Welcome to another semi-regular Guide mailbag issue, in which we answer your burning cultural questions – thanks to everyone who sent one in! This week: the politics of band tees, where to get your trashy legal drama fix, and the state of “state of the nation” dramas.
Where is the next big state of the nation drama coming from? Our Friends in the North was released the year before New Labour came to power – can we expect something similar analysing the austerity years? Or, in the competitive streaming age, is even the BBC limited to addressing these issues obliquely in crime dramas like Sherwood and Happy Valley? – Richard Hamilton
Well-timed question, Richard, what with Sherwood returning in a few weeks. Sherwood is an interesting one: I think you could make a case that it is a state of the nation drama – using a specific character or story (in this case a divided former mining town in the so-called “red wall”) to serve as a microcosm for modern Britain. But at the same time it explores issues familiar to its creator, Nottingham-born playwright James Graham, that don’t tidily stand in for the nation as a whole – the complicated role the miner’s strikes played in the region, and, in this upcoming second series, the gun crime the city experienced at the turn of the millennium. And as you point out, its heavy detective drama elements take it outside the true state of the nation drama too.
Instead, what most of us summon up when we think of state of the nation dramas is something big and sprawling, keen to explain the country’s disposition and diagnose its problems. Our Friends in the North, spanning decades and governments, definitely fits that description. Those full-fat state of the nation dramas are pretty much absent from our screens these days. ITV’s focus is crime procedurals and the sort of Mr Bates-style miscarriage of justice dramas that, while important, don’t neatly fit the term; Channel 4 aren’t really in a position to bankroll too much ambitious drama; Sky are more interested in international co-productions; and the streamers understandably prioritise broader, more easily packageable genre fare.
Which leaves the BBC. Interestingly its new head of drama, Lindsay Salt, spoke recently about wanting to “redefine” the state of the nation drama. Instead of “shows that are earnest or overloaded with messages” she wants “stories that are honest and emotional, revealing and messy … [reflecting] something different to different age groups and communities”. Salt did cite Our Friends in the North as a great state of the nation drama, but also pointed to I May Destroy You, a deeply personal series that I never would have thought to categorise as state of the nation. But maybe that’s the point: Britain in 2024 is too diffuse and diverse, containing too many interlocking, often contradicting stories, to be neatly exemplified in one sweeping state of the nation drama.
Is it acceptable to wear a band’s T-shirt to a gig where that band is playing, or a humiliating faux pas? Asking for a friend! – Alice M
Alice, for a long time the default answer would have been no: when I first started going to gigs as a teenager there was nothing less cool than wearing the band’s T-shirt to the band’s gig. But I definitely think there has been a mood change: I see loads more people wearing a band or artist’s T-shirts to that band or artist’s gig – and even going further by dressing up as the band or artist themselves, as lots of people will be doing in London this week for Taylor Swift’s Eras tour. Maybe this has something to do with the triumph of poptimism: the old male indie gatekeepers have been supplanted and so have their rigid rules about what music you’re allowed to like, how you should behave at a gig, and what you should wear at one too.
With all that acknowledged, umm, can I very quietly make an argument for not wearing the band’s T-shirt to the band’s gig? For one, it’s a pretty redundant gesture: you’re at the gig already, with other people who have come to see the same band – you’re not really making much of a statement. Also, most bands only have a finite amount of T-shirt designs so it’s fairly likely you’re going to look the same as a lot of other people at the gig (unless you’re wearing a T-shirt of the band that you have designed yourself – which harks back to the early days of pop music fandom, before bands sold their own merch and fans went DIY instead).
Instead, what about the old classic of wearing another band’s T-shirt to the gig? Yes, it might come off as a bit smug, like you’re too cool to wear the T-shirt everyone else is wearing. But more charitably it’s a nice way to signpost your tastes and redirect people to new stuff: on more than one occasion I’ve discovered a great new band simply by seeing their name on someone’s shirt at another band’s show. And I love it when I see someone wearing a completely jarring T-shirt at a gig – Slipknot at a Sugababes concert (pictured above) or vice versa – which sort of sums up the omnivorous attitude people have towards music these days.
But yes, short answer: wear the band’s T-shirt to the band’s gig – no one cares (except, it seems, me).
I’ve torn through all eight episodes of Presumed Innocent on Apple TV+ and now I’m hungry for trashy legal dramas. Can you recommend a film that scratches that itch please? – Jordan Smith
Jordan, there are few film genres more enjoyable when done right than the courtroom drama, and it’s a shame that Hollywood produces so few these days. Although perhaps that’s changing, what with Presumed Innocent and Clint Eastwood’s upcoming Juror No 2 (“A juror serving on a murder trial realises he may be at fault for the victim’s death” – oh I am very much in).
Anyway, if you were looking for something to scratch the same itch as Presumed Innocent, the most obvious candidate would be … Presumed Innocent, the 1990 Alan Pakula film based on the same novel. But for something that doesn’t share the exact same premise, but definitely the same vibe, I’d plump for Primal Fear (pictured above). Richard Gere stars as a full-of-himself Chicago defence attorney who takes on the case of an altar boy (Edward Norton) accused of murdering a Catholic priest. It has a belting supporting cast (Laura Linney, Andre Braugher, Frances McDormand, John “Marty Crane” Mahoney), features a brilliant, star-making performance from Norton, and just about stays the right side of preposterous – while being, at times, quite daft.
Enjoy!
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