Reviews: Skins 301/302

301: 'Everyone'

Wr: Bryan Elsley
Dr: Christopher Martin

Synopsis: As the one remaining link from Seasons 1 and 2, Effy starts her first day at Roundview College with a new gang. We are introduced to Cook, JJ, Freddie, Katie and Emily (the twins), Naomi and Pandora.

Review: Brand new Skins, brand new cast, same old reliable story format. Well, apart from the fact that episode one is a free for all, introducing us quite admirably to the chaps and chapettes with whom we'll be spending the next two seasons. The jury's still out on a few but in the main, they're a fairly likable bunch with a lot of promise and even those that don't seem destined to be warming the cockles of my heart are worth reserving judgement over since, at the start of season one, I couldn't bloody stand Tony, Cassie or Michelle and I ended up loving all three. Skins will undoubtedly show us the softer, more vulnerable sides of the less likable characters sooner rather than later. So, on with the assessment.

While 'Everyone' is essentially the entire cast's episode, Elsley's script takes the perspective of three male best friends and their equal desire to bed Effy Stonem as its central narrative drive. This is hardly the most original or inspiring of plots and it is, frankly, wafer thin, but it hardly matters: the episode's job is to inaugurate, not to complicate. The three Stooges (well, if the shoe fits...) are all satisfactorily deleniated and play wel off each other, seeing as they are, quite deliberately, very, very different. So we have Freddie, who actually introduces us to the new Skins world by skateboarding through it and causing Effy's dad (great to see Harry Enfield again!) to crash his car. He's perhaps the least explored of the three so far, coming across a little mysterious and slightly withdrawn. While far from shy, he appears to survey rather than participate, keeping an eye on best friend Cook at the same time. Mind, he does confront Effy about a possible attraction in the least obnoxious way so perhaps there are additional layers. Thumbs up for this dude then: he's fairly sensible, together and he skates.

Shame about his bezzie. Cook, sadly, is a wanker. There, I said it. I couldn't agree any more with Naomi Campbell's (hah!) assessment. The boy is an arrogant, self-righteous prick with more bluster than a Tory party conference. He leeringly demeans every girl he meets by suggesting that they have a burning desire to see his, apparently well proportioned, cock and has that oh-so-masculine habit of assuming that the world revolves squarely around him and his tattooed nether-regions. Well, thanks but no thanks, mate. If Cook were a band, he'd be Oasis: overly testosteroned lager lout with far too much smoke up his arse. Impressive, then, that the guy portraying him manages to make the guy so unlikeable: that's no small feat, let me tell you. All too often, the typical response is one of complete apathy so kudos to Jack O'Connell for managing to successfully pull off arrogant and irritating.

JJ, on the other hand, is an absolute sweetheart. A little embarrassing at times, perhaps (his magic tricks, while impressive, really need to be left at home) but a sweetheart nonetheless. With a delectably out-of-control mop of curly hair, complete lack of fashion sense and more brain cells than is healthy for a sexed-up sixteen year old, JJ just makes you want to reach your ahdn into the screen and give him a good glomp. He stands no chance with Effy, bless him, but his naiviety is unquestionably adorable. Impressively, he comes across as endearingly awkward and intelligent rather than irritatingly so, which could so easily have been the result. Expect to be 'aaaah'ing at this guy's narratives in the future and probably turning to the dictionary to figure out what the hell he just said).

Onto the girls and, of course, we're all familiar with Effy. She's brilliantly weird, as per, and pleasingly, for a character who is very much the focus of the episode, takes something of a back seat, allowing the lives of the other players to unfold around her as she silently observes. We're also familiar with flighty young Pandora, who gets one of the funniest scenes in the piece as she ducks out of a horrific Nail and Beauty class. Maeks me shudder just to think about it. The true newbies are twins Katie and Emily Fitch and potential lesbian Naomi who I developed an instant shine to after she called Cook on his bullshit. The twins, however, are another matter. Evidently, we are supposed to like quiet, reserved Emily who stands in her sister's spotlight and may be having a fling with Naomi (oooo lesbianism, yay) and hate Katie for her brash, obnoxious, completely unreasonable attitude. And yeah, we do. Simple as. Katie is the female Cook, only with less beer swilling from her hands: she's rude, bigoted and completely full of herself but you just know that by about episode six, we're going to forgive her due to her 'problems'. Personally, I hope we don't set to see her vulnerable side: I'd quite like to spend the next ten weeks wishing a slow, painful death upon her sorry character. Could be fun.

This is a thoroughly engaging introduction to the lives of our new cast of characters that gives a few pleasing nods to the Skins of old (Harry Enfield, Doug the 'cool' head of year, Sid's locker) but stays sufficiently fresh to keep the narrative from becoming overly familiar. While the actual plot is somewhat lacking, the episode is more of a vehicle for the cast and, at this, it works a treat. 8.7


302: 'Cook'

Wr: Jamie Brittain
Dr: Simon Massey

Synopsis: Cook prepares to celebrate his seventeenth birthday, although things take a turn for the worse when he encounters a gangster by the name of Johnny White.

Review: Didn't take long, did it? One whole week and we've got to see 'another side' to world class cuntweasel James Cook. Well, actually, it's more of an internalised address of his inherently flawed character that we're treated to but, nonetheless, we're certainly in a different place than we were at the end of 301. The episode takes the boy's birthday as its central premise and proceeds to demonstrate, for the next forty minutes, just how much of a dick he can be before finally, someone pulls him n his shit and we get a very brief, amost 'heart to heart'. The story makes for difficult viewing as a result of this but then, one suspects that is the point. From the off, Cook is thoroughly unlikable, spilling beer everywhere, gobbing down his entire birthday cake, laughing at his uncle's completely inappropriate and boorish behaviour, scoring a shedload of drugs to enable our cast to get into an engagement party hosted by a 'local gangster' and ultimately trying it on with the bloody bride-to-be. There seems to be no excuse for his actions other than his apparent need to have his birthday be a 'memorable' and 'exciting' one (although, I am sure there are deep-rooted family issues ti be explored in future episodes) and, thus, you just want to punch the guy even more with each scene.

It's questionable whether this is a successful narrative technique: on the one hand, Skins should be applauded for portraying human nature as it is and not sugar-coating the teenage experience for easier consumption (a la Dawson's Creek). However, equally, it's a dangerous route, making one of your central characters so damn infuriating. It worked, to an extent, with Tony because the narrative trajectory allowed him to change; if Cook takes a similar route though, it may come across as rather tired. A case of 'been there, done that'. Already, there are elements of this feeling within the plot: the gangster story is far too reminiscent of the drug-dealing 'PhD owner' from season one who Tony and Sid got on the wrong side of in the first episode and spent the rest of the season running from. Now, while I understand the need to have some form of antagonist within the central plot, did it really have to be so blatant a rehash? Aren't tjere other viable story options? Sure, the scene in the brothel is a nicely executed mix of comedy and horror (Jack McConnell is excellent here: just the right side of unbalanced) but is it worth it for this one praiseworthy moment?

Certainly, the reactions of the other characters are right on the money. Freddie's rejection of his friend fits perfectly with his established position within the group and makes sense in light of Cook's decision to bed Effy; JJ remains utterly adorable, unable to pull himself away from his friend due to his loyalty and reluctance to antagonise, and only doing so when Cook almost threatens him (as an aside, how cute is the sequence between JJ and the girl in the brothel? Awww... he's never kissed a girl before!); Effy is her standard, oddball self, Pandora is freaking hilarious, Naomi offers an intriguing insight into the machinations of her relationship with Emily (it's not what we originally expected?) and Katie is, well, a royal pain in the arse. All the ulterior characters logically progress from the positions that were established last week and the battle lines between likable and downright fucking inexcusable remain firmly drawn.

Not much changes, then, aside from an acknowledgement of Cook's less than desirable characteristics, but at least we get a fairly enjoyable episode out of it. The narrative just about works in spite of the viewer's penchant for wanting to throttle the central character until he puts down his pint, throws his drugs in the canal and takes his hands off the married woman's arse. And that's no small feat, let me tell you. 8.0