SPOILERS BELOW!
Well, I missed out blogging last week – I think,
because Corrie had started to depress me. This week it’s been going all guns
blazing, with five nightly episodes set during the same, dark and dangerous
night.
It’s all been a bit fraught, really.
Emily stuck to her sweet sherry in the Rovers,
even when offered something stronger, during Tracey and Rob’s engagement party.
Earlier in the day she’d taken a rather large consignment of Tina’s clothing in
bin bags for her charitable causes. Tina was having a big clear out, but Emily
didn’t think there was anything strange about that. Young ones don’t make
clothing last, do they? They don’t hang onto anything.
Norris was agog with goings on. He knew that all
the furore in the backroom at the Rovers was to do with Peter telling Carla –
at last – about his ongoing affair with Tina, and how he’d almost – very
nearly! – ran away to Portsmouth with her that very day. Carla went bananas –
tooting her foghorn like crazy - and Norris was relating every single word he
could pick up to the others in the bar.
Best moment in the whole recent slew of
episodes: Peter – quivering, equivocating, simmering in his own alcoholic sweat
– and being told that he’s a jellyfish. What an insult!
Everyone’s been having an overly-dramatic time.
Even if they’re not being pushed off rooftops or having their skulls smashed in
by handy crowbars. Even if they’re not slipping out of their own party to drive
a vanful of stolen goods halfway across Manchester. It’s just one of those
weeks when everyone’s sub-plot comes to a head and gets twined into a noisome
fugue with all the other strands. So, while Tina overbalances on the edge of a
rooftop (it was the weight of her gigantic earrings that swung it, I think)
across the road there’s another long storyline reaching its climax as Anna
decides to come clean to Owen about what she was forced to do with his sleazy
boss. That scene went about as well as could be expected, with Owen turning in
a performance rather like William Shatner’s in ‘Star Trek 3: The Search for
Spock’ when he finds out what the Klingons have been up to.
It’s one of those hectic, bloodthirsty, ratings-hungry
weeks on Corrie when they try to be Eastenders – a bit like the week with the
crashing tram in 2010 – when you’re not quite sure who’s going to survive the
special episodes unscathed. I must say, it isn’t my favourite kind of ‘event
televsion’. It’s all infidelity and murder and sneaking around. I’m more on the
side of the characters who seem to be the heart of the Street, to me – Norris,
Emily, Mary and Kirk. They’re the kind of old fashioned characters, who’d never
dream of running about with deadly weapons or stolen consignments of hairdryers
or checking into mucky hotels for dubious purposes…
All the same, I can’t help feeling for Tina. Her
sense that time was running out. She had nowhere to go. It was a singularly
cruel ending for a character, I think. And it was compounded by her strange
resurrection on Wednesday night. There was a touch of ‘Fatal Attraction’ in
some of those moments: the way she rose up from the cobbles in order to give
another monologue – ‘I was born gobby, me’ – it was almost uncanny.
There are two more nights of this stuff left.