Him and Her (BBC 3) is the BBC’s notion of a really edgy sitcom.
Him and Her (BBC 3) is the BBC’s notion of a really edgy sitcom. This is not My Family. The first words uttered are from a bloke who is in bed with his girlfriend. ‘You. Are. Very good at blow jobs.’
‘Thank you,’ she says demurely.
‘And I am brilliant at receiving them.’
Moments later we see her sitting on the loo, and not just for a pee. Then a neighbour drops round to discuss, inter alia, Kate Winslet’s breasts, and how everyone pauses that bit on the Titanic DVD.
I found myself wondering what would have happened if an advance tape had been shown to Lord Reith. ‘It is, um, er, director-general, somewhat experimental in tone and content.’
‘Let me take a look, laddie! Ah yes, this is exactly the kind of thing we should be doing! Y’see, that is how young people talk to each other these days. This is how they live! Never let it be said that the BBC flinched from showing life as it really is, however uncomfortable that might be for some!’
Apparatchik, amazed: ‘So you’re quite happy with it, sir?’
Reith: ‘I most certainly am, laddie! Book them for another three series, prime time on BBC 1!’
There’s plenty of sex in Mad Men (BBC 4) as well, now back for its fourth series. I’ve tried to analyse its appeal, why I look forward so much to each episode and why I feel a sense of frustrated anticipation when it’s over. I suspect that it’s like living in someone else’s dream. While we sleep we are unsure of our identity, just like Don Draper. We float from one disconnected pleasure to another. Draper can barely meet a woman before he is in bed with her.
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