The decline of EastEnders (or Shouty-Cockney-Land) has been much discussed in this blog. And, frankly, that's because it's utterly awful. And that's a shame because I still have fond memories of watching it in my soap-column-writing days and actually thinking it was quite good. It understood characters, plots and how to build big storylines that kept me interested because they were rooted in grounded and believable characters and the ever-escalating problems they endured.
Sadly, those recollections are now but a distant memory. Watching Shouty-Cockney-Land these days is like being forced to spend time with a once-elegant and entertaining wit who's now turned into a beer-fuelled pub bore. There he sits in the corner, hoping for the return of the days when people would fete him, while he repeats the same stories and insists on drunkenly shouting the punchlines in the hope that they will at some point regain their power to entertain.
The much-heralded Xmas special was a case in point. For months, the big reveal viewers were promised was the secret of what Max had got up to with brother Derek while 'Up North'. There were several good theories about this, including a possible tryst with the long-gone ex-lover Stacey Slater and potential involvement with some East European gangsters.
What we got instead was a convoluted story about Max being married, with the supposed-to-be-divorced bride turning up just as Max and Tanya were about to remarry. Then thrown into this mix was an unknown storyline about an aborted baby.
The second storyline involved the fallout of the Alfie and Kat split after her affair with Derek. If we were supposed to have some sympathy with Kat this failed because she's essentially been such a cow to one of the few genuinely likeable characters in Albert Square. The only sane response to this dilemma was the one Alfie took, namely 'Good bye to bad rubbish.' And it didn't matter how sorry Kat was and how much one of her voice messages pleaded for Derek to leave her alone.
The climax of the episode was the death of über-baddie Derek Branning. He left with some ridiculous speech about how he wanted respect and love, then tried to physically drag Kat out of the house to start a new life with him.
This could have actually been something very good. One of the many people who hated Derek could have killed him. Enough people had a motive and if two of three of them were involved it could have been collective guilt and secrets for the rest of the year. Instead he merely collapsed in the Square, presumably from heart attack or hair gel poisoning or as a tribute to Pauline Fowler. It was shit.
Watching Enders these days is like watching a badly done Aussie soap of about 30 years ago. A story is either introduced then resolved very quickly or it meanders after making unbelievable turn after unvelievable turn that has nothing to do with any character trait but everything to do with seeing out a poorly plotted storyline.
The Xmas episode was a case in point. To make the drama more dramatic we had a shock new character and new information turn up out of the blue, then we had to accept totally unbelievable character behaviour led to this situation. Think of old episodes of bad whodunits where the villain and several vital pieces of information are exposed at the last minute before the final reveal.
Well Enders at the moment is not that good. Or even that subtle. Not even the oft-derided Aussie soaps of 35 years ago do this any more. I'm giving up on Shouty-Cockney-Land for good. Home And Away is much more believeable and it's much better written. And it's sunny.
Enders is quite simply embarrassing.
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