Ten TV programmes that make me the cynical, paranoid, greedy, capitalist bastard that I am today

In reverse chronological order:

1. 24 (FOX, 2001) The sheer audacity of the final five minutes of season one restored my faith in big-budget mainstream TV. The fast pace, great plotting and character of Sherry Palmer - a charismatic, evil, strong female - had me addicted. After season two it disintegrated into a marketing exercise for FORD, but in its heyday this series ruined a whole genre of movies for me.

2. MY SO-CALLED LIFE (ABC, Channel 4, 1994) was the only high-school series that got a hold of me. GRANGE HILL was nothing like where I went to school and was just too pat - cheekie kids getting into scrapes - and the whole Zammo on smack storyline was again fifty leagues removed from my life. MY SO-CALLED LIFE was bang on. The heroine, Angela, was just a normal kid. Not so pretty, not so smart, not fucked-up by irresponsible parents. But still dealing with her friends' alcoholism and homosexuality and her own messy love-life. I was devestated when it got cancelled.

3. G.B.H. (Channel 4, 1991). Written by the UK's most important contemporary dramatist, Alan Bleasdale, G.B.H. provided a book-end to the social and political upheavals of the Thatcher era. It pitted the megolamaniacal council leader Michael Murray (based on Derek Hatton) against Old Labour headmaster Jim Nelson. It showed how the political machinations at the highest levels - games played for power rather than belief - screw over the lives of normal voters. Intricately plotted and acted, the slowly revealed plot twist answers for much of my political cynicism. It also explains much of the genesis of, and naked opportunism of, the New Labour project. As the shit-rain starts to fall on Blair, I long for another Bleasdale play to chart a course through it all.

4. TWIN PEAKS (ABC, 1990) exploded every convention of what a TV serial could and should do. The visuals were beautiful, the music was haunting, the characters were kooky, beautiful, sick, twisted and full of secrets. The second series lost its way, but the final frames showing the apple-pie wholesome Agent Dale Cooper looking into a mirror at the face of BOB scared me silly. More proof, if any were needed, that David Lynch is the most important visual artist of our time and that the small screen can be used as effectively as the big screen. Shame on all those who do not try.

5. THE NEW STATESMAN SERIES 1,2 and 3 (ITV, 1987) was a vile, brutal, political satire of the worst excesses of the Thatcherite era that had me and my mates re-enacting swathes of dialogue in the playground. It featured Rik Mayall as the corrupt, nouveau riche Tory MP, Alan B'Stard. B'Stard mocked Old Labour crusty Bob Crippen, bullied the landed wet, Piers Fletcher-Dervish MP and mocked the press. B'Stard was brilliantly charismatic and you wanted him to win, so pathetic were his opponents - thus revealing the singular truth that in the Thatcher years, politics on both sides of the fence was a pretty grubby affair. Years later, my cousin Bobby would famously use the line "Right, I'm off to Stringfellows to commit adultery!" with alarming regularity. Of course, THE NEW STATESMAN became unfunny when Thatcher was ousted and replaced with that grey pillock, John Major. Not least of the charges that can be laid against that treacherous bastard, Heseltine's, door is that he pulled the rug from under much of Britain's best comedy.

6. BLACKADDER, SERIES 2,3 and 4 (BBC, 1983-) Blackadder is a peculiarly British comedy that combines dry black wit, political satire and good old-fashioned slapstick comedy. The first series was a bit weak, but by the second it hit its stride. Set in Elizabethan England, then Georgian and finally World War One, Blackadder sent up the great figures of each era in 1066 AND ALL THAT stylee. Blackadder is a malevolent, self-centred man a rung below the in-bred, idiotic ruling class, and frustrated by his infinitely greater merit. Rowan Atkinson's plaintiff sigh of "Oh, God," every time, Percy, Baldrick or the Prince Regent utter some imbecilic plan just sums up what it is to endure life in this country. Not only is Blackadder bloody funny, but in the final episode of Series 4, where the protagonists go over the top of a trench to their death, it is incredibly moving. There is no more eloquent display of the futility and horror of war than those thirty minutes. APOCALYPSE NOW and SAVING PRIVATE RYAN have nothing on it.

7. THE BOYS FROM THE BLACKSTUFF (BBC, 1982). Looking back now, it is easy to forget how radical politics was in the early 1980s and the huge social upheavals that went with it. Now we mock Chavs for wearing Burberry, but in an age of full employment you forget what the miners' strike was like. Of course, I grew up in happy, rich, South-East England with parents who read the Daily Telegraph, so the social unrest seemed like distant thunder. I can still remember the visceral impact of seeing THE BOYS FROM THE BLACKSTUFF and the demented chant, "gissa job". Alan Bleasdale's TV drama exposed for the first time on national television the huge social price of so-called modernity. I can't articulate how much of a revelation that series was.

8. BRIDESHEAD REVISITED (ITV, 1981). Of course, I didn't see this till ten years later but it remains for me the quintessial big bucks TV literary adaptation and never to be bettered. Everything about the production is indulgent in the best possible way. Waugh's novel portrays the indulged aristocratic lifestyle and laments its decline. Director Charles Sturridge (who also did a brilliant adaptation of Waugh's brutal A HANDFUL OF DUST) helms a production that spares no expense or attention to detail in bringing the country estate or the Oxford dining club to life. Sir John Mortimer is indulged with thirteen hours of airtime and so can include all the minor characters and the full intricacies of the plot. And the audience is indulged with a stellar cast, including Laurence Olivier as the Byronic Lord Marchmain and Sir John Gielgud in a chilling cameo as Mr. Ryder. I watch the complete BRIDESHEAD REVISITED once a year. It is a story full of tragic love affairs, homosexual, heterosexual, between a man and a way of life, and between people and their faith. It is glorious and shows just how TV can out-do cinema - it can take time. I passionately believe that Alan Moore's THE WATCHMEN can only be brought to the screen SUCCESSFULLY in a similar, lengthy, high-budget, utterly faithful adaptation.

9. TINKER, TAILOR, SOLDIER, SPY (1978, ITV) is another faithful adaptation of a novel that I hold in the highest regard. I saw it in the 1990s at a time when I was reading a lot of Graham Greene, Waugh and John le Carre and I can honestly say that it shaped the way in which I view the world - from politics to love affairs. George Smiley is my hero, and George Smiley will always be, for me, Sir Alec Guinness looking weary but unbowed.

10. SESAME STREET taught me the letters of the alphabet, numbers, how to cross a streeet, that there are lots of people who aren't white too..... Thinking back to all that funky music and cartoon ads for numbers sung by the Pointer Sisters, is it any wonder I grew to believe that Maceo Parker's Elephant Stepped on My Foot was the greatest track ever recorded?

The decline and fall of the STAR WARS franchise

I am the kid in class who knew the script of the original Star Wars trilogy backwards and I still have the Millennium Falcon sitting on top of my wardrobe. So it’s hard for me to review any Star Wars flick with reasoned objectivity. However, in the light of the release of the final Star Wars flick, I want to take a moment to consider what was so good about the original trilogy and what has gone wrong with the recent films. I am assuming, here, that you all know the basic plot and characters. But for any of you who don’t, there is a full plot summary at the end of this post. Needless to say, it is spoiler-tastic.

To my mind, what makes the first trilogy so resonant is the three-in-one mix of mythic/pagan archetypes; a Christian story of redemption; and a fully realised, limitless fantasy world. The gospel may be The Greatest Story Ever Told, but Star Wars amps it up by setting it in a galaxy far, far away, with weird-ass creatures, cool weaponry and cultural references from Samurais to Nazis. The acting may have been wooden and the dialogue ropey, but when you have a story arc this engaging and larger-than-life characters, who’s complaining? My theory is that in the new trilogy, Lucas undermines each of these three supporting features in a manner that leaves the shoddy dialogue and acting exposed. In addition, there is a fourth problem with the new trilogy, which I suspect is simply unavoidable.

Let’s start with the first point. I think the new trilogy is less engaging than the old because we have less archetypal characters and more fillers. In New Hope, Empire and Jedi, you could count the key characters on one hand (Luke, Han, Leia, R2D2, C3PO and Vader) and the secondary characters on the other (Chewie, Yoda, Obe-Wan, Jabba & The Emperor). All these people had well-defined personalities and relationships and were instantly memorable. In the second trilogy a couple of these guys reappear but as shadows of themselves, both in terms of characterisation on the page and the actors’ performances. Hayden Christiansen gives an inept performance as Anakin/Vader. Instead of portraying a man whose soul is corrupted, he just comes across as a petulant teen. Ewan MacGregor pastiches Sir Alec Guinness’ performance as Obe-Wan, which was itself a lazy performance. He is egged on by a script that transforms Obe-Wan into a Han-like Bond-with-a-beard. As for the the new characters, these vary from the insufficiently drawn (Mace Windu) to the racially offensive (Jar-Jar Binks). Indeed, one of the tragedies of the new trilogy is seeing an actress like Natalie Portman perform terribly, not least in the laugh-out-loud birth scene at the end of Revenge of the Sith. Only Ian McDiarmid as Senator Palpatine manages to rise above the mere dialogue and give a performance of diabolical subtlety.

The second problem concerns the use of Christian motifs. The beauty of the original trilogy is that the plot has taken us to a point where the Republic has fallen into decay and its religion has gone the way of the Jedi. Overt religious references are largely limited to, “may the Force be with you,” which mirrors the Christian “Peace be with you”. However, the subtext of the original trilogy is full of subtle references to Christian themes, aside from the more obvious plot strand which has Luke redeeming his father. For insatnce, just before firing a shot on the Death Star, Luke switches off his targeting device and “trusts in the Force.” The key point here is that the religious imagery is pushed on the audience so far but no further: there is no simple allegory. Better still, the precise nature of the Force is left vague. The Jedi are enigmatic and attractive. By contrast, in the second trilogy, a lot of this material is pushed further. Instead of resonating with Christian themes, the new trilogy adopts them in a clumsy, vulgar manner. A case in point is the assertion that Anakin was the result of a virgin birth. This is made all the more absurd because in the same breath, it is revealed that one can have a sort of blood-test for “midi-chlorians” or whatever, that indicate one’s ability to use the Force. So, on the one hand, the Jedi are genetic freaks? On the other, this is meant to be some sort of mystical conception? Make up your mind!

This brings me to the third point, which concerns the brilliantly imagined, fantasy world that Lucas creates. In the original trilogy, Lucas succeeds in imagining a number of different backdrops for the foreground action – from seedy cantinas on outer-worlds, to gleaming anti-septic battle ships, to asteroid belts. Each world has its specific hardware, life-forms, languages and costumes. The master-stroke is that the worlds look inhabited. Emperors may have shiny new star-ships, but rebels have visibly battle-scarred pieces of junk. You also have to applaud Lucas for having the balls to make a number of his characters speak languages we cannot understand – notably, R2D2 and Chewbacca. This builds up the credibility of the world we are watching. I love the fact that we infer what these characters are saying from the other characters’ reactions. One of my biggest criticisms is that, starting in Return of the Jedi but continuing in the new triology, we see the rising use of subtitles, which never fails to take me out of the movie.

However, my biggest criticism regarding the production design is that the visual purity of the original trilogy is diluted in the new trilogy. In A New Hope we had the clearly defined and contrasting yellow desert wastes of Tatooine and then the clinical white and black of the Death Star. In Empire Strikes Back we had the remorseless white ice planet of Hoth contrasted with the misty, brown-green swamp of Dagobah and the pastel Cloud City. In Return of the Jedi, once again we have desert waste followed by lush green of Endor and clinical Death Star. In each case these worlds are clearly defined with broad visual tokens – the backdrop is not cluttered or over-designed – I suspect largely because of budget and technical limitations. By contrast, in the new trilogy, each world is over-designed to the point of bewilderment. The mis-use of computer graphics leaves the eye nowhere to rest and distracts us from the beauty and originality of this star-ship or that costume. Nowhere do we have an iconic style moment similar to Princess Leia’s in New Hope or an iconic new weapon or ship. Yes, it’s neat to see a double-ended light-sabre, but before we can get excited about it, it gets trumped by a droid with four arms and four weapons!

Each battle is more complicated in its choreography and effects than the next, and the whole thing reminded me of that line from the Hitch-hikers Guide to the Galaxy about believing eight impossible facts before breakfast. (I paraphrase.) I struggle to think of any confrontation that can match the fatal duel between Darth Vadar and Obe-Wan Kenobi in New Hope, or the final duel between Luke Skywalker and Darth Vadar and Return of the Jedi. These were impressive because of the beauty of the sword-fighting but also because there was so much at stake emotionally. In the first, we have martyrdom; in the second, redemption. No amount of multiplication of light-sabres can compensate for the dramatic vacuity of the battles in the new trilogy. (My riposte to people who say I should just relax and enjoy the spectacle.) Of course, there is one duel in the new trilogy that could have matched both the style of the original duels and the dramatic weight – that is the duel between Anakin Skywalker and Obe-Wan Kenobi at the end of Revenge of the Sith. After all, the stakes are Anakin’s soul, not to mention whether the Republic remains free or becomes an Empire. However, George Lucas makes a pigs ear out of this scene, with dialogue more than usually absurd and the duel resolved not by the flick of a sword but by a reverse somersault. Insane!

So, in terms of characters, thematic material and the production design, to my eye the new trilogy desecrates the original trilogy. This is the result of a lot of conscious decisions on the part of the screenwriters, production designers and ultimately, the director. And that is before we get to the glaring plot inconsistencies that bespeak of an indifference to the die-hard fans on the part of the film-makers. Still, moving beyond sins of commission and omission, there is another major problem with the new trilogy that I feel is not the fault of the production team.

A New Hope, Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi were engaging because ordinary film-goers were seeing the story through the eyes of a bunch of under-dogs. From low-level robots to farm-hands and con-artists – the vast majority of the main characters in the first trilogy are ordinary people called upon to be heroes. This is not only romantic, but helps to keep the action down to manageable size. You can empathise more with a bunch of guys trying to Take That Hill than with seeing an mult-planet war played out on a map. The problem with Phantom Menace, Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith is that, of necessity, the story is de-personalised. After all, the new trilogy takes place at the height of the Republic. So, you can’t have Leia and Han running round the galaxy in a beat-up motor sticking up two fingers to the guys in charge. The good guys ARE the guys in charge. Leia’s mum, Padme, is an elected monarch and then Senator, and the Jedi are not eccentric wise old men living in caves but an inter-galactic Interpol. Indeed, much of the plot involves good and bad guys brokering deals in the Senate and arguing about subsidiarity and trade tariffs. The whole thing is reduced to a cross between Yes, Minister and C-Span – hardly enough to get the pulses racing. As a result, with the exception of the final duel between Anakin and Obe-Wan, most of the fights and chases in the “new trilogy” are padding. They help pass the time, sell toys and provide the basis for video games, but they do not propel the plot. The real nuts and bolts are provided by old men trying to manipulate each other in council chambers.

All in all, I would have rather left Anakin Skywalker’s back story to my own imagination rather than to George Lucas. The entire new trilogy is populated by irritating or vacuous characters uttering ridiculous dialogue, performed badly. The plot is inconsistent with the first trilogy on a number of key points and, as the action is motivated by political deals rather than battles, those battles are simply CGI-porn that carry no emotional weight. While the plot and script are under-cooked, the production design is over-cooked thanks to an egregious use of CGI and a lack of visual purity. However, this does not detract from George Lucas’ achievement in creating the original trilogy. The masterly use of archetypes, religious imagery and spare visuals created a richly imagined world populated by characters that we cared about desperately. Thus, while A New Hope and Empire Strikes Back are in my Movie Pantheon, the new trilogy should be tossed into the Cinematic Trashcan of Shame. (And, if you’re wondering, Return of the Jedi makes for a perfectly good summer blockbuster!)

STAR WARS EPISODE III: THE REVENGE OF THE SITH is on global release. Star Wars Episodes I, II, IV, V and VI are available on DVD. Be careful when buying the original trilogy as the “special edition” contains extra and altered footage which, to my mind, imports the failings of the new trilogy and corrupts the integrity of the original.

Here follows a plot summary for all six movies: The movie is both a micro- and macro-level story about the fall of a good man and his redemption. The quirk is that the redemption story was told in the old trilogy, released between 1977 and 1983. The story of the fall is told in the new trilogy, released between 1999 and 2005. Looked at chronologically, the story opens in The Phantom Menace, the first of the new trilogy. As the story opens, a group of planets are co-existing peacefully, governed by a democratic Senate and policed by warrior-priests known as the Jedi. The Jedi are able to harness “The Force” – an energy field common to all life-forms – that allows them certain physical and mental powers. However, these powers can be used for both good and bad. In the first movie, Senator Palpatine manipulates the Senate into invading one the planet Naboo and electing him Chancellor. Naboo is ruled by a democratically elected Queen, Padme Amidala. In the meantime, a good Jedi named Obe Wan Kenobi helps free a young boy, Anakin Skywalker, from slavery, and takes him on as an apprentice in the way of the force. In the second movie of the new trilogy, Attack of the Clones, Chancellor Palpatine further manipulates the Senate into granting him sweeping emergency powers and initiates the Clone Wars against the rebel Jedi Darth Sidious. Anakin Skywalker and Padme marry in secret. In the third movie, Revenge of the Sith, Padme become pregnant and Anakin prophecies that she will die in childbirth. He is lured to the dark side of the Force by the promise that he will learn how to keep her alive. Thus ensnared, Anakin massacres the good Jedi, and in a duel with Obe Wan suffers massive burns which result in him wearing the iconic body suit and helmet. It is revealed that Darth Sidious and Chancellor, now Emperor, Palpatine are one and the same. He has orchestrated the dissolution of the Republic from the inside. Padme dies in childbirth and her twins, Luke and Leia, are split up and sent into hiding.

Now we jump forward in movie time to A New Hope, the first movie of the original trilogy. Leia is a Princess, Senator & covert leader of a rebel alliance against the Empire. She is captured by Vader and held prisoner upon a new weapon of mass destruction, the Death Star. Luke is a teenage farm-hand who, in a quirk of co-incidence only possible in the movies, intercepts Leia’s distress call in the shape of two droids called R2D2 & C3PO. Luke finds Obe Wan Kenobi who teaches him about the force, but omits to tell him that his father became Vader, or that he has a sister. Luke, Obe Wan and the droids rescue Leia, aided by a smuggler called Han Solo and his co-pilot Chewbacca. Obe Wan is killed by Vader, and the rebels then launch a successful attack on the Death Star. In the second movie of the original trilogy, The Empire Strikes Back, Luke is trained by another old Jedi, Yoda, but abandons his training to rescure Leia, Han, Chewbacca and the droids, who have been captured by Vader and used as bait in a client state run by reformed smuggler, Lando Calrissian. In the escape, Luke learns that Vader is his father and loses his hand. Han is frozen in carbonite and shipped off to gang-leader Jabba the Hutt. In the third movie, Return of the Jedi, Luke, Leia, Lando and the droids rescue Han from Jabba the Hutt. Luke visits a dieing Yoda and discovers he is Leia’s sister. He rejoins Han and Leia to lead an assault a base station for a new Death Star on Endor. They are aided by Ewoks. Luke tells Leia she is her sister and that he is going to the Death Star to redeem Vader. The rebels successfully blow up the base, and Lando leads a strike force in a successful attack on the Death Star proper. Meanwhile, Vader and the Emperor try to turn Luke to the dark side of the Force. Luke refuses so the Emperor starts to kill him. This prompts the necessary redemption: Vader saves Luke, kills the Emperor and then dies. Luke escapes from the Death Star just before it blows up and rejoins his friends on Endor. The Republic can now be restored.