|
More of the trials and tribulations of Dennis, with Inspector Grace the Wentworth Womble (well he looks like one to me). Dennis protested his innocence yet again, and Our Gracie said something like "I've heard that from every crim who's walked through that door in the last 20 years". Bearing in mind how reliable his "evidence" is, I can't say I'm surprised to hear it. They probably weren't lying.
So Dennis was locked in a cell, in a building which seemed to call exclusively for odd camera angles - every shot was either from the ceiling or from floor level, and mostly done with very wide-angle lenses. I don't know if this was meant to create some kind of feeling, but it just amused me and distracted me from an otherwise uninteresting storyline with a character I can’t feel any sympathy towards.
As if there wasn't enough mental cruelty in Inspector Grace's interrogation and daft evidence collecting, poor Dennis was subjected to a particularly horrible pink shirt that barely fitted the Inspector's belly. Have they no mercy?
Meg of course appeared at the police station, wagging her tail behind her, wimpering for Dennis. "What are you looking for?" she asked, when Grace said he already had someone going through Dennis' flat. "Anything," he replied. Which was instantly believable after hearing what pieces of evidence he'd collected so far. Meg later mentioned her concern that Dennis "wouldn't last a day" if he went to prison, if the inmates knew what his job had been. Presumably she'd forgotten that she'd been inside herself, in the very prison she worked in, and far from being murdered she got a bit of a slapping from Margo, but otherwise it was all chummy and best-matey with the top dog and most of the others.
But what about the women finding out..? Well just leave it to Joycie to let the cat out of the bag, as always. Or rather in this case, the newspaper out of the bag. The prisoners' reactions to nice prison officer Dennis being a possible murderer were surprising. Especially after nice prison officer David Bridges turned out to be a serial killer, and nice prison nurse Neil Murray turned out to be a dangerous psychopath, and not forgetting murdering prison officer Jock Stewart and that evil psychologist bloke whose name escapes me. I'd expect them all to sigh and say "here we go again".
Not only did I enjoy the way Joycie's handbag was left with the newspaper headline sticking out for all to read and help themselves to, I adored the way her hard-to-miss glittery gold purse was so perfectly positioned, poking out of the top of the opening, almost begging to be pinched.
But that still wasn't all for Dennis. He was being harassed too, outside his home. "Go back to where you came from you murdering pommie baaaaaastard!" had to be one of the most unintentionally amusing lines in the whole episode. And I loved the half-hearted protesters. One old codger shouting "Hey Cruickshank!" before attempting to spit aggressively, which actually looked more like he'd dribbled a bit in all the excitement. Another neighbour tossed an empty lager can, which bounced off Dennis' back with all the threat and ferociousness of Pam Ayres. And various other angry protesters, presumably stopping off on their way to the Women's Institute jam making evening.
If they really wanted to see him humiliated, they should have waited till later, when he had his grey suit on in Ann's office. Not only did the tie and jacket appear to be the same colour and same material, but I'm sure they were made of cheap upholstery fabric.
Marlene was still struggling through her "diet", which was amusing in the last episode, and I couldn't help hoping the writers would do something before the joke wore more thin than it was starting to. At least they gave Marlene the funniest line of the episode, when she yelled in frustration at the non-dieting Lexie: "You should worry, you scrawny slag!"
After asking an officer (and Joan of all people) for some political leaflets, Anita ended up getting them, and was able to hand them around freely to all the crims. I thought that normally a group of prisoners congregating for some kind of private meeting was forbidden in most prisons, which makes me wonder whether handing out political stuff about protesting would be a big no-no. But in Wentworth, the women seem to be left alone to do as they please most of the time anyway, so there would be no need for secret meetings or political canvassing anyway. So I guess it wouldn't count.
Which leads us on to the highlight of the programme, the wonderful comedy nuns. Not only the dragon-like Mother Mary Helen Sexbomb (or something like that), but also the great big eight foot tall silent one. Like watching Sister Act again, but with fancy dress costumes.
|
