Lejink

This review covers all of Series 2.

Series two of the BBC's "Celebrity Across the World" featured a group of, at least to me, four Y and Z-list celebrities plus one, trekking the length of South America over a roughly thirty-day period. This is actually about twenty days less than the "general public" version which probably says something about their physical and mental demands compared to the ordinary man or woman in the street.

Anyway, the teams this time comprised an actor and his cousin, a middle-aged male dee-jay and his younger male fiancé, a TV presenter father and his son and a former female model and her Italian husband. As ever, armed with just a paper map of the continent, some money and a GPS tracker, plus of course an ever-present camera-crew eariwigging on their every word and movement, hoping for what they consider to be "good telly" moments as they react to the stresses of the journey or feel the need to open up on camera about themselves or their relationship with the person accompanying them. Personally speaking, I could care less about that part of the show, but like I said, it seems to be expected of them and unfortunately, quite literally, comes with the territory.

As I hardly knew any of the four celebs, I tried to look at them as ordinary people but of course they're all used to speaking to the camera so an element of showboating is inevitable, upping the irritation quotient with each pair. The winner of the most annoying traveller for me on this series was undoubtedly Kelly Brook, but then I just naturally detest folk who call their partner "Babe" or even worse "Babes" all the time. Hearing this and the use of terms by them and the rest like "sweet", "sick", "wicked" and the new cringe-worthy favourite "innit" is just such a turn-off for an old fogey like me. Maybe I should just turn the volume down!

The camera-work as the teams went from place to place was as spectacular as usual and with the friendliness of the native population they meet up and sometimes stay with, these, for me, are the real reasons for watching the show. The contrived race aspect and the uninteresting inter-relationships of the rather dull participants, much less so.

Still, the series in both its general public and "big"-name varieties has proven to be very popular with the viewing public. The cynic in me can't help but think about the lesser task the celebrities undertake when they take part as well as the no doubt large fees and opportunities for self-promotion it offers them, but here I am watching it again and I'll probably hitch a ride on the latest series which is actually airing even as I write this.

I'm actually working my way through all the original Bulldog Drummond novels by Sapper and great old-fashioned entertainment they are. While I've no intention of doing the same with all the BD movies which came out in the 30's, especially when they were downgraded to B-movie status, I thought the least I could do was watch the first two Hollywood talkies dealing with the character, both of which starred the ever-reliable Ronald Colman, even if he looks and sounds nothing like the character in the books. If anything, in fact, he comes over as a prototype James Bond.

As ever, our rambunctious hero is in tow with his posh buddy Algy and finds himself caught up in a nefarious plot by a foreign dignatory to land infected cargo on British shores which would kill thousands. Also as ever, there's a pretty girl jnvolved, on this occasion Loretta Young, naturally, as ever, Drummond gets himself caught and imprisoned by the baddies in a locked room and finally, as ever, escapes all too easily to save the day and, of course, get the girl.

This movie obviously belongs in a different Drummond Cinematic Universe as not only is he single again, but there's no sign anywhere of his arch-nemesis Carl Peterson.

There are a couple of mildly humorous back-stories with Drummond inconsiderately taking Algy away from his hot young bride on their wedding night and similarly getting in the hair of disbelieving police chief Neilsen in this amusing adventure yarn.

Yes, the action, if that's the correct word, is rather tame, the acting by some of the cast, particularly Charles Butterworth's Stan Laurel-inspired Algy is a tad lame and wooden while the direction and dialogue throughout is somewhat stilted and pedestrian, although Colman sails through the lead role with as much panache as he can muster and Young at least brings some glamour to proceedings.

Probably limited by the technical limitations of both the cast and crew of this relatively early talkie, it at least doesn't take itself too seriously and on the whole presents reasonable, light-hearted fun for the undiscerning viewer.

I count myself an admirer of Richard Burton even as any biography of the man will tell you that he never fulfilled his true potential as an actor. I don't know though, I can think of a number of his performances which I rate highly, even as I appreciate that his career may have been side-tracked by his liking for money, which often made him accept substandard roles purely for the pay-cheque, his fondness for the demon drink and hell-raising ways in general and just to cap it all off there was of course the distraction of his on-off-on-off relationship with a certain Ms Taylor.

In this BBC bio-pic of his formative years we get to see how he first came to prominence. Born in Wales, the son of a drunken miner, he lost his mother at the age of only two and was brought up by his older sister and her husband in their marital home. The young Burton and his older brother-in-law didn't get along but his sister always has his back, smoothing over the differences between her husband and brother as best she could.

Then, at secondary school, Richard, still going by his birth name of Jenkins, encountered a certain Mr P. H. Burton, his English teacher, a sidelined would-be writer and dramatist, who sees the potential in the young man and seeks to encourage him into an actor's life, even esconcing him next door to him in his landlady's spare bedroom to escape the domestic tension at home.

Mr Burton, the teacher, seems to live very quietly, with, as he says at one point, culture keeping him from being lonely. Gradually the boy Jenkins responds to the old man's tough if unusual learning regime as an actor even having him scream at the top of his voice, way up in the Welsh hills.

But can young Rich overcome his own demons of uncertainty, fondness for drink and even slights against his masculinity, being so closely associated with a man who many of the locals assume is gay? And just how did Richard Jenkins come to take his tutor's name and become the Richard Burton we now know, along the way?

This was a well-crafted movie, accurately evoking the post wartime era in the valleys. Basically a two-header between Toby Jones as the middle aged teacher and Harry Lawtey as his fiery pupil (with Lesley Manville just about getting a look-in as their sage old landlady), it's extremely well acted by both. Lawtey certainly strongly resembles the young Burton, even if he doesn't quite master his master's voice. As ever with productions like these, I paused now and again at scenes which seemed apocryphal, particularly the rumour-mongering around the older man's sexuality, which felt over-emphasised for modernity's sake, but on the whole this stylish and sympathetic production is well worth catching especially for those with an interest in one of the greatest British actors of his generation.