Thoroughly Shameless

I try not to blog about television programmes very often, as I don’t want any passing readers to think that I just spend my time in front of the goggle box (in fact I spend most of it in front of the google.co.uk box!). However, every so often a programme comes along that blows you away in the same way that a brilliant book or theatrical production does, and I feel that that deserves some comment.

This happened a few years ago with the first series of Shameless. The second series was equally as brilliant and then James McAvoy and Anne-Marie Duff moved on to bigger and better things and I felt it lost its edge for the next couple of series.

However, the current series is bringing it right back to its rightful place as the best thing on TV. The plot has now escalated beyond the long-suffering Gallagher family, although many of the original characters remain. We have watched Debbie and Liam grow up and the older members of the brood move off to different lives. However, the heart of the series still has that warm warm mix of tragi-comedy that makes you laugh whilst subtly breaking your heart.

Of course, it is possible that the standard has never dropped, but that it’s my perception of it that has changed. It suddenly struck me that the standard seemed to drop during the three years when I was in a settled relationship. Many of the storylines are about love, loss and heartbreak. From Ian finding the man of his dreams only to find out that it can’t be, to Debbie’s unrequited love for the wrong lad, to this week’s heartbreaker with a sober Frank finding true love only to have it snatched away by circumstances. When you are happy with someone, these sort of plotlines don’t register with quite the same poignancy as when you are your own. They aren’t relevant to your life in quite the same way. They don’t touch you quite so deeply.

So if you are one of those many people spending this Valentines day wondering why everyone else but you seems to be clutching a bunch of flowers, if you feel somehow defective whenever society assumes that the default option is to have someone, or if you ever envy those people whose existence is seemingly validated by the fact that someone loves them, then I recommend a hearty dose of the Chatsworth estate.