eastenddiscourse

[eastenddiscourse]

Ian Goes Bankrupt (23 November 2000)

Time now for another all-time classic. Ian Beale had been spending his life on Albert Square building up a business empire, but this Ian-centric episode sees him scrambling to save it all by raising the cash he needs to avoid bankruptcy.

If any character in any fictional creation, be they in literature, television or film, has been quite so emphatically pathetic as Ian on this day, it would be an impressive feat. He spends much of the episode on the floor.

Everything hangs on him getting a big cheque from the housing association to keep his businesses afloat. Getting ready for his day of reckoning, he’s disturbed by Pat, who he’s mercilessly kicked out, coming to pick up the rest of her stuff.

I’d forgotten all about this incarnation of Steven Beale, who must be the most loathsome smart aleck in the history of all art. He always has something to say, but Ian’s got no time for his shit today.

Amidst his reckless destructive rampage, Ian has also given the nanny, Laura, her marching orders, but needs her to stick around for the day to look after the kids.

Here he is meeting his accountant with his solicitor. The accountant beseeches him to have a backup plan if he doesn���t have his housing development plan accepted, but our Ian’s backing himself to come up with the goods.

12:30: Housing association. They’ve voted to go with another developer, who can offer finished flats at a cheaper price. He’s fucked.

Plan B. Long story short. He runs back to his accountant, who has managed to raise £14,000 by moving his assets about or whatever. He still needs to find another £13,000 before 14:00.

Less than half an hour to raise £13,000, otherwise they seize the businesses, the car, everything he’s got. Laura offers to fetch him £3,700 of her own savings plus change from her building society.

In barges Mark, angry that Ian still owes his mum ��5,000. They all want a piece of him. Laura talks him down and convinces him to get onside. Mark, being the soft touch he is, immediately turns his attentions to helping Ian.

Ian shoves so many women out of his way in this half-hour of television.

Roy and Barry are toasting their new car dealership business, and Ian sees his chance to raise the money. They think there must be something wrong with the fancy motor he’s offering to sell them on the cheap and shrug off his advances.

Into the women’s toilets he goes to find Mel, where he tells Lynne to shut her mouth and get back to the caff when she protests his presence. 

Ex-wife Mel to the rescue. Somehow, he does have a few people trying to help him here – albeit out of total pity.

Mel offers him £2,000, but can only get it tomorrow. She agrees to get him the pub’s takings in the meantime, which amounts to about the same. Still some way to go, but he’s making some progress. Off he goes to find Phil.

Barging past Kat for a second time, here...

Barging past Lisa now... Barge, barge, barge...

No Phil to be found. So he barges into all his businesses to pick up the takings.

Out he stumbles onto the road, and into an oncoming car.

Ian Beale, 00Y.

This is all going terribly.

No time to dwell on being run over. Here he is in the caff, asking for the takings. Kat now just seems to be following him around and berating him like a disgruntled pedestrian on Grand Theft Auto. She’s about to get her third shove.

Mark somehow believes Nick Cotton of all people when he says he has the money for Ian, and they pay him a visit. All he can talk about is his omelette.

It soon transpires he was having them on. Ahahaha.

Ian’s shoving and barging has caught up with him. Charlie confronts him and demands an apology for his daughters.

Pure Macaulay Culkin sarcasm ensues. “I’m really, really, really sorry(!)

“Keep your interfering tarts out of my way.”

That’s quite enough, Ian.

BOSH.

Charlie gets a round of applause for returning Ian to his rightful position: on his arse.

Charlie, you hilarious man.

He finally finds Phil, but is soon reminded how much he hates him. Mel turns up and Phil insists she can’t even give him the pub’s takings. This is getting worse.

On his knees now, begging Phil for help.

Phil’s position is final: no. Their rivalry has been bubbling for years by this point, and Phil’s enjoying every second of Ian’s downfall.

Accountant here now to pick Ian up for the bankruptcy hearing. Time’s up. Get in, you daft prat.

His children look on with confusion over how their dad can be such a ridiculous loser.

Laura runs up to the window, and declares her love for him out of nowhere!

He doesn’t respond. Time to take in his empire to sorrowful piano music, which is quite a rare creative choice for EastEnders.

Just take it all in, Ian. The caff, gone.

The chippy.

Gone.

Your funny little shop.

Gone.

Game over.

[eastenddiscourse]

You Ain't My Mother! (1 October 2001)

And so we come to the episode containing the moment many revere as the best in soap history.

Lynne Slater is set to marry a very complicated man called Garry Hobbs. We will further explore his tortured existence on another occasion, but tonight he’s very much the sideshow to probably EastEnders’ best ever hen do.

The Slater sisters head to the curry house, fronted by Big Mo, telling Little Mo here she doesn’t get out much if she’s excited about going to a restaurant. She’s got a point. It is a bit tame.

They walk past the Vic, which is anything but tame. Garry spends his entire stag do convulsing through layer upon layer of self-parody.

Pat, Little Mo, Kat, Zoe, Sharon, Lynne, Peggy, Dot. Natalie and Lisa making up the numbers. Not really much more you could ask for. You’re looking at a star-studded line-up.

Dot steals this episode for me. Full of one-liners throughout. She kicks things off with “What’s an aloo gobby?” before plumping for a vindaloo.

“Might have to put your loo rolls in the fridge, though, Dot!” – Kat Slater, GOAT.

Things get a bit tense when Kat questions Zoe ordering alcohol.

Back to the pub. Charlie is painfully aware what a mess his daughter’s marrying, and challenges his commitment through a novel game.

She looks how I feel.

“That is a button. If you press that, Lynne will disappear. She won’t be hurt. She won’t think bad of you. She just won’t be there anymore. The question is, would you press that or not. If you would, then marrying her is the biggest mistake you’ll ever make.”

Worth a try, eh, Charlie.

Pat owns having had her fair share of men.

Of course, Peggy’s right back in there with “Yours or other people’s?”

Och.

Come on. Let’s keep it friendly. Natalie, tell us about how Barry sticks his neck out when he talks.

LOL.

And Lynne, tell us about how Garry’s always looking over his shoulder.

Pat says all men have their little foibles. “Little what?!”

Ah, they’re all getting on famously now.

Pat, tell us about how Roy plays with his tie when he gets frisky.

Yeah, maybe not, actually. Don’t bear thinking about.

This is a festival of soap icons reciting all the ‘men, eh’ cliches in the book. Sharon’s of course the reigning champ at this and chips in with the winning effort.

“Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em!” Oh, Shaz.

Uh oh, not these two again. Kat’s going all soppy and freaking Zoe out.

“She’s slobbering all over me again.”

“Oh, get stuffed, Zo.”

Professional tension diffuser Peg is straight on the case and asks when the mysterious additional Slater sister is arriving.

And here she is. Must be a fan of the show, coming dressed as the world’s fave landlady.

My favourite moment of the ep was Phil, more open to having some fun with the lads back in these days, loosening up enough to say something like “Trace?

“Feed the jukebox, babe, will ya?”

Stripper’s arrived.

Never seen so much delight on these people’s faces.

Lads, lads, lads. Cos these three always hang out. Not!

OMG, tits!

Yes, back to the hen do, I think.

Kat’s not happy Belinda’s there. Belinda, just to recap for anyone less clued up on the rarest Slater sister, is a Two-Dimensional Snooty Cow.

Oh, no, Garry, mate. Don’t proposition the stripper for a quick shag, FFS.

Lynne deserves better, the oblivious angel.

Seeing Pat happy is the single greatest pleasure of my life, TBH.

Belinda’s wig’s come off.

Off it comes, that’s it. Who needs strippers?

Just push the button, ya daft prick!

Belinda has now transformed into Humbled Two-Dimensional Snooty Cow and is pushing for that third dimension by opening up about how shit her life actually is.

A game of truth or dare unearths a gem of a story from Dot, as she reveals she once kissed another man back in 1953, whilst she was with her first husband-to-be Charlie, on the day Dylan Thomas died. It’s a fucking beautiful bit of writing, and, obviously, acting. June Brown will go to her grave without a Bafta to her name, and that makes me feel physically sick.

She recites a poem she heard on the radio the next day. The man she kissed never came back for her. Wistful AF.

“Under the mile high moon we trembled listening To the sea sound flowing like blood from the loud wound And the salt sheet when it broke like a storm of singing The voices of all the drowned swam on the wind”

Garry, just marry the girl.

Good lad.

Right, shall we get to what we’re all here for?

That’s such good shit.

You see, most of us claim to be above EastEnders. But we all know this clip like the back of our hand, don’t we. Scientists, surgeons, professors, whatever. When it comes down to it, we’re all just people who either freely celebrate or lie about not knowing of this enthralling moment of world-class drama.

[eastenddiscourse]

Ian Beale Origins (7 August 1990)

You’re not just born like him. Something has to trigger it.

Well, I think I’ve found the exact moment Mr Nice Beale develops that streak of his. His transformation into someone who’s mean-spirited at best, and vindictive at worst. Into a selfish, disillusioned bastard with a burning distrust of all women. Into Bad Beale.

The change can be pinpointed. It comes when Cindy tells him Steven isn’t his, which he double-checks with her at the start of the episode in case anyone missed the last one. (I was about four days old when this aired, so I’m very much going at this with fresh eyes.)

Kathy’s on hand to take Steven from Cindy and he viciously shoves her into his van.

You can imagine the kind of questions being asked here. He’s saying what a mug she’s made of him, before getting worked up and calling her a slag and shoving her back out of the van.

Out you get, that’s it.

Cindy calls Wicksy, who is meant to be Ian’s best mate. He, of course, is Steven’s father.

Wicksy is very much EastEnders’ original lothario.

A bit of Maxi Priest playing in the Vic, providing a nice soundtrack to Phil, Pete and Grant discussing their concerns over new pub landlord Eddie Royle’s ex-copper status.

Eddie can’t be that bad. He’s let Wicksy go and see Cindy.

Cindy’s worried about how Ian drove off. She goes, “I've never seen him like that before. he's so good natured.” Shall we see how he’s getting on?

Young Ian looks a bit like a clean-shaven David de Gea. Got that baby llama look about him.

Jesus. He wouldn’t, would he?

This is why you should always wear a seatbelt.

Fuckin’ ell.

He’s not taken this well.

Back at the pub, and there’s a nod towards Pete having some telepathic bullshit for his son’s peril.

Ian’s promptly strapped in and loaded into an ambulance. You know he’s going to be fine, and the paramedics handle him as if they’re in on the immortal nature of main characters. EastEnders’ Homer.

Hi, are you Mrs Cindy Beale? Yeah, er, your husband’s actually made an attempt on his life because you’ve ruined it?

Wicksy’s over at Michelle’s, who seems to have been in on the secret. He reminds her she’s fucked up a few times herself and that minimises her scorn considerably.

Kathy took a break from her Saved By the Bell audition to sit with Cindy and Pete at the hospital.

~ Will Ian make it? ~

Lots of technical equipment close-ups in this ep. Not sure whether this is all new in 1990 or something and they’re trying to show it off, but it seems gratuitous.

Poor bugger.

What the hell is this? Sharon’s birth mother?!

I smelt another future retcon, but nope, Carol Hanley (who looks even more like Roly than her) is truly Sharon’s real mother.

Carol’s alarmingly wary of bonding with Sharon, who just needs a friend. But, nah. Not interested. You don’t need her anyway, Shaz. 

Icon.

Wicksy’s in Cindy’s ear, telling her he loves her and their son, and wants them to all be together. All the while he’s still dressed like fucking Annie Hall.

Cindy takes Steven back to the hospital to visit Ian. Must care a bit, mustn’t she. Wake up, mate.

Chin up, Cindy! He goes on to comfortably outlive you and your shitty son.

Come on, Ian, just open your eyes, eh?

There he is. You big drama queen!

But the man who opens his eyes is changed forever. His dream of a perfect, tidy life is tainted, and the metamorphosis into the Ian Beale we have to this day is complete. Give ’em hell!

[eastenddiscourse]

The Jackson Paternities (6 March 1995)

A pivotal sub-genre of EastEnders’ portfolio is the night-time episode. This 1995 instalment is a rare example of one that doesn’t feature a variation of the phrase “I couldn’t sleep either”/”You couldn’t sleep either?”, but plenty of the old hallmarks are still at play. These include beverages at the kitchen table, eyebrow-raising jammies and constant references to how late it is.

We kick off with Bianca storming out of Deals on Wheels, as David Wicks has just had to reveal he’s her father to stop her trying to shag him.

It’s taking a moment to sink in, and she decides to storm in and wake up her mum to see what she has to say.

The only distraction from a half-hour masterpiece in realism Mike Leigh would be proud of is Michelle mulling over Geoff here’s marriage proposal.

Her former-Uni-tutor-turned-lover wants her to come with him to Scotland, where he’s been offered a role as Chair in Modern History at Dumbarton University. Stop it Geoff, I’m getting hard.

Bianca’s dragged David to the Jackson household, much to Alan here’s chagrin. He goes to get Carol, and she gives it the sweet and innocent act for about two seconds.

Her first attempt to eject David fails, as Alan tells them all to get in the lounge and address the situation.

Alan’s really taking matters into his own hands here. He confirms to Bianca that David is her dad.

Not a very funny ep, this, BTW.

Robbie and Sonia are up now too. He fills his sister in on the news.

“David Wicks? That's sad.” Great stuff from Sonia.

Another outburst from Carol, who finally succeeds in getting David to piss off home.

Robbie undermines a night of revelations by wearing a Mr Messy top for the duration.

More of this moving about from kitchen to lounge to kitchen again is to come, but in this instance Carol raids the fridge for a beer and some respite with a very jaded Blossom, who doesn’t pretend she hasn’t been earwigging.

Back in the lounge now, and Robbie is pressuring Carol to tell her who his dad is. Sonia, starting early at being a tedious fucking saint, says she doesn’t care who her’s is, as Alan’s enough for her. That’s her back off to bed.

Everyone back in the kitchen now, and even Billie’s woken up. Blossom dispatches him straight back to his room. Gives her something to do.

Meanwhile, Michelle asks Mark what he reckons to the idea of her getting wed to a man 30 years her senior and leaving for Scotland. This storyline is so bland I start fantasising about Mark sliding out the room and back in with her suitcases.

Where are we now? Right, back in the lounge. She can’t escape filling her kids in on her past any longer. So: Bianca is David’s daughter. He never knew until recently.

Robbie’s dad is a man called Gary Bolton, who apparently just about looked after Carol financially but is also casually revealed to have been a paedophile.*

And Sonia’s dad is a man called Terry Cant. There was no such thing as him after he got bored of knocking Carol about and left with whatever he could steal.

* I checked this up. Robbie’s dad’s noncey backstory is retconned in 2001, when Robbie finally meets him.

A single tear falls from Bianca’s eye. Yeah, that’s right, your mum’s had it tough, so can we all just give her a fucking break?

Who remembers Ruth?! Her and Blossom tickle away at my nostalgia quota this ep, but both prove to be as peripheral as I remembered them. Ruth thinks Scotland’s too far from home for Michelle.

I really couldn’t care less either way what Michelle chooses to do. I check on Wikipedia nonetheless. The relationship disintegrates but Geoff gets her a job in America, and that’s the story of her until her pitiful modern-day recast.

What a nothing character Michelle is. Riding on the coat-tails of being an original cast member and Fowler daughter; defined only by the most erratic taste in men in the soap’s history.

Back at the Jacksons’. We’re on the stairs for this bit. Robbie tells Carol all that matters is that she’s his mum. Good lad.

So that’s that. A gruelling night emotionally for the one and only Carol Jackson. Everyone finally knows who their dad is and accepts she had her reasons for muddling through without telling them sooner.

Oh, but wait. Bianca’s still got a chip on her shoulder. She sits herself back in the kitchen to have another dig at her mum. Now she’s accusing Carol of pretending she’s completely innocent in creating what can only be described as one of soap’s muckiest paternal quagmires.

That is some clock.

Listen. Know when to go to bed, Bianca. Blaming Carol for not giving her a better life or ever knowing her dad, blah, blah, blah.

She’s put straight back in her place.

And I’m just in awe of Carol’s face, working through all its exhilarating gears of rage.

Bianca: “You’ve never put a foot wrong, it’s never your fault (!)”

Carol: "Oh, I messed up once. I messed up having you! I should never have bothered – life would've been a lot happier for us all!"

Yeah, that was a bit heavy, actually, Carol.

The classic ‘regret what you’ve said a nanosecond later’ face.

One of the realest eps I’ve ever seen, with the realest woman to have ever set foot in Albert Square at its centre. Absolutely everything a kitchen sink drama fanboy could ever need.

[eastenddiscourse]

The Mitchell Showdown (14 October 1999)

No struggle to get my bearings in this one, as the episode handily starts with a reflective Phil staring out over the Thames soundtracked with a voiceover from a previous episode, where Kathy tells him she’s slept with Grant. Delicious spoon-fed bearings.

See, I’m personally a stickler for realism. However, as I’m taking eps on without the context of their surrounding instalments and reviewing them as individual short films, I welcome this unusual-for-EastEnders storytelling device.

Where does it end after using such gimmicks in soaps, though? At least there’s no cheery ‘Last time on EastEnders’ intro from Steve McFadden.

As you can see, Phil’s a wreck. But him and his little bro will today intercept the money exchanged in some drug deal they’re privy to. His head’s all over the place.

Grant, in very short shorts (not pictured as I’ve seen enough of his arse and he’s lost it a bit since ’97), is in high spirits. Courtney is learning one of the benefits of being fathered by the Honey Monster is eternal breakfast assistance.

Peggy asks Grant if they can bury some kind of hatchet. He’s not got much time for that at all.

Time for a bit of gun practice.

Imagine being shot by a massive pink McCain Potato Smile. 

But some tough geezers in a car blaring out Backstreet Boys have told Billy the goons Phil and Grant are expecting to ambush have been taken off the job, and replaced by some seriously dangerous pros.

Cue Billy’s dash around town to get ahold of his cousins.

I have no idea what Jamie is talking to Grant about here. Couldn’t hear a thing over “Je t’aime… moi non plus” playing at full volume through the corridors of my mind.

Imagine being nine years old and jealous of Sonia Jackson. This was once my reality.

Grant’s got his gloves on. What’s Steve want?

Not now, mate.

Have a bit of that.

Billy’s made it to the pub, but Grant’s left. He tells Sam they need to find some muscle to help them fast.

Phil is sort of begrudgingly on this job with Grant. Mind’s elsewhere. Gonna snap any moment, look.

Beppe?! What’s he gonna do, shag them to safety?

So here’s a glimpse of these animals Phil and Grant are unaware they’ll be faced with. A Billy voiceover describes their deadly reputation and I gulp more than once in this time period.

Phil snaps.

But the men have arrived. Phil’s like ‘let’s fucking do this then’. Grant’s like ‘bloody ‘ell hold your horses’...

POW.

Grant catches up and chips in. The three danger men are taken out with no complications in an extremely short space of time.

Make sure it’s all there, Grant.

Call yourself a tough guy? 19.5 million people watching. State of you.

Seriously pathetic.

They’re off. Grant hits a police car as well as this automatic rising arm barrier on the way out (Beppe called the police, FFS).

Poor man’s Jack Branning, look.

Take a moment to think about all the tosh inside that dome in October 1999, patiently waiting to be unleashed on its gormless public.

They make it to safety – for now. The highlight for me is Phil throwing a tyre at his brother in amongst his stop-start eruptions that punctuate the episode. A lighter moment between a lot of gun waggling. But that doesn’t make the cut for the clip deemed fit for YouTube. And that’s why I do these for you.

I’ll say it again. What a show we have on our hands here. And I’ll tell you what, David Lynch is lucky nobody’s caught him ripping it off. 

“GRAAAAAAAANNNT!”

EastEnders will go on to attempt this sort of episode time and time again, but the standard has been set unfairly high. The Mitchell Brothers’ magnum opus.

[eastenddiscourse]

The Fowlers in Southend (2 January 1986)

Part of EastEnders’ allure for me is its longstanding love affair with my very own hometown, Southend-on-Sea. To this day, a blessed handful of characters at a time have been known to take a trip to the seaside haven where I was raised. Indeed, my dad once running into Fatboy during filming remains a proud family moment.

But long, long before I was hurling my guts up outside Electric Avenue arcade or getting mugged on Pier Hill, Michelle Fowler and parents Arthur and Pauline rocked up here at the start of a new year, in search of runaway brother Mark.

If you don’t have someone’s number or address but want to find them, you should try looking out over a road and shouting the person’s name.

“Mark?!”

Oh, there he is over there in a completely empty Peter Pan’s Playground working on the go-karts. That gets the ep moving nicely.

No, it’s not the Todd Carty incarnation you were hoping for. He’d be on skates. This one bizarrely looks even more like Stewart Lee.

Anyway, out of nowhere pops an older woman, Ingrid, and two kids who seem to have taken first-gen Mark as their new dad. 

Meanwhile, back in Walford, Den merrily makes his way through a messy Queen Vic after what presumably turned into a big one last night.

“Happy New Year, petal.”

“Oh, Den.” “Not a pretty sight, Roly.”

Quite a theme emerging of men who occupy the Vic being unforgivable pigs to their wives.

What do we have here then? Sharon, Kelvin (know all about him now after another trip to Wikipedia), Ian and young Roly can’t afford to go out.

And Kelvin’s dad Tony here is sweetly seeing if young Cassie fancies pissing off to live with her mum. She’s going to think about it.

Meet the parents time for Ingrid in Southend. Full-time prat Arthur asks her “do you come here often” and they all rightly laugh in his face.

It’s not long before Pauline’s giving Ingrid a closer look. Seeing what she wants from her son. Bit obvious.

Ingrid sounds a bit like the woman who sings in that flying Lizzards Song, “Money”.

Next thing you know, she’s watching on with Arthur as Mark and Michelle catch up on the sand.

Some local knowledge: I’ve eaten in The Three Shells cafe in the background there more times than I care to mention. As a child, I would line up my Kinder Egg toys along the windowsill seen just behind Pauline’s head and chomp away on Southend’s finest hotdogs. It’s under new ownership now and has lost its 80s/90s charm. Last time I checked, they charge 10p for a sachet of ketchup.

Arthur asks Pauline if things would’ve turned out better if they were stricter parents, and she fires back an old saying of her mum’s: “If ifs and ands were pots and pans, there’d be no need of tinkers.”

That’s you shut up again, Arthur, thank fuck.

Arthur’s actually a bit more likeable in this ep, to give credit where it’s due.

Kelvin’s taken pity on Ian and Shazza and brought them back to his. Even his little sister is giving it to Ian for having no rhythm as they dance about to this 80s jam I’ve only now discovered.

Ian’s never afraid to give it back, though.

He begins to get the hang of it.

Before the dad walks in.

LOL.

*TEARS OF LAUGHTER EMOJIS*

Back to Southend now for a denouement of the ages. The Fowlers are happy they’ve visited Mark and seem satisfied he’s doing alright (albeit in unmarried sin with an absolute cougar).

Pauline wants a quick word with her boy alone before they head off. Get your hankies ready.

I don’t think many Julia’s Themes are as worthy as this one coming up. They don’t do sentimental scenes quite like this one anymore.

Look at the room this scene’s given to breathe – how Wendy Richard’s own vulnerability pours out into the delivery of each heartfelt line. I’m trembling.

This is some show when it wants to be.

[eastenddiscourse]

Frank and Pat’s Wedding (22 June 1989)

Lots of episodes. It’s hard to know which one to tackle next.

But I know I want a happy one, and from the various UKTV Gold highlights packages I’ve seen over the years, Frank and Pat’s classic cockney knees-up wedding day has always struck me as likely the most joyous instalment going.

Some housekeeping before we start enjoying ourselves: I didn’t have a clue about this mysterious eldest daughter Frank has, but here she stands. Clare’s a total footnote aside from the fact she’s arrived with Frank’s youngest daughter Janine, who has been living with her, for their dad’s big day.

This ep will be my first proper glimpse of Dot’s original husband. What a life I lead. Not heard good things about him, mind.

Wicksy’s on a mission to find a last-minute replacement for Frank’s made-up best man who has the shingles or something. Who’d pick this mug, though?

Here she comes...

Words fail me. I’m blown away by Pat more than ever before.

Off they go to get wed, which we see fuck all of. Today’s all about the party. Mo here’s Frank’s mum. Way before Big and Little Mo traipsed the neighbourhood, we had Plain Original. Get a load of her:

She blows the whistle to signal the return of Walford’s new king and queen. She’s put a lot of effort in for an old girl. Doesn’t go unappreciated, either.

Here we fucking go:

I’m euphoric. This must be the most glorious day Albert Square has ever seen. It seems a bit lost on forlorn Kathy, though. Pete’s somehow never been good enough for her despite being a complete don.

That one with the silly hat on is Marge. Never heard of Marge in my life. Worth a Wiki. She was good value in this ep. A real Jean Slater of her time.

Charlie seems absolutely harmless. All I’ve ever heard from talk of him in modern eps is what a cunt he was. He’s no less palatable than a loveable Jim Branning in Bodger off Bodger and Badger’s clothing.

Ricky’s narrative arc for his dad’s wedding day is called Getting Shitfaced.

Wonder how Cindy’s spending her day? Let me guess. Badmouthing her future husband?

“Ian Beale is to Walford what Thomas the Tank Engine is to National Rail.”

Oh, get fucked.

Arthur does a speech that nobody has time for, because as I’m learning with every random heritage ep I watch, he’s a good for nothing sack of shit who rarely moves from those railings.

Ethel’s song and dance is the bit I’d seen before on UKTV Gold clips and the like over the years. It is, in my opinion, the unalloyed giddy apex of EastEnders’ history...

Until...

A duet of “When I Fall in Love” by Sharon and Frank? Fuck me.

It’s all too much for me, and it’s all too much for Ethel. She’s crying because “everyone’s so happy”. Truly perfect scenes. I could die to this.

Without so much as blinking, Marge snaps us out of IMHO the most poignant moment in British television history to reveal to Ethel she’s a virgin.

Later this year, The Simpsons comes along with its own blue-topped Marge and this one becomes a deeply buried pop-cultural fossil. Ne’er been shagged.

Just look at them. Spectacular.

Can someone put a bowl of water down for Sharon...

So that’s about it. If ever you want to be cheered up, hunt this ep down and hook it up to your bloodstream. It’s everything I hoped for and more.

And Daddy’s little princess is there to share it with him. How about Clare moves to Manchester and leaves Janine with you now you’re settled?

*RECORD SCRATCH*

Classic Frank.

Devastated.

[eastenddiscourse]

Always Start Christmas Day with a Sherry (25 December 1997)

This is as good an episode to kick off with as any, as it tantalisingly predates the era of EastEnders I can actually remember well. If it was on in my household on Christmas Day 1997, I was oblivious to it.

What’s more, nothing that happens triggers any memories of this festive instalment, which isn’t surprising as it plays out with virtually no drama. On this day, Albert Square acts as sort of a hazy, drowsy limbo for a knowing prequel to the spectacular golden era lurking around the corner.

The first big shock I get from this episode is Snow White herself, who goes in extremely hard on Aunt Sal, still only finding her feet as the absolute guest-starring behemoth she’d go on to become.

Aunt Sal, plonked upstairs in the kitchen of the Vic, recites her former husband’s old saying: “Always start Christmas Day with a sherry.”

Tiffany for some reason just wrecks her by asking what his new phrase is now he’s with a new woman.

So needlessly harsh. And Sal, at this point in her character’s evolution, is reasonably pleasant.

Hurt but undeterred, she moves on fast.

It’s not the variety of sherry she’s used to.

Nevermind, Sal. You go on to get fucking blotto, continue to punctuate the Mitchells’ yuletide celebrations for decades, and Tiff over there will be in the ground just over a year from now.

I always thought Terry and Irene arrived in Walford as a fully fledged couple, but behold them falling in love before our eyes. He claims he knows it’s love as she bought him some booze. Very boozy ep, this.

Oh, and Roy’s had a heart attack. Not the one that eventually kills him, though. Still time for Pat to fully break it before it totally gives out altogether.

Remember Nigel? Well here he is – set to adapt a fatty Christmas meal to something that makes him less of a candidate for a similar fate to Roy’s.

Some bullshit Oirish relative of the Fowlers can be seen here introducing himself to a charmed Dot.

Tiff is on a rampage to wind Grant up. Her flirting with other men is intercut with increasingly seething psycho expressions from the lesser spotted Mitchell brother.

Frank takes his chance under the mistletoe, and Tiff’s more than up for it. He can’t leave her alone all ep, actually.

Terry and Irene are now in a relationship.

Naff little sideshow alert: A few of the households have bought dodgy tree toppers from the market that burst into flames. This leads to no peril for any characters at all and isn’t mentioned again.

But look who ran the stall. Matthew pre getting his life ruined by Steve. I don’t know if I vaguely remember his dad in the background there, or if I’m getting him mixed up with Nick Hancock.

The dripping embarrassment of riches at 1997 EastEnders’ disposal allows for red-headed legends Phil and Bianca to take the whole ep off as extravagant extras.

Might as well, eh, Aunt Sal.

Cindy ruins the Beales and Fowlers’ day by turning up to see her kids, and can be seen here as Ian expedites her fucking back off.

He’s had his fun with Tiff, so Frank pays Pat a visit. I think they were being a bit naughty just before Roy’s heart attack as far as I can make out. The obvious chemistry is here, but Pat manages to see him off without snogging him.

Aforementioned Oirish character flirts with Tiff at the bar. Grant’s finally had enough. He suggests she starts “acting like a wife”.

This other thing’s been going on with Kathy helping the homeless with this vicar, who she ends up snogging. This is your lot in terms of a big Christmas cliffhanger.

Mad to think Peggy and Pauline are just peripheral matriarchs in all this nonsense. A majorly tame episode by anyone’s standards, but 10/10 for filling in a bunch of blanks for what, at seven years old, was a fledgling awareness of the greatest show on Earth.