Fitz Is Back!

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Phil Waters

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New series of Cracker is about to grace our screens in the next few weeks.

Excellent.
 
It's a special rather than an entire series, though.

It's called "Nine Eleven".
 
Hopfully it will be a return to the form of the first couple of series; some of the best TV ever made. The last special, the one set in Hong Kong, was a bit half-arsed.
 
Well, the good news is that this "special" has been written by Jimmy McGovern who hasn't written an episode of the series since 1999 when he handed over to Paul Abbot. Robbie Coltrane is said to have told the production company that he wouldn't appear in the role again unless it was in a McGovern scripted series.

Without giving anything away, I think that the views that McGovern gives Fitz in the soon to be seen programme would not go down well with George W Bush or sunybay.

As for Australia, that's where Fitz has been for seven years and he has returned to give his daughter away at her wedding. He explains to the Manchester taxi driver on his return that he's been the "land of skin cancer and Skippy".
 
Excellent. McGovern was right back to form with The Street, so looking forward to it even more now.
 
It's about the only thing that looks half-okay at 9.00 p.m. The Radio Times review wasn't totally hot: we're to be battered over the head by McGovern's opinions of Bush and Blair until we scream 'Nuff!', it seems. Leave the feckin pawleeticks out, Jimmeh, and jus' gi' us the bodies!
 
Bugger - wanted to watch it but only just made it in from the pub....(although I did manage to have a result in getting the richest bloke in Gibraltar to buy me dinner....;) )
 
I enjoyed it . Thought the new Jane Eyre was melodramatic and overdone last week so will be skipping that.
 
I wanted to give him (Fitz, not Phil) a damn good slap tonight.

Showing his warm, paternal side, he talked loudly all over his daughter's wedding reception about the dead and maimed in the Iraq war; showing his wife due respect and affection, he affirmed that, after a pause, he 'thinks' he still loves her; exposing the feminine understanding we know he secretly harbours, he then said he'd blamed her for his erectile dysfunction and helpfully added that he might've got Mr Winkle up (lucky her if she can find it in all that baleen) if he'd been 'handling young, firm flesh'.

Later, ever the caring patriarch, he averred that yes, he really would prefer to help out the inept and over-ambitious fools at Manchester Police Station than spend another moment in his beautiful little granddaughter's company. I hope she grows up and stabs him to death - mind you, she'll need a Life Guards sword to poke through all that very unyoung and unfirm 'flesh'.

Very sensibly, his wife has boarded the plane back to Oz, his residence for the past seven years which he couldn't wait to heap calumny upon the moment he was back in a rainy Manchester. Yes, folks, a rainy Manchester, because we know there's never a sunny day oop nawth, ee, bah goom.

So many ridiculous coincidences tonight, so many cliches. And the worst of it is, the fat bastid is last seen mooning into his 350th Scotch of the show, presumably setting himself up for a long sojourn delighting in the death and destruction Oop Nawth will have to offer.
 
I thought it was absolutely awful; the second victim in particular was the kind of ridiculous caricature that should never have made it past the first draft.
 
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