Russell T. Davies has made a career of writing intelligent, entertaining and powerful contributions to the world of TV for over three decades now, with misses frequently being few and far between. His Doctor Who revival was of course seminal, but of course his more effecting contribution has been in presenting LGBT stories to a wider audience, never sacrificing quality for ‘a message’ persay. Perhaps the pinnacle of this career filled with extreme quality is his latest tour de-force, It’s a Sin, a 5 episode mini-series chronicling the lives of five friends as they traverse the tragic AIDS crisis. Directed brilliantly by Peter Hoar and filled with role after role excellently devised and superbly performed; It’s a Sin really is a triumph of story-telling, direction and ultimately a triumph of hope, even if it be an ultimately rather tragic one. One should strap in for a rave here, I should warn.
Davies and Hoar have constructed a tautly told epic tale informing us of a tale both grand in scale and wide in its decade spanning yarn, but always close and personal in its specificity and balancing of the micro and the macro. Davies’s characters and narratives are as entertaining and interesting as always, this time using multiple different angles and perspectives in an attempt to not tell the story of an entire crisis, but rather the tales of five friends and those they know beyond that, that do touch upon a lot of varying responses and tales of the dreadful disease. Grief and death are naturally centric to the story, but the masterstroke of the series is its balance of such pain with the immense happiness and joy that started the friendships of our central five figures, and in many more sparring ways continued until the very end – “La!” It is in these happier earlier moments that we get to know our characters, and of course fall in love with them, with their frequent humour, infectious joy and indeed their flaws. It is also in these early episodes that Davies and Hoar subtly imbue elements of the burgeoning disease into the narrative, usually in the background dialogue. Peter Hoar directs with frequent inspiration, allowing for natural moments of pure humanity, along with many montage sequences stylised in a clash of era fitting 80’s techno vibes and a modern frantic nature to it. I think the use of music exemplifies the best parts of the show rather aptly. Whereas certain shows set in bygone eras overload their media with song after song popular at the time to evoke a mood in a rather cheap fashion, each song choice here is purposeful and illuminating, sometimes working as wallpaper and sometimes working to punctuate a scene beautifully and elegantly. This precision of tone and choice in its soundtrack is as I say a perfect illumination of the precision that went so clearly into every element of this show which is so clearly to me a profound, profound success on so many levels.
Davies and Hoar are undoubtedly the captains of this extraordinary ship, who steer with a firm and exceptional hand, but one serioulsy cannot mention the quality of the show without discussing the absolute litany of pure talent on display when it comes to the performances. Olly Alexander leads the way as our central figure of Ritchie, who we follow in many ways over the episodes as he perhaps faces the largest arc of all. Alexander is humorous in his bliss, delicate in his pain and profoundly good at delivering a combination of both all the way throughout. The most thoughtful and effecting relationship in the show is between Ritchie and his best friend, portrayed by Lydia West. West is simply sublime and may very well be the standout in a show packed to the rafters with them. Nathaniel Curtis and Omari Douglas offer similarly complex and dynamic performances filling out our lead five, with Callum Scott Howells offering a very similar combination of joy and pain as the most naive perhaps of the group, a naivety that underscores his entire arc in a most profound way. These five lead performances all develop so indelibly over the course of run, adapting to ever-changing circumstances after ever-changing circumstance, weaving through Davies’s expertly constructed series of dialogue exchanges and Hoar’s searing montages. Perhaps the biggest strength of the show in regards to its performances is the matter of fact that there frankly isn’t a bad player in sight, not a single ‘one line extra’ felt out of place or didn’t deliver their fullest. It is a common occurrence in the show that characters and actors will appear for brief scenes and will affect you almost as desperately people we have followed for multiple hours. One final introduction scene in the final ten minutes comes to mind for beauty and elegance of storytelling and performance with minimal dialogue and screen-time. Economy is so proficient in the series that when in an episode a longer stretch of time is taken with a character than we would expect, we feel the length of the piece and find ourselves noticing every minute detail as we have been trained through the multiple ever frantic montages. Keeley Hawes for instance is given an entire episode act in the final episode when we least expect it and one of the finer dissections of character the show featured is delivered. It really is a rarity that a product so perfectly created, as this one clearly is, comes along.
After a little thought, I am more than happy to put my very minor nit-picks to the side and make this a rave in every sense of the word; 10/10. Believe the hype, Davies and Hoar have made a note perfect celebration of hope and love, aswell a profoundly powerful examination of hate, death and unparalled grief. The level of quality maintained for this show’s 5 episodes is the stuff of TV history. It’ll make careers for all of its leads, its director and has more than solidified the immense quality of talent of the familiar acting faces and the tour-de-force writing of Davies. Mary Poppins said it best; practically perfect in every way.
P.S. I know I raved about the music before; but I mean, come on! Everybody Hurts? For a show whose music choices were always so specific and well thought out, along with being phenomenal songs in their own right. To close the entire masterpiece series with this shoddy trash track feels like a mis-step. Especially when the whole of It’s a Sin itself hasn’t been played yet! Pet Shop Boys original or Years and Years cover. Come on guys. But other than that... Excellent.
- - Thomas Carruthers
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