Oh what! You mean you don't enjoy the exciting escapades of the Wicks family, Stella making Ben drinks, Max and Stacey committing the most unlikeliest affair in human mankind, and Honey mispronouncing her words.
Oh what! You mean you don't enjoy the exciting escapades of the Wicks family, Stella making Ben drinks, Max and Stacey committing the most unlikeliest affair in human mankind, and Honey mispronouncing her words.
I saw it in the first time in over a year the only ones I stil recognise are the scant remains of the Slaters, Patrick Trueman & his missus, Peggy & Phil Mitchell, Ian Beale & of course Fat Pat!
Seen EastEnders recently? If you've drifted away from it, bored of silly sensational storylines involving improbable gangsters who never swear, now is the time to come back. Because after a long gap, EastEnders has rediscovered the beauty of the slow-burn storyline.
Back in the day (and trust me on this, I've been watching it since day one), storylines marinated and then brewed slowly but surely into plots that gripped and didn't require you to suspend your disbelief from too great a height. The decline and eventual death of Arthur Fowler took more than a year. With its roots subtly planted in the loss of his job, leading slowly to a nervous breakdown, the theft of the Christmas club money and, slowly, inexorably, his final sad demise off-screen in prison.
The pace was slower then - only two episodes a week - and EastEnders reflected real life more, I'd argue, than it does now. Great chunks of time passed when very little actually happened. The producers and scriptwriters knew the value of this: it meant that when something did happen, the impact was much greater. Who can forget Arthur's traumatic Christmas when the poor tortured man trashed his family sitting room? Sitting-room-trashing is pretty much a trope of soaps these days, but it was shocking in its intensity then.
When you've got one breathless, silly storyline after another, such as the regrettable obsession with gangsters that saw the speedy rise, fall and then plunge from a motorway bridge of Andy, a violent death or two is neither here nor there. The return of Dirty Den should have been water-cooler telly, but in the event, because it all happened so fast, if you blinked you'd have missed it. One minute he was there, the next he was being bashed over the head and buried beneath the Vic.
But there's a welcome renaissance of the slow burn storyline. Look at Stella, Phil's girlfriend. She's been around for ages and while we've been picking up whiffs that she might be a sandwich short of a picnic, it's only in the past couple of days that we're beginning to see that she's a full-blown, grade-A nutter. Her tormenting of Ben - who the scriptwriters cleverly had tormenting her in the first place - clearly has a long way to run yet.
And then there's the Dawn/Rob/May storyline. For those who haven't been paying attention, Dawn, a snotty little madam, had an affair with Rob. Later on he and his middle-class doctor wife May moved into the Square and the affair kicked off again. Dawn is now up the duff with Rob's baby and (keep up, this is where it gets complicated) not only has it been agreed that she will have the baby for Rob and the infertile May to adopt, May is encouraging Rob to pretend to Dawn that he's in love with her in order to prevent Dawn (still with me?) from either having an abortion or pushing off with the baby and leaving May without her longed-for child.
This has been going on for months and months, and it's still got some way to run. Watching the unlikeable May struggle with hating Rob for still shagging Dawn yet encouraging it is riveting stuff.
This kind of storyline is good both for the viewer and the programme. It encourages the investment of time from the viewer, who finds the plotlines deeply involving and satisfying, and gets them hooked for the long term. That in turn delivers those all-important ratings for the BBC.
So get comfy on the sofa, because if the BBC has two braincells to rub together, we'll be seeing more of these involved, involving plotlines.
Seen EastEnders recently? If you've drifted away from it, bored of silly sensational storylines involving improbable gangsters who never swear, now is the time to come back. Because after a long gap, EastEnders has rediscovered the beauty of the slow-burn storyline.
Back in the day (and trust me on this, I've been watching it since day one), storylines marinated and then brewed slowly but surely into plots that gripped and didn't require you to suspend your disbelief from too great a height. The decline and eventual death of Arthur Fowler took more than a year. With its roots subtly planted in the loss of his job, leading slowly to a nervous breakdown, the theft of the Christmas club money and, slowly, inexorably, his final sad demise off-screen in prison.
The pace was slower then - only two episodes a week - and EastEnders reflected real life more, I'd argue, than it does now. Great chunks of time passed when very little actually happened. The producers and scriptwriters knew the value of this: it meant that when something did happen, the impact was much greater. Who can forget Arthur's traumatic Christmas when the poor tortured man trashed his family sitting room? Sitting-room-trashing is pretty much a trope of soaps these days, but it was shocking in its intensity then.
When you've got one breathless, silly storyline after another, such as the regrettable obsession with gangsters that saw the speedy rise, fall and then plunge from a motorway bridge of Andy, a violent death or two is neither here nor there. The return of Dirty Den should have been water-cooler telly, but in the event, because it all happened so fast, if you blinked you'd have missed it. One minute he was there, the next he was being bashed over the head and buried beneath the Vic.
But there's a welcome renaissance of the slow burn storyline. Look at Stella, Phil's girlfriend. She's been around for ages and while we've been picking up whiffs that she might be a sandwich short of a picnic, it's only in the past couple of days that we're beginning to see that she's a full-blown, grade-A nutter. Her tormenting of Ben - who the scriptwriters cleverly had tormenting her in the first place - clearly has a long way to run yet.
And then there's the Dawn/Rob/May storyline. For those who haven't been paying attention, Dawn, a snotty little madam, had an affair with Rob. Later on he and his middle-class doctor wife May moved into the Square and the affair kicked off again. Dawn is now up the duff with Rob's baby and (keep up, this is where it gets complicated) not only has it been agreed that she will have the baby for Rob and the infertile May to adopt, May is encouraging Rob to pretend to Dawn that he's in love with her in order to prevent Dawn (still with me?) from either having an abortion or pushing off with the baby and leaving May without her longed-for child.
This has been going on for months and months, and it's still got some way to run. Watching the unlikeable May struggle with hating Rob for still ****ging Dawn yet encouraging it is riveting stuff.
This kind of storyline is good both for the viewer and the programme. It encourages the investment of time from the viewer, who finds the plotlines deeply involving and satisfying, and gets them hooked for the long term. That in turn delivers those all-important ratings for the BBC.
So get comfy on the sofa, because if the BBC has two braincells to rub together, we'll be seeing more of these involved, involving plotlines.
So basically, they're going back to the good old days of slow burning, realistic plots.
I'm all for slow burning storylines if you're able to care about the characters. I can safely I don't give a s*** about Rob, May or Dawn. And the less said about Ben the better.
Therefore these slow-burning storylines are less riveting, and more tedious than anything else.
I'm all for slow burning storylines if you're able to care about the characters. I can safely I don't give a s*** about Rob, May or Dawn. And the less said about Ben the better.
Therefore these slow-burning storylines are less riveting, and more tedious than anything else.
Quite.
Quote:
Watching the
unlikeable
May struggle with hating Rob for still ****ging Dawn yet encouraging it is riveting stuff.
