to a more modern era, a long way from TV’s ecclesiastical sleuths of old. Thirty years ago, we had Derek Jacobi in Cadfael. While the drama’s cerebral Benedictine monk was gentle and wise in his sleuthing, he was forced to leave justice to the whims of the king and the outcome of a scrappy sword fight. Even more limited was Father Dowling Investigates, about a Catholic priest whose job seemed to be more of a plot device than a vocation – a lack of seriousness not helped by actor Tom Bosley’s global fame as Howard Cunningham in Happy Days – and who seemed perfectly willing to break into private houses and fib his way around Chicago like Columbo in a dog collar. Despite being a much earlier literary creation, GK Chesterton’s Father Brown, as played by Mark Williams in the BBC’s long-running daytime drama, is more in keeping with TV’s more recent clerics. As in Grantchester, Father Brown’s postwar country setting (modernised from the books) provides fertile ground for rich storytelling. Brown uses his knowledge of human nature to solve crimes, and his own moral compass to decide whether to turn someone in. The challenges for him and Grantchester’s Alphy cut to the heart of what it means to carry other people’s dark secrets and heavy burdens. For the Reverend Richard Coles, whose debut crime novel Murder Before Evensong was adapted for TV in 2025, a vicar makes for a natural protagonist. “Nobody asks what you’re doing if you turn up,” he told RT. “You’re involved in human dramas and the motivations as to why somebody might murder somebody else. It’s your daily bread, in a way.” In its village crime rate, the vicars’ good looks and the neat resolutions, Grantchester may not always be an entirely accurate representation of life on Earth, but in its tireless curiosity about the human condition, its arrows shoot true. As Coles told us: “People bring to church their deepest fears and highest hopes. And that’s always a drama.” Series 10 of Grantchester begins Wednesday on ITV1 at 9pm, followed by episode two on Thursday at the same time. Series 13 of Father Brown begins on Friday on BBC One at 2pm
Why can’t we get enough of TV's crime-solving vicars in the likes of Grantchester and Father Brown?
A cosy whodunnit on the surface, Grantchester — like Father Brown — uses village murders as a gateway to bigger questions of faith, morality and human frailty, proving TV’s clerical sleuths are about far more than solving crimes.
This article first appeared in Radio Times magazine. How can there be so much murder in one otherwise quiet country parish? The answer, of course, is that there can’t. You may as well wonder how Grantchester’s vicar fits in any actual vicaring between all his crime-solving, or if any real-life cleric resembles a studio-system film star like Alphy, the ITV drama’s latest, and likely final, 'Maigret of the manse'. Grantchester returns this week for series 10, with number 11 confirmed to be its last – sad news for a show that has always carried its profound messages deceptively lightly. For regardless of its comely setting, Grantchester goes a lot deeper than may at first appear. James Runcie, the creator of the original books, based his fictional vicar Sidney Chambers on the duties of his own father, a pre-Canterbury Robert Runcie, for whom "death did come to the door. There wasn’t any murder, but it was a life for my father that didn’t involve clocking off". The author once told me he set out to write what he called "the story of postwar Britain, a study of morality through stories of crime". And, sure enough, since it began in 2014, the TV version has danced nimbly between sleuthing caper and romantic intrigue, midcentury mores clashing with private passions and, ultimately, the burdens and delights of personal and social responsibility. Against the chintzy period backdrop of dog walks and picnics by the Backs, the compassionate worldview shared by Alphy (Rishi Nair) and his policeman friend Geordie (Robson Green) would seem to belong to a more modern era, a long way from TV’s ecclesiastical sleuths of old. Thirty years ago, we had Derek Jacobi in Cadfael. While the drama’s cerebral Benedictine monk was gentle and wise in his sleuthing, he was forced to leave justice to the whims of the king and the outcome of a scrappy sword fight. Even more limited was Father Dowling Investigates, about a Catholic priest whose job seemed to be more of a plot device than a vocation – a lack of seriousness not helped by actor Tom Bosley’s global fame as Howard Cunningham in Happy Days – and who seemed perfectly willing to break into private houses and fib his way around Chicago like Columbo in a dog collar. Despite being a much earlier literary creation, GK Chesterton’s Father Brown, as played by Mark Williams in the BBC’s long-running daytime drama, is more in keeping with TV’s more recent clerics. As in Grantchester, Father Brown’s postwar country setting (modernised from the books) provides fertile ground for rich storytelling. Brown uses his knowledge of human nature to solve crimes, and his own moral compass to decide whether to turn someone in. The challenges for him and Grantchester’s Alphy cut to the heart of what it means to carry other people’s dark secrets and heavy burdens. For the Reverend Richard Coles, whose debut crime novel Murder Before Evensong was adapted for TV in 2025, a vicar makes for a natural protagonist. "Nobody asks what you’re doing if you turn up," he told RT. "You’re involved in human dramas and the motivations as to why somebody might murder somebody else. It’s your daily bread, in a way." In its village crime rate, the vicars’ good looks and the neat resolutions, Grantchester may not always be an entirely accurate representation of life on Earth, but in its tireless curiosity about the human condition, its arrows shoot true. As Coles told us: "People bring to church their deepest fears and highest hopes. And that’s always a drama." View Green Video on the source website Read more: Grantchester's Charlotte Ritchie explains why she doesn't watch show Grantchester's Robson Green talks unexpected James Norton reunion: "It was just beautiful" Grantchester returns to ITV on Wednesday 7th January at 9pm. Add Grantchester to your watchlist on the Radio Times: What to Watch app – download now for daily TV recommendations, features and more. Check out more of our Drama coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
12 underrated TV gems from 2025 – from The Assembly to Worlds Apart
The best of the small screen over the past 12 months that you might have missed.
This article first appeared in Radio Times magazine. As well as this year’s biggest TV juggernauts – Adolescence (Netflix), The White Lotus (Sky Atlantic), The Celebrity Traitors (iPlayer) et al – we have been spoilt with some relatively undiscovered gems. Here’s my Deserving Dozen… 1. Confessions of a Brain Surgeon - iPlayer Pioneering neurosurgeon Henry Marsh quotes French doctor René Leriche, who wrote, “Every surgeon carries within himself a small cemetery… a place of bitterness and regret.” Now retired, Marsh’s regrets are both professional and personal, humble and honest. 2. Jerry Springer: Fights, Camera, Action - Netflix How did the former Mayor of Cincinnati create a TV phenomenon that pitched itself as a champion of free speech yet stood accused of ruining US culture? Comparing himself to Oprah Winfrey, Springer said, “She does a talk show, I do a circus. Just no lions.” 3. Worlds Apart - Channel 4 Six young Brits each team up with a pensioner to travel across Japan, solve puzzles and try to win a £50,000 prize. They trade energy and wisdom in a reality show not about age, but compassion and comradeship. 4. Last One Laughing - Amazon Prime Video Ten comedians try to make each other laugh, while not smiling themselves. More proof that there’s nothing funnier than watching someone trying to keep a straight face. 5. Jane Austen: Rise of a Genius - iPlayer A fascinating two-part documentary follows Austen’s own personal rebellion: only by rejecting an offer of marriage without love and putting herself in financial peril could she dodge a woman of her time’s lot and instead become its greatest-ever chronicler. 6. Once Upon a Time in Space - iPlayer The awe-inspiring triumphs and devastating tragedies of the two-decade space race, as remembered by those involved. Among them is Anna Fisher, the first mother in space, who told RT, “I didn’t want to be a female astronaut, just an astronaut.” 7. Live Aid at 40 - iPlayer <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/3/2025/07/525554-77f2861.jpg" width="3980" height="2638" alt="A black and white still of George Michael, Harvey Goldsmith, Bono, Paul McCartney, Freddy Mercury, Andrew Ridgley, Helena Springs, David Bowie, Bob Geldof, Adam Ant and Stuart Adamson, which is shown in Live Aid at 40: When Rock n Roll Took on the World" title="525554,TITLE:Live Aid at 40: When Rock n Roll Took on the World" /> The day Bob Geldof stopped the world with music. Brian May told RT, “It was one of the few moments in anyone’s life that you know you’re doing something for all the right reasons.” Worth watching for the Radio Ga Ga clap-along alone. 8. Richard Burton: Wild Genius - iPlayer A sympathetic portrait of a star caught between worlds – stage versus screen, devoted first wife Sybil versus passionate lover Elizabeth Taylor, Wales versus the universe… Was Burton a wasted, tormented talent, or did he pack three lifetimes into one? You decide. 9. The Assembly - ITVX David Tennant and Gary Lineker are among stars interviewed by young people with autism, other forms of neurodivergence and learning disabilities. These inquisitors succeed in disarming their subjects, resulting in strikingly warm and honest telly – especially when it’s Danny Dyer in the hot seat. 10. Chris McCausland: Seeing into the Future - iPlayer A self-professed geek who has been blind since his mid-20s, comedian and Strictly winner McCausland is the perfect person to discover what Silicon Valley can offer by way of access-enabling technology – what he calls “building a bridge between blind people and the rest of the world”. 11. Ride or Die - iPlayer This documentary explores the role that Christian faith plays for bikers in the notoriously dangerous sport of road racing, many of whom tuck holy medals inside their racing leathers. It’s a window into a world of people living on the edge and at peace with the ever-present risk of falling off it. 12. Noel’s Kiwi Adventure - ITVX View Green Video on the source website With this half-jokey, half-serious series on his attempt to create a rural idyll in New Zealand, Edmonds is often effortlessly Alan Partridge: one minute you want to cheer and the next watch through your fingers. You’d need a heart of granite not to wish him well, and for his tirelessness alone he earns his place at the top of my TV Christmas tree. The latest issue of Radio Times is out now – subscribe here. Check out more of our Documentaries coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
What were the most underrated TV shows of 2025?
RT columnist Caroline Frost counts down her 12 television treats of 2025
As well as this year’s biggest TV juggernauts – Adolescence (Netflix), The White Lotus (Sky Atlantic), The Celebrity Traitors (iPlayer) et al – we have been spoilt with some relatively undiscovered gems. Here’s my Deserving Dozen…
Amandaland stars Lucy Punch and Dame Joanna Lumley on first impressions, fond Christmas memories and mini flamethrowers...
Amandaland is on Christmas Day at 9.15pm on BBC One. Add it to your collection Joanna Lumley and Lucy Punch first played mother and daughter in the 2004 film Ella Enchanted. Some 20 years later, Punch plays social climber Amanda with Lumley her scene-stealing mother Felicity, first in Motherland, and now in its spin-off Amandaland. While filming the festive special, the pair reflected on their reunion, Christmasses past and present, and what gift they’d buy for each other… Lucy, what were your first impressions of Joanna? LUCY In Ella Enchanted, we played a ghastly stepmother and stepsister to the heroine, then we were reunited for Motherland, which was lovely, and now this. All this time later, I’m a very different person, but I believe Joanna’s exactly the same: so smart and funny. She charms everyone. When you’re doing comedy, you need lots of good energy, and hers is infectious. Joanna, what have you learnt working with Lucy? Joanna I couldn’t admire Lucy more. I remember her playing my daughter, but I’m not sure they [the Motherland producers] even knew that. She’s blossomed in this. A lot of acting by many of us is interchangeable, but some people stand out, and Lucy’s always been slightly different. She brings something extra. What are your fondest memories of Christmas growing up? Joanna We were in hot countries so we never saw snow, but Mummy would get balls of cotton wool to put on the windows like snowflakes. We were out in the Malayan Mari when the Disney film of Alice in Wonderland came out. I was given an Alice doll, and it was as beautiful a thing as I’ve ever seen, with yellow hair and a hair band, a blue dress with a little white apron – thrilling. Isn’t it lovely what we remember visually? What gift would you buy each other for Christmas? Lucy I’d buy something very little, discreet and lovely, maybe a teeny, tiny book. Joanna likes little things. Joanna Lucy lives in California and has two boys, so I think I’d get her something that money can’t buy – an experience of some kind… Going down the Thames on a boat with the boys, perhaps. Yes, an adventure! Any special present you’d each like to unwrap? Joanna We were filming a dinner scene at this beautiful table yesterday, and the props boy Harry had to light and then put out the candles between every take to preserve their height. And he had a mini flamethrower. I’ve never wanted anything so much in my life. That’s going on the list. Lucy I’m just thinking about the mountain of gifts I’ve got to buy for my children [aged 10 and three]. So I really don’t want anything for myself. Give it forward, I say. That’s very Amanda, isn’t it? What will Christmas look like for you this year? Joanna I’m vegetarian so I love all the bits that go around the feast – roast potatoes, brussels sprouts with chestnuts, just not the centrepiece. Wouldn’t it be lovely if we didn’t kill things at Christmas and just for once celebrated birth and life?
Some shows thrive despite being slated by critics — because sometimes terrible telly is just what we need
Add All's Fair to your watchlist It’s important to say from the off that no one sets out to make bad TV; also that any self-professed expert should think long and hard before pouring scorn on anyone else’s creative enterprise. As Theodore Roosevelt opined, “The credit belongs to the man [or woman!] in the arena, who… fails while daring greatly.” Teddy’s words come to mind with the news that season two of All’s Fair is on its way – despite critics’ valiant attempts to bury it at sea. This is Disney’s all-female legal drama that cost a whopping $69.7million, with a hefty proportion going on the salary of real-life law student Kim Kardashian in her first acting role. The rest of it has gone on clothes, cars, Oscar-nominated co-stars, but perhaps not the script, hence its rare 0% rating on review aggregator Rotten Tomatoes. Equally rare, The Guardian and The Times both gave it zero stars – which turned out to be generous, after the Daily Mail dug in and awarded it minus three stars. Ouch! Why so harsh? Well, you could point to the barn-door acting, the bling, the mixed message of sisters doing it for themselves, as long as “it” involves roasting their rich husbands for every last dollar. You could be generous and say the fighting over jewellery is a metaphor for autonomy and emancipation – although I fear it’s really just about the jewellery. If there’s another drama to be made about women’s righteous anger (and after Riot Women I’m not sure there is), this isn’t it. This comes hot on the heels of Robin Hood, which The Guardian called “the most gloriously bad TV of the year”. Indeed, its Star Wars-esque opening caption hints at what’s to come; no need to film all those wars when they can be explained away. Instead, MGM+’s purse has stretched to casting Sean Bean as the Sheriff of Nottingham, who brings us his meting out of medieval justice as perfected in Game of Thrones, very possibly wearing the same cloak. Young Robin endures his own version of Batman’s origin story, a trauma that hardens him with every ping of his bow, and of course there’s some forbidden young love in the glades. I’m no Aaron Sorkin, but I started mouthing the dialogue before it was delivered. It’s all completely unnecessary but very welcome on a winter night. Critical contempt misses the point. Shows like these deliberately provide the same kind of nonsensical escape as And Just Like That, Emily in Paris and a dozen reality TV shows that get tagged “guilty pleasures” (no one should ever feel guilty about watching TV!). I’m guessing Kimmy’s All’s Fair castmates have altered their style to match hers; the result is Made in Chelsea level acting in scenes redolent of the “plays” in Ru Paul’s Drag Race, which is exactly what fans of this show are used to. It’s not just critic-proof, it’s critic-dependent. The more so-called experts put it down, the more curious folk (like me) will seek it out. You couldn’t buy the kind of publicity the Daily Mail gave All’s Fair for free. Nicole Kidman once said of her marriage to Tom Cruise, “When you’re loved for your faults you feel really safe.” Yes, I know he left her a year later, but I’ve always thought it a sweet sentiment, and true of many TV gems. Blake’s 7 and Crossroads are forever fondly remembered not despite their obvious flaws, but because of them – wobbly background walls and phones that carried on ringing long after being answered, respectively. Just writing that made me smile, as did the news that All’s Fair’s Tomatometer rating has risen to an impressive 3%. With that, plus it’s returning A-list line-up, it already has all the stars it needs.
As Radio 4 marks 250 years since Jane Austen’s birth, Philippa Perry explains why the author remains so influential today
When I Met Jane Austen is on Radio 4 from Monday-Friday at 1145am and 1.45pm. Add it to your collection now This year, the 250th anniversary of the birth of Jane Austen, has seen ample celebration of the life and works of this singular observer of English life in the early 19th century. So far on TV, we’ve had a three-part documentary exploring Austen’s rebel spirit, the drama Miss Austen starring Keeley Hawes, and soon to follow is another version of Pride and Prejudice, this time with some big Netflix bucks and an all-star cast. When it comes to Austen, it seems broadcasters never scrimp, and Radio 4 is proving no exception – celebrating this important anniversary in style, with a dedicated season that has already featured a new take on Northanger Abbey, Radio 4 Extra mining its archive of classic dramas, and newly commissioned radio dramatisations of Pride and Prejudice (see below right) and, next weekend, Sense and Sensibility. The latter is also explored in a special episode of Bookclub on Tuesday (Austen’s 250th birthday) with Emma Thompson. Fans can also feast on a ten-part factual series, When I Met Jane Austen, in which her biographer, Dr Paula Byrne, asks a star line-up of guests – David Baddiel, Katherine Rundell, Val McDermid, Kate Atkinson, Andrew Davies, Amy Heckerling, Gurinder Chadha, Marlon James, Colm Tóibín and Philippa Perry – about how Austen’s work has shaped and influenced their lives and own creative efforts. Like so many of Austen’s many millions of fans across the world, psychotherapist and bestselling author Perry can barely remember life without recourse to the wit and wisdom of the author she credits with “changing her life” after she first encountered her work aged 12, and studied Pride and Prejudice for English O-level. So, what is so special about Austen’s small but peerless collection of works that includes six novels (Sense and Sensibility, Pride and Prejudice, Mansfield Park, Emma, Northanger Abbey, Persuasion), one novella (Lady Susan) and the tantalisingly unfinished The Watsons and Sanditon? “It’s like having a gossip with a good friend when you’re working out what people are like,” says Perry, who has been working out what makes people tick for more than 40 years, since she first volunteered for the Samaritans. Perry is the author of four bestselling books, including the ground-breaking The Book You Wish Your Parents Had Read (and Your Children Will Be Glad That You Did), which was published in 2019 and became one of the great breakout publishing hits of lockdown. She takes a keen psychologist’s eye to Austen’s writing and is convinced that, despite the author writing about social mores observed more than 200 years ago, she continues to have a great influence on her own work today. “She is such a great observer of human behaviour,” she reflects. “I remember quotes from her that remain fresh and relevant. For example, ‘To be sure, you knew no actual good of me – but nobody thinks of that when they fall in love.’ This is Elizabeth Bennet explaining to her suitor Darcy that no one falls in love with someone because they are good.” Austen was an observer, not a speculator, adds Perry. “She never had a scene where men were talking together without a woman present because, being a woman, she had never observed that.” For Perry, that makes the author the most reliable of documenters of the human condition. “Observation, observation, observation. She may have made up the stories, but she observed humans rather than reinventing them.” What subjects would Austen be writing about if she were alive today? Perry doesn’t believe her style would be any different: “She’d be noticing how humans are with each other and what becomes of them because of how they are with each other.” Speaking as one observer of the human condition in consideration of another, would Austen have made a good psychotherapist? Perry has no doubt. “She and Shakespeare would have had a phenomenal practice!”
Dame Joanna Lumley reveals her vegetarian Christmas plans: "Wouldn't it be lovely if we didn't kill things at Christmas?"
Two decades after Ella Enchanted, Dame Joanna Lumley and Lucy Punch reflect on festive traditions, family fun and their on-screen reunion.
This article first appeared in Radio Times magazine. Joanna Lumley and Lucy Punch first played mother and daughter in the 2004 film Ella Enchanted. Some 20 years later, Punch plays social climber Amanda with Lumley her scene-stealing mother Felicity, first in Motherland, and now in its spin-off Amandaland. While filming the festive special, the pair reflected on their reunion, Christmases past and present, and what gift they’d buy for each other… Lucy, what were your first impressions of Joanna? LUCY: In Ella Enchanted, we played a ghastly stepmother and stepsister to the heroine, then we were reunited for Motherland, which was lovely, and now this. All this time later, I’m a very different person, but I believe Joanna’s exactly the same: so smart and funny. She charms everyone. When you’re doing comedy, you need lots of good energy, and hers is infectious. Joanna, what have you learnt working with Lucy? JOANNA: I couldn’t admire Lucy more. I remember her playing my daughter, but I’m not sure they [the Motherland producers] even knew that. She’s blossomed in this. A lot of acting by many of us is interchangeable, but some people stand out, and Lucy’s always been slightly different. She brings something extra. What are your fondest memories of Christmas growing up? JOANNA: We were in hot countries so we never saw snow, but Mummy would get balls of cotton wool to put on the windows like snowflakes. We were out in the Malayan Mari when the Disney film of Alice in Wonderland came out. I was given an Alice doll, and it was as beautiful a thing as I’ve ever seen, with yellow hair and a hair band, a blue dress with a little white apron – thrilling. Isn’t it lovely what we remember visually? What gift would you buy each other for Christmas? LUCY: I’d buy something very little, discreet and lovely, maybe a teeny, tiny book. Joanna likes little things. JOANNA: Lucy lives in California and has two boys, so I think I’d get her something that money can’t buy – an experience of some kind… Going down the Thames on a boat with the boys, perhaps. Yes, an adventure! Any special present you’d each like to unwrap? JOANNA: We were filming a dinner scene at this beautiful table yesterday, and the props boy Harry had to light and then put out the candles between every take to preserve their height. And he had a mini flamethrower. I’ve never wanted anything so much in my life. That’s going on the list. LUCY: I’m just thinking about the mountain of gifts I’ve got to buy for my children [aged 10 and three]. So I really don’t want anything for myself. Give it forward, I say. That’s very Amanda, isn’t it? What will Christmas look like for you this year? JOANNA: I’m vegetarian so I love all the bits that go around the feast – roast potatoes, brussels sprouts with chestnuts, just not the centrepiece. Wouldn’t it be lovely if we didn’t kill things at Christmas and just for once celebrated birth and life? The latest issue of Radio Times is out now – subscribe here. Amandaland is available to stream on BBC iPlayer. Add Amandaland to your watchlist on the <a id="OWA8b702c45-bee9-94e4-f018-57518e78041b" title="https://www.radiotimes.com/download-the-app/?af_xp=custom&pid=website&c=editorial_content&is_retargeting=true&af_reengagement_window=30d" href="https://www.radiotimes.com/download-the-app/?af_xp=custom&pid=website&c=editorial_content&is_retargeting=true&af_reengagement_window=30d" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-outlook-id="449c28d9-909e-4aab-b6b8-153454f55d5e" data-auth="NotApplicable" data-linkindex="0">Radio Times: What to Watch app – download now for daily TV recommendations, features and more. Check out more of our Comedy coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more from the biggest stars in TV, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
Jane Austen’s enduring and universal appeal revealed by hit writers, from Pride & Prejudice 1995 screenwriter to David Baddiel
This article first appeared in Radio Times magazine. This year, the 250th anniversary of the birth of Jane Austen, has seen ample celebration of the life and works of this singular observer of English life in the early 19th century. So far on TV, we’ve had a three-part documentary exploring Austen’s rebel spirit, the drama Miss Austen starring Keeley Hawes, and soon to follow is another version of Pride and Prejudice, this time with some big Netflix bucks and an all-star cast. When it comes to Austen, it seems broadcasters never scrimp, and Radio 4 is proving no exception – celebrating this important anniversary in style, with a dedicated season that has already featured a new take on Northanger Abbey, Radio 4 Extra mining its archive of classic dramas, and newly commissioned radio dramatisations of Pride and Prejudice (see below right) and, next weekend, Sense and Sensibility. The latter is also explored in a special episode of Bookclub on Tuesday (Austen’s 250th birthday) with Emma Thompson. Fans can also feast on a ten-part factual series, When I Met Jane Austen, in which her biographer, Dr Paula Byrne, asks a star line-up of guests – David Baddiel, Katherine Rundell, Val McDermid, Kate Atkinson, Andrew Davies, Amy Heckerling, Gurinder Chadha, Marlon James, Colm Tóibín and Philippa Perry – about how Austen’s work has shaped and influenced their lives and own creative efforts. Like so many of Austen’s many millions of fans across the world, psychotherapist and bestselling author Perry can barely remember life without recourse to the wit and wisdom of the author she credits with “changing her life” after she first encountered her work aged 12, and studied Pride and Prejudice for English O-level. So, what is so special about Austen’s small but peerless collection of works that includes six novels (Sense and Sensibility, Pride and Prejudice, Mansfield Park, Emma, Northanger Abbey, Persuasion), one novella (Lady Susan) and the tantalisingly unfinished The Watsons and Sanditon? “It’s like having a gossip with a good friend when you’re working out what people are like,” says Perry, who has been working out what makes people tick for more than 40 years, since she first volunteered for the Samaritans. Perry is the author of four bestselling books, including the ground-breaking The Book You Wish Your Parents Had Read (and Your Children Will Be Glad That You Did), which was published in 2019 and became one of the great breakout publishing hits of lockdown. She takes a keen psychologist’s eye to Austen’s writing and is convinced that, despite the author writing about social mores observed more than 200 years ago, she continues to have a great influence on her own work today. “She is such a great observer of human behaviour,” she reflects. “I remember quotes from her that remain fresh and relevant. For example, ‘To be sure, you knew no actual good of me – but nobody thinks of that when they fall in love.’ This is Elizabeth Bennet explaining to her suitor Darcy that no one falls in love with someone because they are good.” Austen was an observer, not a speculator, adds Perry. “She never had a scene where men were talking together without a woman present because, being a woman, she had never observed that.” For Perry, that makes the author the most reliable of documenters of the human condition. “Observation, observation, observation. She may have made up the stories, but she observed humans rather than reinventing them.” What subjects would Austen be writing about if she were alive today? Perry doesn’t believe her style would be any different: “She’d be noticing how humans are with each other and what becomes of them because of how they are with each other.” Speaking as one observer of the human condition in consideration of another, would Austen have made a good psychotherapist? Perry has no doubt. “She and Shakespeare would have had a phenomenal practice!” David Baddiel - Comedian and author “I’ve never met anyone who said, ‘Oh, my God, you like Jane Austen. What’s wrong with you? I thought you were just a football lad.’ But I used to have a Times column and the people I wrote most about were John Updike and Jane Austen. I was writing against the voice that thinks Jane Austen is just a lovable maiden aunt, but also probably against the voice that was ‘David Baddiel and his Three Lions and laddishness likes Jane Austen? That can’t be right!’ I like the fact that’s challenging. But, I’m a storyteller primarily, and Austen is possibly the greatest storyteller in English literature, so I’m always going to love her.” Andrew Davies - Writer of the 1995 TV dramatisation of Pride and Prejudice “I first read Pride and Prejudice in school and remember really enjoying it right from the start. That was the one I taught most often as a teacher. I used to read it aloud to sixth formers. You think, isn’t that a terrible waste of time? Just reading aloud like they were little kids, but they would get so much more and then be able to read it themselves. One of the things I always said in teaching is that this book is not just about social fripperies and little bits of irony. It’s about sex and money and primal urges and all sorts of big important things.” Katherine Rundell - Children’s author “I first met Jane Austen when I was really quite young, maybe nine or 10, at a time that I don’t think I would have had the stamina to read her. She is absolutely staggering. [Her Juvenilia] is like no other young person’s writing I have ever encountered in my life. It is so funny; it is so sharp. The majority of the children’s writing that I read has not yet worked out that the way a character moves through a plot is what makes a story. Children usually don’t have enough of a hinterland of knowledge of the way normal literature might work to understand how you might subvert it.” Kate Atkinson - Creator of the Jackson Brodie crime novels “You read Mansfield Park and think, well, that’s not Emma. That’s not Pride and Prejudice. I’m not sure I like that book. I revisited Fanny Price and Mansfield Park a few years ago, and wondered: why did she write this book? She’d had success with Pride and Prejudice, which she started writing quite early in her life. So at that point, she knew she was a writer, but I think that she wanted to write something that established her as a real writer, that showed she knew how to shape a novel, that she wasn’t just going to be writing Elizabeth Bennet — because there must have been a pull to write Pride and Prejudice Two.” Val McDermid - Crime novelist “I first read Northanger Abbey when I was 17, the same age as Catherine Morland and I thought, she’s ridiculous, she’s stupid. And then when I read the book again when I was in my early 30s, because I was trying to break down people who I considered to be good storytellers to see how they work, I was very impressed. I could see the humour in it and I could see why it was important to have the kind of central character that she had. The third time I read it, I was in my 50s and had a son. I saw it from the perspective of the parent, where your child is going out into the world and you’re anxious about them but you also realise the absurdity of your behaviour in many respects. Every time I read it, it’s like reading it for the first time.” Amy Heckerling - Writer of the movie Clueless, which updated Emma to modern LA “When I was in college at NYU, I took a class on British literature. We read Dickens and Sir Walter Scott and we read Emma, as a representation of Jane Austen. I just loved the book, I went crazy for it. It was so wonderful to read about such a strong, confident character. To pick up a book from another world and another time, and to find it so right on the money about what it’s like to be a young person — you can jump through time like that, and reach us.” The latest issue of Radio Times is out now – subscribe here.
We used to enjoy watching celebrities go off-piste — but now those moments are called “content” and have lost their frisson
Add The Most Embarrassing TV Guests to your watchlist It’s not often you feel sorry for Tom Cruise. Whether he’s diving headfirst into Paris’s Olympic stadium, defying gravity perched aloft Dubai’s Burj Khalifa or just donning a pair of Ray-bans to ride a motorbike along an ocean-front, he invariably epitomises cool, as if he were the love child of The Fonz and Huggy Bear – that is, with one exception. In 2005, he turned up on Oprah Winfrey’s chat show, ostensibly to promote his latest film. Instead, intent on expressing his love for future wife Katie Holmes, he variously shook his host’s shoulders, fist-pumped the floor and finally leapt onto the couch. Were we all having what he was having? Not so much. Instead, Winfrey spoke for everyone when she pointed out, “We’ve never seen you behave this way before.” In that brief, shining moment, Cruise “went viral” before it was a thing and proved he shares hallowed turf with Noel Edmonds (solemnly addressing his own Guardian statue in his recent documentary), Holly Willoughby (asking This Morning viewers, “Are you OK?” We’re fine!), Guy Goma (who went for a job interview at the BBC and ended up live on News 24) and Judy Finnigan (jaw-droppingly top-dropping at the NTA Awards). All have given us TV moments to watch through our fingers but never fully turn away from. Now they’re among those featured in an irresistible 5 documentary series (most embarrassing of all, it includes your friendly columnist as a nodding head, but don’t let that put you off). But why can’t we get enough of such clips? What puts the “fest” in “cringe”? It ill becomes us to dwell on the most obvious answer, everyone’s favourite German word schadenfreude, that is, pleasure derived from another’s misfortune, but it’s clearly a factor. Specifically, though, TV aims to offer us a world shinier, blander and more scripted than our real lives, so when humanity in all its foibles succeeds in breaking through, it’s both immensely jarring and wonderfully relatable. It’s no fun when there’s a clear victim – a young Taylor Swift was ill-prepared for Kanye West to storm her stage at the 2009 MTV VMAs, and a pair of judges were sacked after they shredded a young contestant on New Zealand’s X Factor, shouting “You’re a laughing stock” – but for the most part, such moments offer a refreshing antidote to all the blandness we’re otherwise fed. Except, these kinds of clips pretty much all date from TV times gone by. These days, there’s so much media on offer that very few what we used to call “watercooler moments” have the power to cut through the noise and stop us in our tracks. While the nation can still pause for an irate BGT contestant to throw an egg at Simon Cowell, it’s no more eventful than the slurry of such incidents available on TikTok; it’s Beadle’s About on tap. Bloopers used to be edited out, saved for the director’s reel and revealed at the wrap party. Now they’re edited in, shared with millions and called “content”. Something more profound, too, has occurred along the way. From politicians to presenters to fake heiresses to Tinder swindlers, very few public figures still remain in thrall to a single invisible referee that used to guide our behavioural norms; instead they strive for clicks, views and comments to measure success. We live in an age where there really is no such thing as bad publicity, and nobody, but nobody, actually gets cancelled. That we’ve reached this state of affairs is far more embarrassing than Judy’s button-popping boo-boo or even Tom’s sofa-leap of love.
As All's Fair season 2 beckons, critical contempt for the hit Kim Kardashian show misses the point entirely
All's Fair is returning to our screens, showing that even zero-star reviews can’t stop a determined TV drama.
This article first appeared in Radio Times magazine. It’s important to say from the off that no one sets out to make bad TV; also that any self-professed expert should think long and hard before pouring scorn on anyone else’s creative enterprise. As Theodore Roosevelt opined, “The credit belongs to the man [or woman!] in the arena, who… fails while daring greatly.” Teddy’s words come to mind with the news that season two of All’s Fair is on its way – despite critics’ valiant attempts to bury it at sea. This is Disney’s all-female legal drama that cost a whopping $69.7million, with a hefty proportion going on the salary of real-life law student Kim Kardashian in her first acting role. The rest of it has gone on clothes, cars, Oscar-nominated co-stars, but perhaps not the script, hence its rare 0% rating on review aggregator Rotten Tomatoes. Equally rare, The Guardian and The Times both gave it zero stars – which turned out to be generous, after the Daily Mail dug in and awarded it minus three stars. Ouch! Why so harsh? Well, you could point to the barn-door acting, the bling, the mixed message of sisters doing it for themselves, as long as “it” involves roasting their rich husbands for every last dollar. You could be generous and say the fighting over jewellery is a metaphor for autonomy and emancipation – although I fear it’s really just about the jewellery. If there’s another drama to be made about women’s righteous anger (and after Riot Women I’m not sure there is), this isn’t it. This comes hot on the heels of Robin Hood, which The Guardian called “the most gloriously bad TV of the year”. Indeed, its Star Wars-esque opening caption hints at what’s to come; no need to film all those wars when they can be explained away. Instead, MGM+’s purse has stretched to casting Sean Bean as the Sheriff of Nottingham, who brings us his meting out of medieval justice as perfected in Game of Thrones, very possibly wearing the same cloak. Young Robin endures his own version of Batman’s origin story, a trauma that hardens him with every ping of his bow, and of course there’s some forbidden young love in the glades. I’m no Aaron Sorkin, but I started mouthing the dialogue before it was delivered. It’s all completely unnecessary but very welcome on a winter night. Critical contempt misses the point. Shows like these deliberately provide the same kind of nonsensical escape as And Just Like That, Emily in Paris and a dozen reality TV shows that get tagged “guilty pleasures” (no one should ever feel guilty about watching TV!). I’m guessing Kimmy’s All’s Fair castmates have altered their style to match hers; the result is Made in Chelsea level acting in scenes redolent of the “plays” in Ru Paul’s Drag Race, which is exactly what fans of this show are used to. It’s not just critic-proof, it’s critic-dependent. The more so-called experts put it down, the more curious folk (like me) will seek it out. You couldn’t buy the kind of publicity the Daily Mail gave All’s Fair for free. Nicole Kidman once said of her marriage to Tom Cruise, “When you’re loved for your faults you feel really safe.” Yes, I know he left her a year later, but I’ve always thought it a sweet sentiment, and true of many TV gems. Blake’s 7 and Crossroads are forever fondly remembered not despite their obvious flaws, but because of them – wobbly background walls and phones that carried on ringing long after being answered, respectively. Just writing that made me smile, as did the news that All’s Fair’s Tomatometer rating has risen to an impressive 3%. With that, plus its returning A-list line-up, it already has all the stars it needs. This article first appeared in Radio Times magazine. All's Fair is available to stream on Disney+. You can sign up to Disney+ from £5.99 a month now. Add Down All's Fair to your watchlist on the <a id="OWA8b702c45-bee9-94e4-f018-57518e78041b" class="x_OWAAutoLink" title="https://www.radiotimes.com/download-the-app/?af_xp=custom&pid=website&c=editorial_content&is_retargeting=true&af_reengagement_window=30d" href="https://www.radiotimes.com/download-the-app/?af_xp=custom&pid=website&c=editorial_content&is_retargeting=true&af_reengagement_window=30d" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-outlook-id="449c28d9-909e-4aab-b6b8-153454f55d5e" data-auth="NotApplicable" data-linkindex="0">Radio Times: What to Watch app – download now for daily TV recommendations, features and more. Check out more of our Drama coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.