Or
THE LITTLE RASCALS
Or
THE BEST, BUCKWHEAT AND BUMS
Years ago, in the 1930’s, Hollywood made a series of film shorts, to show before featured films. One of the most popular series shorts was entitled ‘Spanky and Our Gang’, later to be called The Little Rascals.
One of its significances was that it kick-started the careers of the then-child stars, Shirley Temple and Jackie Cooper. But, remembering the Rascals, having watched repeats of it on television as a child, I’m struck by its similarity to Brookside today.
First, there was Alfalfa, a tall, gangly boy with an unruly lock of hair sticking strait up on top of his head. Steve Murray?
Then there was Spanky, the tough, little leader of the gang, the know-it-all. Tim?
Darla, the token girl of the group, as gangly as Alfalfa, but smug, intelligent and self-rigteous. On a good day, Jacqui Dixon-Farnham. On a bad day, Adele.
Jane, my favourite, played by the wonderful Jane Withers. A pig-eyed child who could screw her face up into the epitome of evil. She graduated from being Shirley Temple’s nemesis as a child to tormenting the adolescent sweetheart, Liz Taylor, in the 1940’s. Leanne, surely.
Jackie, the hero of the fold. Always doing right. Square-jawed and noble. Mike Dixon, with ambition?
Lil’ Shirley. All sweetness and light and good intentions. Rachel or Nikki?
Bowser the dog. Possibly a bitch. Emily?
And then, there was a little black boy - a stereotype of his race at the time. Round wide eyes, shiny cheeks, broad grin, displaying acres of teeth, a flat cap atop his head - but beneath the flat cap, droopy, dippy cornrows, reminiscent of a spider. His name was Buckwheat. Jerome?
The second half of last night’s episode saw Brookside at its absolute best and its absolute worst. We had a wonderful repartee between Christy and Leanne - and surely it’s time to pension off Jimmy and bring these two scallies to the forefront? It was so reminiscent of the early scenes between Jimmy and Sinbad in the early Nineties.
But juxtaposed with that was an entirely unnecessary and gratuitous shot of Ellison’s arse, stuck squarely in the frame of the main camera and clad in black knickers.
Sorry, Phil, but you’re going to have to wield an axe - or deflate her implants, surely.
It’s early morning and Bev’s to be found - where else? - in the bar. It’s closed, but that doesn’t stop Mike Dixon, fresh from the night shift, from pounding on the door. Bev unlocks the door and lets him in.
He doesn’t have to utter a word, says Bev, in anticipation. She knows why he’s here, and he doesn’t have to worry. She dropped Josh off at school that morning at 8:55 and she’ll be there to pick him up in the afternoon at 3:10 on the dot. Mike didn’t have to check on her.
Jimmy seems to have departed for Newcastle and Ray’s around Hotel Corkhill, ostensibly to do some household repairs in his absence, but most probably, to avoid Jessie’s evil eye and tongue. The post arrives and Nikki gathers it. There’s a letter addressed to her. She opens it and looks distressed.
It’s from the local video shop, she tells Ray.
He asks what the problem is.
Well, Nikki explains, she and Jerome had this video out, which they didn’t take back, because it was destroyed in the fire. (Nikki strategically neglects to tell Ray that the video was three weeks’ overdue when the fire occurred). The letter was giving her a choice. She could either pay the overdue fine and return the video, replace the video at the shop or get taken to court.
Ray asks what she plans to do.
Get taken to court, she replies, with self-pitying resignation.
Leanne is skulking about the garage, getting ready to leave, when a figure sitting in a white van nearby, calls her name. It’s Christy.
‘Oh,’ sneers Leanne in her classicaly characteristic way, ‘so the Yellow Streak’s reterrrned! Boot the slightest bit o’ trooble and ‘e’s off!’
He had pointedly left her unable to cope with the bar and in desperate need of cash.
Christy, head hanging out the door of the van, attempts to explain to Leanne that he had to make himself scarce. His life was in danger, from the robbers from whom he’d nicked the booze. They were after him. In fact, he had to leave town for a bit.
Yeah, sure, says Leanne, bored with venom. She reminds him that he’d already paid off the robbers, by providing them with all of Bev’s stock.
Nisha’s in the back room of the clinic, when Sammy barges in, carrying a Tupperware tub with her lunch. She asks if she’s OK to have lunch here with Nisha, who agrees and Sammy sits down. Sammy looks great. OK, so there was a bit of midriff bulge, but she’s easily the most attractive woman on this show, and like Bev, a natural beauty, as opposed to the honed, dyed, pierced, bleached and blown-up likes of Misses Fletcher, Collins and Ellison.
As she takes a seat opposite Nisha, Sammy says that she can’t wait for the bar to re-open.
Nisha remarks that she isn’t so sure it WILL re-open. She explains that after that slugfest in The Parade the day before between Leanne and Bev, that Leanne one had only been into the clinic trying to get a certificate from Gary Parr.
Did she get one? Asks Sammy.
From Gary? Replies Nisha. No. He’s a man of principle, is our Gary. He told her to do one.
Sammy, ever on the lookout for a rich and prosperous partner, remarks that she could do with someone like Dr Parr.
Mike’s come back to the bar, searching for Bev. He’s at pains to point out to her that he hasn’t come back to check on her, he just wants to talk. He apologises for his rant yesterday, admitting that he was OTT. He was tired, he says, and therefore, took his fatigue out on everyone at hand.
Bev tells him he’s working too hard, but Mike tells her that he can’t afford to give up working the long hours.
Looking around, Mike tells Bev that the place is looking better.
Bev sighs and confesses that she doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to re-open. Leanne had done too much damage.
Mike refers to Leanne as an ‘evil cow’, while Bev continues to bemoan the fact that things seem to have gone from bad to worse, and she doesn’t think she’ll ever get over this.
Christy and Leanne are having their version of a serious conversation, with Leanne bringing Christy up to date on all that’s happened. First, however, she ticks him off. What was Christy playing at by disappearing like that? She harangues. Why, a person could grow roots waiting for him to crop up. And why didn’t he get in touch?
Well, Christy moves his lips and lies, he DID try to telephone her, but her phone kept ringing out. Er, and he DID write her a letter -
Which she appears never to have received, Leanne says.
But he did write it, honest, he says. In fact, he wrote her a poem in it as well.
OK, counters Leanne, unconvinced of Christy’s veracity, if he wrote a poem for her, what did it say?
Christy protests that it was difficult to remember exactly how it went -
‘TRY!’ Demands Leanne, truculently.
Christy, haltingly, begins to recite ‘from memory’:
‘"My beautiful Leanne" it began,’ he says.
Yes. And ...
‘The one that I ... Adore,’ stammers Christy.
Go on, Leanne urges.
‘I ... Hate to keep away,’ he recites.
There’s an uncomfortable pause. Sensing he’s not finished, Leanne urges him threateningly to continue.
Christy’s mouth moves silently for a few seconds.
What else? Demands Leanne.
‘I want ... I want ... I want to have you on the floor,’ finishes Christy, triumphantly.
Leanne flushes and blushes with maidenly pleasure, telling Christy how nice the poem was and kissing him on the cheek.
Does this mean we’re back together? Asks Christy, and Leanne answers him by giving him a full-face snog.
She’s told him about her contretemps with Bev, only making it sound as though SHE gave BEV the beating and came off the worse for it. Christy looks at her closely. Hmmm ... Leanne didn’t appear to have a mark on her. How was she hoping to get compensation?
Well, Leanne explains, her solicitor said that in order to establish a case, she had to be examined by a doctor, in order to confirm her injuries. She’d been to the Walk-In Centre, but that snotty doctor there refused to certificate her.
Christy encourages Leanne not to worry. However, he points out, knowingly, in compensation cases, people aren’t worried about short-term injuries. It’s the long-term injuries that are the most fiscally rewardable.
He invites Leanne for a spot of lunch.
Mike and Bev are still chatting. Mike tells her that, seeing the state of the place the day before, he was worried about Josh. Bev admits that her forgetting to pick up Josh the day before was unforgiveable. She had to get herself sorted.
Tim and Plank, with nothing better to do, enter the bar just then. Bev tells them that, except for tea and soft drinks, the bar was closed, but Tim asks if they can use the pool table for a game and invites Mike to play the winner.
Mike protests that he just came down for a chat with Bev, but he gets talked into a subsequent game.
PneumataGirl puts in an appearance at Hotel Corkhill, wearing the shirt that doubles as her salon uniform and a new leather motorcycle paddock jacket. She finds Nikki at home and Ray pottering about.
Nikki remarks that Em’s home early, and the Mekon says that her lecture at college was cancelled. She asks where Tim is.
Nikki complements her on her coat and tells her that Tim’s out. Ray volunteers that Tim set off for Bev’s with Plank to play some pool. The Mekon leaves in search of him.
When she’s gone, Ray asks Nikki thoughtfully, if Nikki thinks Ray’s made a mess of his life.
Why? Dr Nikki asks, suddenly reluctant to display her counselling skills.
Well, Ray muses, he’d deserted his daughter and now he found that he had a granddaughter. He’s homeless now and living off the charity of neighbours.
The best piece of advice that Dr Nikki can offer her latest patient is simply that ‘these things happen in life’. The best Ray can do is to get on with it. Finally, she admits, hopelessly, that there really was no advice that she could give him.
The doorbell sounds and Nikki opens it to Jessie, who comes into the Corkhill lounge carrying an official-looking piece of correspondence. She asks Nikki if the girl would mind leaving her and Ray alone for ten minutes. There’s been some bad news.
Sammy and Nisha are still enjoying their extended lunch - is this how the NHS operates, I wonder? Sammy, again, expresses her fancying of Dr Parr. That’s odd, Nisha comments, she thought Sammy had a thing for Sol.
Well, yes and no, admits Sammy, reluctantly. Thing is, she wasn’t sure Sol was going to be around long-term. (Hmmm ... Is this a hint that the character is being dropped to make way for Jacqui’s return to running the Health Club?) It seems Sol’s wife isn’t too keen on him commuting and working away from Leeds.
Well, Nisha pursues, what about Richard?
Sammy and Richard are history, Sammy says. Richard’s got his new trophy bride, she says, and that’s all that matters to him. Louise is upset about the marriage break-up, though, she admits, ruefully. She’s giving Sammy the silent treatment at the moment, thinking the break-up is all Sammy’s fault.
Nisha assures Sammy that Louise will get over it.
Jessie and Ray have called a conflab at Hotel Corkhill, with Nikki and Jerome, hereafter to be referred to as ‘Buckwheat’ in attendance.
Jessie comes straight to the point of the meeting. She and Ray had heard from the insurance company. They weren’t willing to pay out the whole claim. They were prepared to give the couple £10,000 less than they were claiming, maintaining that they were only prepared to pay the amount for which the house and its contents were originally insured. The truth of the matter now, is that there isn’t going to be enough money to go around between the four of them.
Jessie and Ray had discussed the matter between them, and they felt that the bulk of the £19,000 that they would receive should, rightly, go to restore the bungalow. Anything left over would be shared out between them four of them living there at the time of the fire.
Basically, they were under-insured.
Tim and Plank are hard at playing a game of pool. Plank’s telling Tim about the kick-off at the garage yesterday, witnessed by Adele.
Hats off to Bev, comments Tim. He vows he wouldn’t want to go three rounds with Miss Tyson.
Plank says Adele’s told him that Leanne is off work today, suffering from the trauma of the situation.
Tim, however, is eager to talk about plans for his next heist, but Plank maintains maintains that enough is enough for him. It’s all very well for Tim’s plans to set up his own business eventually as a front. Plank reckons it’ll be a high street shop and the business will be called ‘T O’Leary’s Scams Unlimited’.
Christy and Leanne are sitting in the cab of his van somewhere in a carpark, reviewing Leanne’s situation. Christy is bemoaning the fact that he let Leanne down badly recently. She never once grassed him up, he acknowledges. He should have at least been there for her when she needed him - mostly yesterday.
Oh, Leanne wasn’t worried about that, she says. She had a witness and the CCTV at the garage captured the whole incident on video.
CCTV? Echoes Christy. Didn’t Leanne realise those things were wiped clean after 24 hours? It’s a good job Christy’s returned!
Tim is still trying to coerce Plank into becoming his accomplice in crime yet again. It would be beneficial for Plank this time, he promises. Plank could end up with a nest egg in the bank and be able to hand over more money to help Dire.
Plank stolidly maintains that he could do that by hard work. What Tim was planning was not only illegal, it was dangerous. And besides, what would he say to his Mum and Dad when they visited him in jail?
Tim jokes that Plank could always tell them that it was Tim’s fault.
But seriously, he pleads, this time the thing would be planned properly, and they WOULDN’T go to jail. This job would just be a matter of taking the right chance, going in, getting out and getting away. It would be dead easy, and they would make more than just a few quid.
His last words to Plank are ominous: ‘Trust me.’
(Did anyone else notice that Philip Olivier had not one, but TWO cold sores on his lower lip last night? So he suffers from the herpes-type virus that can cause shingles in adults!)
Back at Hotel Corkhill, Nikki and Buckwheat are still recovering from the shock of Jessie’s news.
£19000 was ALL the company offered? Nikki asks again, in disbelief.
Yes, replies Jess, and reiterates her plan to use the bulk of it to restore the bungalow and then mete out the remainder evenly.
Insurance companies most generally don’t pay out the full whack claimed, Ray informs them. A few years ago, when Kitty’s house was burgled, she only got half the amount she claimed for.
Jessie continues. Anyway, she and Ray had been looking back over their claim. They noticed that £7000 of the claim pertained to items belonging to Buckwheat.
Yes, Buckwheat replies, uneasily, not meeting their eyes, hunching his shoulders and drawing his neck in like a turtle.
Isn’t that a bit much? Jess enquires, quietly ruthless.
Buckwheat assures her that the amount was valid.
Well, the plain fact of the matter, concludes Jessie, is that most of the money HAD to go to repair the house. The four of them would simply have to share the remainder.
Christy is reviewing Leanne’s proposed compensation claim. He studies her unmarked face carefully. (Ever notice what a nice complexion Vicki Gates has?) What Leanne needs for her case, he surmises, is more hard evidence. Why, Leanne doesn’t look like she’s even been in a fight - there are no cuts or bruises.
How does Christy propose that Leanne get such cuts and bruises? She asks.
Christy gives the matter some thought. He could help her out there. He COULD smack her one in the mouth, he offers.
‘And I COULD kick you in the nuts,’ responds Leanne.
Look, Christy points out, he’s only doing this to help Leanne’s claim. And, he advises, she should then go to her own GP and not waste her time with that snot at the Walk-In Centre. Now, he had some serious work to do on Leanne’s face - but not here. It had to be done in the back of the van. It wouldn’t do to have any unwanted witnesses.
Mike Dikko finishes his promised pool game with the two lads and rejoins Bev, proposing that the two share a coffee. Again, he reiterates that he isn’t checking up on her. He muses about losing a half-hour’s pay to the two at the pool table. He eyes them wistfully. Must be nice to have no cares in the world, he muses.
But those two have no future, says Bev, bluntly.
Well, replies Mike, it’s much the same with him.
Behave, says Bev. What’s Mike talking about? He’s got a degree, after all. He could pick and choose a job, or he ought to be able to at any rate. He shouldn’t be slogging away at such a menial job as a security guard.
He’d like to get a better job, says Mike, earnestly, but he works all night and sleeps all day (and when he’s awake, he fritters his time away whingeing and moaning).
Bev gazes sadly around the bar. Well, she admits, she has to say that she gave this bar her best shot. She’ll miss it when she leaves.
Yeah, says Mike, but at the end of the day, it’s just a bar. Bev still has her friends, he reminds her. AND her family - Ron, Mike, Rachel, Jacqui and Max counted for that. They’d look after her and Josh, he promises.
Suddenly, Bev brightens at that thought. Max! Why, Max Farnham could help her out! Perhaps she could ask him to buy her stock for her on his account.
Mike shakes his head. He didn’t mean that sort of help. Anyway, Max was a tight so-and-so. AND Max and Jacqui were partners now, and Bev would do well to remember that Jacqui had never really forgiven Bev for breaking up Ron’s and DD’s marriage. (Funny, I thought Jacqui and Bev had resolved all that ages ago!)
Christy and Leanne sit in the back of Christy’s refrigerated van. Leanne complains that she’s freezing, and she hopes that this idea of Christy’s is worth it.
Just think of the £2 to £3K Leanne stood to gain, Christy says, encouragingly. All it would take was one swift punch from Christy. He draws back his fist to hit Leanne, but she puts up her hand defensively, as his fist approaches her face, stopping him in mid-act.
What was she trying to do? Wails Christy.
Sorry, apologises Leanne. Instinct.
Christy tells her to put her hands down by her sides. He throws a punch again, but Leanne reacts the same way - this time biting Christy.
Again, she apologises. It’s just that she KNOWS that he’s going to punch her, she explains, and she reacts accordingly.
Christy then suggests that Leanne close her eyes. That way, he says, she wouldn’t know when he was about to hit her.
Leanne obliges, but sense when Christy is about to throw a punch, and she jumps out of the way at the last minute. Christy tumbles forward.
‘You MOVED!’ He moans.
Sorry, Leanne apologises again, but she had to stand up. Her bum was getting cold.
Tim is bent over the pool table, arse up, contemplating a shot, when Emily enters the pub and tweaks him on the bum. She makes an arsy comment about decent people working during this time of day, as Plank excuses himself. Before he leaves, however, he compliments the Mekon on her new coat.
Tim wonders why Emily’s there at all. She thought she had a lecture at beauty college today.
Oh, says Emily, nonchalantly, her tutor phoned in sick. So they had to catch up on their paperwork and then were able to leave early.
But isn’t she supposed to report to work after that? Tim asks.
Emily says she stopped by the salon, but the place was empty, so Dire sent her home. (Is it any surprise that this business is failing?)
Plank’s still hanging around, and Tim suggests another game of pool. Plank declines. He’s got a car to work on.
‘Oh,’ sniffs Tim, condescendingly. ‘Dirty hands work.’
At least he GETS his hands dirty, remarks Emily. (Is she having second thoughts now about Tim’s life of crime? Is this a cack-handed attempt by the Brookside writers to soften her image up and try to make us like her. AXE HER. It won’t work!!!)
Tim begins to taunt Plank. And how much did he reckon to make in this afternoon’s work? £25? £30?
Actually, £35, says Plank, saying good-bye.
Emily suggests that she play pool with Tim.
Sammy’s feeling lazy after less than no time in a job. She doesn’t want to go back and is trying to coerce Nisha into taking her blood pressure. (You would have thought that Nisha had better things to do as well). Sammy’s fiddling with the blood pressure cup and Nisha tells her it’s not a toy. Nisha thinks Sammy would do well to return to the Health Centre, but Sammy’s dismissive. Sol would sort out cover for her, she says. She doesn’t want to go back. But ... If Nisha were to take her blood pressure, she’d have a good excuse for being late.
Back at Hotel Corkhill, Nikki and Buckwheat are just beginning to react to Jessie’s proposal of using the bulk of the £19,000 on the bungalow. Nikki reacts like the spoiled brat she is. (In fact, she could almost be a female version of Harry Enfield’s Kevin the Teenager).
‘It’s NOT FAIR!’ She shouts, stomping her foot.
Buckwheat retains his calm, but he points out to the elderly couple that it’s not his and Nikki’s fault that Ray and Jessie were underinsured.
Jessie points out that if they gave Buckwheat the £7000 that he had originally claimed, that would only leave them £12,000 to spend on the house - and that wasn’t nearly enough.
Nikki stamps her foot again. Didn’t Jessie realise that she and Buckwheat had lost everything, EVERYTHING!
Yes, Jessie replies, evenly, and she also realised that that meant the younger couple would literally have to start over from scratch, replacing lost items. But the situation with her and Ray was different.
Nikki and Buckwheat were young. They had their whole lives ahead of them. There would be plenty of time to replace these items.
Buckwheat is having trouble fathoming how to cope with this and asks Nikki to explain to him what this pronouncement means.
‘It means they’re binning us off!’ Shouts the spoiled, overgrown child. ‘They need to keep most of their precious money for the house! It’s really that they’re just too greedy!’
(Why do the words ‘pot’, ‘kettle’ and ‘black’ come to mind here?)
Nisha’s had Sammy recline on the examining table and is now explaining to her how the blood pressure cup works. As she prepares to take Sammy’s blood pressure, Nisha first utters the name ‘Dr Parr’. Hmmm ... Cause for concern, she mutters.
Next she utters the name ‘Sol Bennett’, and promptly removes her stethoscope. Bad news for Sammy, she’s afraid, says Nisha. A look of immediate concern crosses Sammy’s face.
Nisha grins wickedly. ‘You have absolutely NO chance with either of them. Now get back to work!’
Christy is still trying to enhance Leanne’s compensation prospects in the back of the van. Just one more go, he pleads, but Leanne is reluctant.
Look, he picks up two legs of lamb and hands them to Leanne, instructing her to hold one in each hand, down by her side. Leanne complies. Count of three, warns Christy, and it’ll be all over.
He counts and swings. Laden down by the meat, Leanne is unable to react instinctively and he hits her mouth broadside, sending her sprawling in the van.
Now she DOES react, however. Rising suddenly, she grabs one of the legs of lamb and attacks Christy furiously, so furiously that the van begins to sway.
The final shot of this couple is a long shot of the van rocking to and fro as it sits parked in the carpark.
Mike’s finally preparing to leave the bar, as Bev confirms to him that she’s about to leave also to pick Josh up, just in case Mike’s checking on her.
Actually, Mike begins, he was going to ask Bev if HE could pick Josh up today and take him back to Number 8 for his tea. Truth is, he wants to spend more time with his lad.
Bev gushes that Josh would be made oop, as Mike confirms that he wants to make up for all the time he missed with him before.
Bev’s impressed and Mike admits that he missed the boy and wants to get to know him. For a moment, Mike and Bev stand facing each other in front of the bar counter, holding hands. Then suddenly, the bonding moment is over and Mike leaves to collect Josh.
The next scene, after so much good, sinks Brookside knee-deep in poo. It’s a totally gratuitous and extremely close-up shot of Jennifer Ellison’s ample arse, bent over the pool table and clad in black knickers. The wankers inhabiting the nether world must have gorged with delight. It filled the camera lens. It was as if she were offering her arse to us all. It was smutty, pornographic, lewd and totally unnecessary. But why am I not surprised? Phil Redmond belongs to that luvvie world that mistakes filth for sophistication. How many more viewers have to leave, Phil, before you see your mistake?!
Tim makes a suitably double-entendre remark, ‘Nice shot’. Oh, that writer must have thought he really had waxed clever here!
The little would-be whore straightens up and thanks Tim for the ‘gift’ of her coat. Tim’s surprised to find that he even gave her one. Emily explains that she bought the coat off a mate at beauty college. The mate’s boyfriend got them wholesale and she paid £50 for hers. In fact, the bloke makes them to order, and she was getting him to make Nikki one, in an effort to cheer her up.
Emily tells Tim that the mate’s boyfriend manages to make a small fortune flogging this gear. Tim’s ears prick up, thus making him a triple prick! He has his idea for his next heist.
Leanne, with her face bruised and batters, finally stumbles from the back of Christy’s van, a look of accomplished bliss on her face. She slumps down on the pavement and dials 999 on her mobile, requesting an ambulance. The controller must have told her that there was a delay.
‘That’s all right,’ purrs Leanne, like a cat caught with cream on its whiskers, ‘I can wait.’
The Hilton-Shadwick-Buckwheat barney is still in full swing, with Nikki accusing Jessie of punishing her for causing the fire that destroyed the bungalow. Well, as far as Nikki is concerned, that sort of attitude stinks! And there was Jessie, she continues, sounding more and more like a sulky little kid who needs a slap, thinking she was being generous in fobbing them off with a few lousy quid.
She never meant to start that fire. It was all a stupid effort to get Jessie and Ray back together, after Ray’s daughter was inadvertantly tearing them apart. Well, Nikki concludes, it seemed the fire actually did what Nikki set out to do - because Ray and Jessie were certainly side by side now, with ALL their coveted money. And poor Nikki and Buckwheat were the losers in all this and had to cop the blame for the bungalow to boot.
There was only one word to describe her grandmother, Nikki shouts. GREEDY!!!
(Oh, put a sock in it and look in the mirror!)
Arthur Ellison wrote this, which might explain the gratuitous smut.
Summary © 2002 Marion Watts
Brookside and all related materials are © Mersey Television 1982-2002