I have not yet watched the show myself. I base my advice entirely upon this one sentence from James Delingpole’s review in the Spectator:
“… At no stage do you feel as though the plot or characterisation has been skewed to serve up some empowering message about race or gender or sexuality…”
What an astute critique of modern cinema, television, and literature!
For most of our lives, writers with brows high, low and middling have given us, not insights into the human condition, but Sociology lectures dressed up as the stories we crave. They have either presented a world so vile as to make us yearn for the Marxian axe or sunny Star Trekky views of a post-capitalist Utopia.
I left primary school some decades ago, but every time I turn on my TV, go to the cinema or open a modern book I am back there again. Not just when Fiona Bruce on the BBC News reminds me of how I adored my Class 1 teacher neither. I am almost always listening to the sweet, certain tones of schoolmarm condescension talking down to me from the vertiginous height of an undoubted superiority.
It was entirely justified when I was 4 years old. Then, almost everything told me was news and I was naive enough to swallow any guff. But it’s damned infuriating now. If this show offers a holiday from that, then count me in.