James Delingpole reviews television for The Spectator.
The big mistake people make with Alan Bennett is to conflate him with his fellow Yorkshireman David Hockney. But whereas Hockney’s art is generous, warm, bright, life-affirming, Bennett’s is crabbed, catty, dingy, insinuating. The fact that the BBC-led establishment keeps telling us he’s a National Treasure tells us more about the BBC-led establishment than it
Avatar (2009) Can you a cancel a film that’s all but forgotten? I challenge you to name one character besides Sully (the protagonist, whom you’ve probably forgotten as well). Yet when the woke charge comes, it’ll take Avatar in its wake. After all, what is it but a colonial guilt fantasy with a white saviour
Did Jeffrey Epstein kill himself or was he murdered — and frankly who cares? Actually, having watched the four-part Netflix series — Jeffrey Epstein: Filthy Rich — about his secretive, sordid life, I care very much. Sure, his squalid death in jail, apparently from suicide while awaiting trial for numerous sex crimes, was thoroughly deserved.
If I could live my life over again my plan used to be that I’d make my fortune very early, spend my winters fox hunting through the season and my summers taking loads of ecstasy in Ibiza and having meaningless sex with beautiful strangers. But having seen the first two episodes of White Lines I’m
Sweden is now properly celebrated as the Land that Called Coronavirus Correctly. But in the distant past, those with long memories may recall, it had a less flattering reputation as the Land Absolutely Ruddy Swarming With Jihadists. Caliphate — an eight part Swedish-made drama on Netflix — takes you back there in vivid and compelling
When I lived briefly in Stamford Hill I was mesmerised by the huge fur hats (shtreimel) worn by the local Hasidic Jews, and the wigs worn by their wives, and the almost tubercular pallor of their children. I often wondered how such a remote, aloof and archaic sect could possibly relate to 21st-century London. The
The perfect mini series is an elusive beast. In the pre-Sky and Netflix era, you’d get the DVD and it would last you a few weeks (back then, reading books was still a thing), lend it to friends, and fawn over it at dinner parties for the next few months. Yet back then we were
Imagine rooting for the Australian cricket team. If you’re Scottish, Welsh or Irish — or Australian obviously — it might not be such a stretch. But for an Englishman, I suspect, it’s nigh on impossible. It would be like supporting Germany in the (football) World Cup. Or yearning for the All Blacks to win the
They pay you a lot of money to go on Have I Got News for You? Around £5,000, I think, which is a decent whack if you’re a starving hack. But still I turned it down when they asked me on a couple of years ago and I’ve never felt the slightest flicker of regret.
Welcome to part two of my personal guide to the absolute must-see TV shows of the last few years. It is, as you might have already guessed, very idiosyncratic. No The Wire? Nope, ‘fraid not. I found it dreary and unintelligible. No, The West Wing? Also no, for ideological reasons. I’m simply not interested in
Some years ago I was invited to the British Grand Prix at Silverstone courtesy of a watch manufacturer. As freebies go it was one of the best: endless champagne, overnight in a posh hotel near the track (wife invited too), then a trip by helicopter so as to avoid all the frightful traffic jams. All
Every cloud has a silver lining. Never again are you likely to have a better opportunity to catch up with those classic TV series your friends have been banging on about but which you’ve not had time to see. I’m not saying my own list is definitive, only that if you’re not blown away by
There’s an ongoing debate in the media as to whether or not president Trump is being ‘racist’ by repeatedly referring to Covid-19 as a ‘Chinese’ virus. ‘It’s not racist at all,’ Trump insisted at one press conference. ‘It comes from China, that’s why.’ This is at least objectively true – unlike the case with Spanish
The world may be going to hell in a handcart but some things remain reassuringly unchanged: Julian Fellowes period dramas about feisty dowager duchesses, social climbing and snobbery, say. I like and admire Fellowes so I don’t want him to take this the wrong way. But when I say that his new series Belgravia (ITV)
The BBC could scarcely have chosen a less auspicious time to release as its flagship Spring drama an adaptation of Malorie Blackman’s contentious, race-baiting Noughts + Crosses. For one thing, it is under increasing pressure to demonstrate that it is not purely the propaganda arm of the liberal, metropolitan elite. For another, a dystopian fantasy
Gomorrah (Sky) Life in the Naples Mafia (the Camorra) is nasty, brutish, short – and nothing like Goodfellas. Even when you’ve made your millions from the drugs trade, there’s nothing to spend it on save your fleet of armoured 4 x 4s and your gilded cage in some bleak, rundown suburb which it’s never safe
One of my perpetual gnawing terrors is that I’ll recommend a series that looks initially promising but turns out to be total rubbish, meaning I’ll for ever have thousands of viewers’ wasted lives and disappointment on my conscience. But my even greater fear is that I’ll peremptorily condemn something after one or two episodes which
If Jeremy Clarkson had lived through the Wars of the Roses he would have been neither a Yorkist nor a Lancastrian. He would have lurked in his castle, reassuring each side of his unswerving loyalty, till the moment came when Richard III lost his crown. At this point Clarkson would make his position absolutely clear:
What a brilliant idea the concept of Hunters (Amazon Prime) must have sounded after the third or fourth Martini. “So, like, it’s set in the 1970s and America is swarming with Nazis. Actual Nazis. They’ve infiltrated every level of society and they’re totally evil and powerful, like vampires with swastikas. And all that stands in
Ever since the end of Gomorrah season four (Sky Atlantic) I have been bereft. I eked it out for as long as I could, going whole weeks without watching an episode — rationing it and savouring it as you do when you’re down to your last Rolo. But eventually I could put off the climax
