Sherwood (BBC One) | iPlayer
Kaos (Netflix)
The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power (Amazon Prime)
Strictly Amy: Cancer and Me (BBC One) | iPlayer
Season two of James Graham’s acclaimed crime drama Sherwood (BBC One) is a different beast to the first. The debut series showed Graham’s native Nottingham still engulfed in the factionalism (strikers versus scabs) and mysteries (undercover police spies) of the 1980s miners’ strike. Which, 20 years on, formed the backdrop to murder (a crossbow-wielding assassin; acts of desperation). Graham hasn’t reprised all of these themes, but he has produced another six-episode ballet of fraught Midlands humanity and senseless killing.
David Morrissey returns as Ian St Clair. Now separated from the wife he wrongly accused of spying, he has left the police and is working in crime prevention as an anti-violence tsar. Lesley Manville is back as widow Julie Jackson, seen sticking up a “for sale” sign. Then there’s crime family the Sparrows, headed by Daphne (Lorraine Ashbourne), a matriarch wreathed in secrets. Her youngest son, Ronan (Bill Jones), witnesses drug dealer Ryan (a visceral turn from newcomer Oliver Huntingdon) murder the son of another crime family. Enter Monica Dolan and Stephen Dillane as bereaved parents Ann and Roy Branson. They want Ronan to identify Ryan’s family (David Harewood, Sharlene Whyte, Bethany Asher) so they can target them for revenge. “Is your boy in?” asks Ann with chilling lightness, adding. “He’s in his room? I’ll go up.”
The double-episode opener unfolds like a slowly building nightmare. Ryan’s family (“We’re good people, respectable people”) run like frightened lambs from the wolves suddenly circling them. Bloody retribution is delivered with shotguns and garden tools. New lead detective Harry Summers (Michael Balogun) is plagued with mental health issues.
Having seen the whole series, there are bits I’m unsure about. You could fit a working mineshaft into the plot holes. The sociohistorical mining element is subdued but not adequately replaced: a storyline about a new mine feels curiously underpowered, even with Robert Lindsay playing a venal millionaire businessman (“You fucking people”). While the social commentary is pertinent (drugs, crime cycles, communities turned into human junkyards), it can lack subtlety. Maudlin speechifying sprouts like weeds through cracks.
Still, Graham is a wonderful screenwriter, perfectly encapsulating the Midlands brogue, where humour and menace seamlessly flatline together (“We’ve answered your questions. It’s been fun”). Amid many superb performances, Dolan produces a screen monster for the ages, part soft-knit mumsy vibes, part pure poison. Sherwood might not feel quite as original and arresting this time around, but it’s still a magnificent thriller.
Over on Netflix, from actor turned writer Charlie Covell (End of the F**king World, Truelove) comes eight-part comedy-drama Kaos, a passion project that delivers a richly layered, present-day reimagining of the Greek myths.
Jeff Goldblum plays Zeus, a narcissistic ruler of mortals and gods from Mount Olympus (now a sumptuous villa). Partial to athleisure and shooting ballboys in fits of rage, he’s paranoid about a prophecy foretelling his demise (“A line appears, the order wanes, the family falls and chaos reigns”). Janet McTeer plays his cunning, hypersexual wife, Hera. Nabhaan Rizwan is sweet party boy Dionysus, who likes humans. Orpheus (Killian Scott) pledges to rescue Eurydice (Aurora Perrineau) from the underworld. Cassandra (a dishevelled Billie Piper) keeps wailing her predictions. Prometheus (Stephen Dillane, again) hangs from a mountain having his liver pecked out by an eagle, when he’s not plotting Zeus’s downfall.
Elsewhere, subplots feature everything from a rampaging Minotaur to a greyed-out underworld featuring the River Styx and Hades (David Thewlis) as a ground-down bureaucrat. Aside from the Greek mythology, Kaos evolves into a cautionary tale about the self-serving uber-rich. Think Succession with prophecies, and Zeus recast as the Logan Roy of eternal life. It could be too conceptual and overcooked for some tastes (you can practically smell the gold leaf frying in the Greek sun), but it’s so inventive and elaborate, you end up getting sucked deep into the spirit of it.
Who recalls the first series of The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power on Amazon Prime in 2022? I’ll just wait for the silence to die down. It cost something like a trillion zillion an episode (created by JD Payne and Patrick McKay, it was the most expensive TV series ever produced), while also managing to be a twee, meandering, elf-eared snooze. It served as a kind of Tolkien-adjacent prehistory, largely based on appendices, and it’s a mark of how poor it was that the dialogue sounded dubbed when it wasn’t (who knew the biggest threat facing Middle-earth was received pronunciation?).
Now The Rings of Power has returned for a second eight-part series, and lessons have been learned. The opener kicks off (spoilers ahead) with an ultraviolent partial backstory for the evil Sauron (Charlie Vickers). Stomped by snuffling, slathering orcs, he’s pulled down into the Earth’s crust to gorge on rats. Resuming human form (as in cosplay bad-boy eye candy), he ends up on the raft some will remember from series one when, under a different guise, he saves elf heroine Galadriel (Morfydd Clark) from drowning. In this second series, she’s finally realised the dark lord isn’t the most gallant of chaps.
Halfway through the series, there have been more angry orcs, as well as the rings (Middle-earth bling), hill trolls, swamp creatures, proto Gandalf (Daniel Weyman), harfoots and another hobbit tribe, the stoors, led by Gundabel (Tanya Moodie).
It’s all still frequently irritating but that could be my personal problem with the priggish, snooty elves – must they or-aaa-te as if every line of dialogue were inscribed on stained glass? That aside, this second outing is a marked improvement. After its own choppy second series, House of the Dragon may have reason to fear for its fantasy crown.
With so much litigious darkness swirling around Strictly Come Dancing lately, it could feel as if the spangled Mount Olympus of British light entertainment is crumbling before our very eyes. A step away from all that comes a highly personal documentary from one of the show’s professional dancers, Amy Dowden – Strictly Amy: Cancer and Me. Diagnosed with aggressive stage-three breast cancer at 32, days after getting married, Dowden films her experiences: mastectomy, fertility treatment, chemotherapy, sepsis, losing her hair… It’s horrendous, and her smile often dissolves into tears.
This doc-diary then morphs into a dark fairytale about online trolls who scorn and criticise Dowden for… really, who cares? A heartfelt, honest and exposing documentary that took great courage to make.
Star ratings (out of five)
Sherwood ★★★★
Kaos ★★★★
The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power ★★★
Strictly Amy: Cancer and Me ★★★
What else I’m watching
Only Murders in the Building
(Disney+ )
Fourth series of the hugely popular comedy murder series. Alongside resident sleuths, played by Steve Martin, Martin Short and Selena Gomez, guest stars include Eva Longoria and Eugene Levy. It’s still camp, slick and deliciously playful.
Paralympics Paris 2024
(Channel 4)
After the triumphant Paris Olympics, the Paralympics. Alongside Clare Balding, presenters and pundits include former medal-winning Paralympians, wheelchair basketball player Ade Adepitan and swimmer Ellie Simmonds.
Disco at the BBC
(BBC Two)
Get yourself to Funkytown for a special night dedicated to disco clips and interviews from the ever-flowing BBC archives, finishing with a documentary about fabled New York club Studio 54.
