TIME: Almanac 1990/1990 Time Magazine Compact Almanac, The (1991)(Time).iso/time/011689/01168900.064

Text File | 1990-09-17 | 4KB | 66 lines

VIDEO, Page 77

"Red Harry's" Revolution

By Richard Zoglin


    A VERY BRITISH COUP
    PBS; Jan. 15 and 16, 9 p.m. on most stations

    Leftists come in all shapes and sizes, but few have the
foursquare charm of Harry Perkins. A bluff, charismatic
ex-steelworker, he has been swept into power as Britain's Prime
Minister with the most radical mandate of the century. From the
start, he proves himself a master of both style and substance.
Instead of the traditional ride to Downing Street on his first day
of work, he opts for an egalitarian stroll. To both insiders and
outsiders he pledges openness and honesty. "We stand on our own two
feet, and we tell the truth," he instructs his press secretary.
"Original, don't you think?"

    His socialist agenda is disarmingly up front (at Cabinet
meetings he calls his Ministers "comrades"), his tactics
street-fighter tough. When the U.S. Government, upset at Perkins'
antinuclear policies, turns up the economic pressure, he thumbs his
nose by going to the Soviet Union for a financial bailout.
Gleefully making the announcement at a press conference, he even
supplies the tabloid writers with their next morning's headline:
PERKINS SAVED BY KREMLIN GOLD!

    The trouble for "Red Harry," as the right-wing press dubs him,
is that he is not really in charge. His phone is being tapped. The
CIA has infiltrated his Cabinet. His own intelligence chief is
ferreting out scandals, real and invented, in an effort to bring
down his government. In A Very British Coup, an engrossing new
Masterpiece Theatre presentation, Perkins starts out trying to make
a revolution. He ends up making a stand for the quaint notion that
governments should be run by the people elected to office.

    After years of good, gray Masterpiece Theatre dramas, this
three-hour import from Britain's innovative Channel 4 comes like
a bracing wind from the North Sea. No decorous Edwardian soap
opera, no fine period costumes, no tasteful cello music. This is
a crackling, contemporary political thriller, directed at headlong
speed by Mick Jackson from a witty, clued-in script by Alan Plater.
The dialogue is dense, often overlapping, sometimes unintelligible.
Compared with such relatively simpleminded American efforts as the
NBC mini-series Favorite Son, A Very British Coup seems
revolutionary in its own right: a TV political drama for adults.

    First, it gets the texture right, from the Cabinet meetings
presided over with brusque efficiency by Perkins to the crowd of
reporters that provides a constant heckling chorus. The plot is
imaginative but plausible, just a half-step beyond today's
headlines. When the power workers' union goes on strike to protest
Perkins' economic plans, soccer stadiums are plunged into darkness
and the nation into harsh second thoughts about the new regime.
Later, to dramatize his views on disarmament, Perkins arranges to
have a nuclear weapon dismantled on live TV. "I once tried middle
of the road," he tells an aide. "I was knocked down by traffic in
both directions."

    Ray McAnally, at once steely and folksy, could not be better
as Perkins. The film's message -- that a sinister shadow government
is calling the shots, no matter who takes office -- is perhaps too
fashionably paranoid. But this savvy political tale shows an
uncynical faith in the ability of politicians to act on their
beliefs, seek change, do battle honorably against evil. After a
disillusioning presidential campaign, A Very British Coup may be
just what American viewers need.