Review of Shane Meadows' 'This Is England '86'

There wasn't much to be seen of Lol in Meadows' original film, save for a short scene between her and Stephen Graham's Combo (a character you won't see much of in this series, but one that still makes a huge impact), but here McClure is magnificent as the angry and damaged Lol. Her ever-shifting relationships with the people closest to her, including long-term boyfriend Woody (Joe Gilgun, one of the best things about the film, reliably delivering much of the comic relief here), long-term friend Milky (Andrew Shim) and sister Kelly (Chanel Cresswell), form the core of the story. But it's all made even more complicated by a botched wedding and the return of Lol's disturbed father Mick (Johnny Harris).

Ask anyone what they love about This Is England and nine times out of ten the answer will be the cast. Meadows' discovery on that film of a group of actors with such improvisational talent and chemistry that they seem like a real group of friends with a genuine history is probably a once-in-a-career thing. With that in mind, it seems completely justifiable when Meadows declares it was the love of his cast of characters alone that saw the creation of This Is England '86 - even more justifiable when that crucial element of the film transfers so comfortably over to the series.

There are a few additions to the original cast (though two of them, Michael Socha and Joe Dempsie AKA Skins' Chris Miles, are criminally underused), best of all London to Brighton's Johnny Harris as Lol's absentee dad. Harris is an unsettling presence from the first moment we lay eyes on him, terrifying just by calmly uttering the words "mind the seats" as a bloodied and beaten Shaun climbs in his car. Ably portraying a man with an unspeakable rage bubbling just below the surface, it's not all that shocking when Harris' Mick finally lets his sick compulsions get the better of him. Which brings me on to a caution: if anyone found the violence in This Is England shocking, there are scenes of abuse in This Is England '86 so disturbing and unforgiving that they put Milky's attack in the shade.

So, somewhat predictably, the actors in a Shane Meadows production rarely put a foot wrong. If there is a problem, it's as a result of the writing duo of Meadows and Skins writer Jack Thorne, This Is England '86 at times resembling an unsure cross-breed of the e4 teen drama and the This Is England movie. These are two very different projects - Thorne wrote Skins as an unsubtle, sledgehammer-characterised tale of excess, whereas Meadows made This Is England as a super-realistic, largely improvised lump of Brit-grit - and the two ideas inevitably clash. In the final two episodes, directed by Meadows, it's barely noticeable. However, the opening two, directed by regular Skins helmer Tom Harper, are a 50/50 split of Skins-lite and This Is England-lite. The jokes are broad and the new characters ludicrous and unrealistic; fortunately, the talent of the original cast manage to render it still quality telly.

Meadows clearly isn't the one to blame here, as he calls the shots on the far stronger episodes three and four. That said, there are some uninvolving sub-plots throughout This Is England '86 (Gadget's (Andrew Ellis) affair with older woman Trudy begins and ends as a non-event) that could have been replaced by those that are established then simply discarded by the end (the Mexico World Cup theme is barely relevant and Socha's Harvey is reduced to bafflingly limited screen-time in Meadows' episodes, despite the intriguing depiction of his home life in episode two).

But I'll be honest in saying that I quickly forgot and forgave any flaws the series might have thanks to a spectacular, nigh-on perfect final episode. Perhaps this is because the mercurial Stephen Graham returns as This Is England's troubled 'original skinhead' Combo, or that the series seems to finally find its footing. Whatever the reason, this is the real deal.

In particular, episode four's final confrontation, where Lol and her violent father at last have that inevitable clash, is masterfully assembled. It could be because the three best actors of the series - Vicky McClure, Johnny Harris and Stephen Graham - are involved, or that Meadows' directing, including one unnervingly long single take, is so effective. These last few devastating, unpredictable minutes rank alongside the best stuff Meadows has ever produced and the three actors can be proud to say that they all reach peaks in their career together.