Skins Season Two

From the TWU archive vortex; first published in 2008.

Skins became one of 2007’s television talking points, surrounded by controversy, some manufactured, most of it based on inaccurate assumptions but it became a series television heads had an opinion about. The arguments ran roughly thus: it was a groundbreaking show that showed teen life today as it really is or it was pretentious, patronising and anyway teens didn’t watch, they preferred Hollydale. The truth probably lay somewhere in the middle - Skins’s first season, for all the fuss, was actually quite traditionally morally grounded and extremely well made with exactly the same care you’d expect from a period drama which in a way it is! Just that the period is this decade. Anecdotally teens do watch it in as much as teens watch any telly at all. The idea that it showed urban life as it is today is of course nonsense; no television programme ever could, but it could be said to show what life is like for a mixed bunch of Bristol based teens at least. And compared to the one note teen characters soap operas seem to offer, it is at least an attempt to identify to some extent with what is going on, particularly as most of the writers of the series are only in their 20s. Anyway, the problem with being a talking point is that expectations are ramped up for what comes next and this can affect the programme makers themselves. In other words, it’s the Difficult Second Series Syndrome. How do you top what’s made you a talking point in the first place?

Opening with a stained glass window, booming church organ fanfare and two minute long dance sequence featuring a visibly toned up Maxxie, season 2 begins as theatre. Anyone can do wobbly camera shot profanity but this is something quite unexpected and provides a visual motif that the first episode maintains. We constantly see Maxxie dancing, jumping, running, even having sex whereas Tony is doing none of these things. It’s as if the programme is contrasting the freedom Tony no longer has with what he could have. The two characters are pretty dominant during this episode and its hard not to be reminded of the first series opening which revolved around Tony’s cocksure, busy social whirl. Now, after his collision with a bus at the end of season 1, he has memory troubles, shuffles like a zombie and can’t even write his name. He even forgets where he lives though there are moments where actor Nicholas Hoult gives a little grin as Tony does recall something. Clearly the season will show his return to some sort of normality and this probably explains why Nicholas Hoult, the only experienced actor of the main cast, was given this role. It’s never overplayed but it elicits our sympathy even if we remember the heartless self interested prick he was before. Hoult’s dead eyed stare and disinterested demeanour is played off by Maxxie’s energetic plot. Mitch Hewer wasn’t given a lot to do in series 1 beyond being everybody’s chirpy best mate and while his acting is best described as fresh and he appears to have turned orange, his dancing is brilliant and the character gets some work to do as well, on the receiving end of both homophobia and lust as well as some clashes with his father. The latter aspect was rendered slightly unbelievable due to the casting of Bill Bailey as his Dad and some clumsy writing. Or, perhaps the inarticulacy is deliberate? We see snippets of the others and know that Sid is still pining for Cassie,  Michelle is living a hedonistic lifestyle and Anwar is as silly as ever- his introduction is a classic moment. There are twinges of second series syndrome but its interesting that when the action cuts to another rave- all dervish cameras and colours- it feels forced and out of place amongst the rest of the plot and that is a sign of moving on. 

That said, every series is entitled to an occasional mis-fire and episode 2 certainly fulfils that criteria. It’s hard to know  what’s less believable- the actions of the scary girl stalking Maxxie or the school musical around which the action circles. Either scenario could have been funny but somehow neither works. The girl Sketch is, unusually for the series, a caricature and the idea that she could get up to all she does is absurd. In trying to present her obsession as a means of escape from the drudgery of a life in a small flat looking after her invalid mother, writer Jack Thorne never leaves first base; it’s all been done before, actually it was done far better on Grange Hill in the 90s. As for the musical `Osama`, well perhaps the intention is to spoof the well meaning school drama production and maybe poke a bit of fun at American ideals along the way but it’s too thin to be satire and ends up as the worst compromise for anything artistic- just a bit boring. 

On the other hand, the reason for watching any series is the expectation of golden moments and episode 3 is a shining gem, reminding you that at its best Skins is the best programme on at this moment. It’s about Sid’s family, whom could easily be labelled dysfunctional yet they seem an extreme version of a lot of families, riven with hopes, disappointments and no real communication. Sid’s tough Scots grandfather Alex – all sharp powder blue pinstripes – and clan arrive and they are all sitting round the table when he asks Sid’s Dad “How’s the job?” to which the latter replies “Interesting.” There’s a moment’s silence and Alex asks “What is it you do?” This disconnect is the driver for a claustrophobic cohabitation that highlights how awkward family gatherings can be, how the wrong things are said and how people just try to show off like it’s a competition. The ensemble are note perfect; from Maurice Roeve’s Alex gruff boiler house bullying to Josie Laurence as Sid’s mother who is so practical in life except when it comes to romantic entanglements. Yet it’s Peter Capaldi’s episode – few actors swear as wonderfully as him-  as he rants at the hoover, tries to persuade his estranged wife to stay and, finally, in a moment of triumph asserts himself to the good, dispensing advice and throwing the assembled throng out! We then see him with a whisky in one hand, a cigarette in the other humming to himself, happy for once. The next day Sid finds him dead in the same chair.

Mike Bailey’s Sid has consistently been the most likeable of the main cast, his everyman status and the fact that he seems to have even less control over his life than most people make you root for him. He’s always at everyone’s beck and call, underlined early on in this episode when Anwar persuades him to let him and new girlfriend Sketch to use Sid’s room because “sex hasn’t been invented in my house”. Bailey’s brilliant here; his demeanour long suffering yet always willing to accept things and move on. After his father’s death Sid goes to college because he can’t think of anything else to do and eventually there’s a cathartic reunion with Tony in the middle of a noisy Crystal Castles gig. This scene is astonishing television, turning over the usual middle distance stares and violins and matching the music with rough, raw emotions. You’ll remember it. 

Sid ends up acting on his father’s last piece of advice and heads for Scotland to re-claim Cassie with whom he has had the biggest, though in some ways understandable, webcam misunderstanding. We see two trains passing and – of course- Cassie is one on her way to see him. It sums up Sid’s life completely. 

Part 4 focuses on Michelle, a character whose self absorption has hitherto lacked the charm or sympathetic qualities of some of the others. Her every motive in series one seemed to be selfish so she’s suffering now because she can’t come to terms with what’s happened to Tony. Not withstanding the call he was making when he collided with the bus, she seems to take his changed demeanour personally and this is what finally makes us understand her more. Not only that but she has now acquired a stepfather whose a prize wally and a prissy sister called Scarlett who ingratiates herself with the others largely thanks to her two prize assets. The scene where Anwar, Sid and especially Chris see her for the first time is virtually Carry On! So, she gets to go to the beach with them for an impromptu camping holiday, supposedly for Michelle’s birthday but which Scarlett hijacks. For virtually the whole episode we’re encouraged to dislike her yet near the end Michelle comes to the conclusion she’s “not really a bitch” which she appears to arrive at spontaneously in the only weakly written moment in an otherwise economical script.

This is the episode where Michelle and Sid get together, unexpectedly and with equally un-predictable results. Both are suffering emotionally, though Sid’s predicament is much more understandable than Michelle’s yet their passion remains high the following day when a lot of dramas would plump for the standard `oh my God, what did I do last night` tack. The beach action is shot by director Simon Massey utilising all the clichés you might expect; wistful sand dunes, strong sunsets, but the action is far more ordinary and messy than the setting and the two juxtapose superbly. There’s plenty of humour too thanks to the high tech house with its voice command operations that fail to work properly at a most inopportune moment. Best of all, the kids park up and erect a tent on the beach and none of them seem to realise the location hence lots of panicking when the sound of water sets off the car alarm! The action finishes with Sid and Michelle back at his place kissing in front of an unseen Cassie; you see whatever happens it’s never ultimately good news for Sid!

If Sid is often the victim of misfortune and bad timing despite his best efforts, then Chris is more complicit in his own woes though episode 5 offers some insight into his life. This time, he and Jal have a pact in which he promises to try and sort himself out and she agrees to say Yes more often. Pretty soon Chris ends up with a flat, a job selling houses and she becomes his girlfriend. Directed by Harry Enfield, under whose camera eye Bristol has never looked so appealing, the episode is packed with comic incident playing to Joe Dempsie’s strengths as a physical performer with a very expressive face almost like one of those silent movie stars. The sequence where he explores his tiny awkwardly shaped flat is particularly funny and there’s a brilliant montage of his hapless explanations for lost jobs that’s worthy of a full on comedy show. At one point, to avoid the returning Angie spotting him at work he simply plonks his head in a salad! Yet he can do serious stuff equally well; his heartfelt pleas to Jal, illustrated by a simple drawing of his dissolving family, is quite touching. They make good foils for each other; Larissa Wilson’s Jal’s straight laced approach to life is almost the total opposite of Chris’ and the two have a definite on screen chemistry. While it may appear Chris is finding contentment by conforming, Ben Schiffer’s script refuses to settle on such a straightforward assumption. Chris achieves success in the job by using his own personality, however oddball, to sell houses and it is an honest un honed approach. The script also offers up different angles on the issue of conformity; there’s the red braced salesman in the office whose success has turned him into a prat and there’s a scene where a group of identically dressed emo kids sit around talking about individuality. Chris’s situation is quite aspirational suggesting that you can succeed in the adult world without losing everything about you that make you unique. There’s a sub plot concerning Cassie, now brooding and quite frighteningly bitchy after discovering Sid and Michelle’s new relationship.  Hannah Murray plays this rather like a horror movie character and at the half way point of the season she is a loose cannon waiting to explode. At the end of the episode we discover Jal is pregnant, though Chris doesn’t know, and it should be interesting to see how the series handles this most common teenage storyline.

The question about episode 6 is whether it was partly or mostly a dream or even if it was shown in the right order as Tony’s open day visit to a university is packed with surreal moments and jumps. Plus the same character turns up both as a disfigured soldier who nicks his sandwiches on the train and a self opinionated lecturer. Is this all Tony’s impression of the day as opposed to what actually happened? Or did it happen? Certainly the other students we meet are arched caricatures, presumably deliberately so, and the mysterious girl Tony frequently encounters is there one minute and gone the next. There’s no real sense of time and yet some of the impressions are quite accurate particularly the banality of university `life` where there are just as many rituals as school and college. Jamie Brittain’s script takes pot shots at this as well as the behaviour of university staff and potential students. It’s amusing enough though seems couched more in hearsay than experience which again leads back to whether or not we are seeing reality.

Tony and the girl appear to sleep together but then again he ends up with the tattoo we see her getting so did it happen? Perhaps what we’re seeing is Tony’s first tentative steps into the wider world as he regains confidence and his sense of self. Nicholas Hoult’s middle distance stare suits the tone of this episode well though doesn’t really help the viewer and its almost a relief to find the bits that clearly are set in reality when he tells Michelle he still loves her. More questions than answers then comprise an episode that may only make full sense later in the series.

The seventh episode is essentially Effy’s art course on a lifesize canvas as her last scene before inevitable expulsion from her posh college suggests. It’s quite an achievement – she engineers a reunion between Sid and Cassie, as well as Tony and Michelle which eventually works and even ends up providing gauche new friend Pandora with a serviceable project. A droll deadpan Kaya Scodelario makes Effy’s every move with a deft sense of purpose and the understanding between brother and sister sometimes makes Effy and Tony look more like aliens who’ve inhabited human bodies but it works somehow. There’s a similar stillness to the episode as director Simon Massey shoots lots of awkward, monosyllabic encounters – the best of which is between Tony and Sid – and portrays the reunions not as triumphant Hollywooodesque moments but as small and painful in their own way. The scene where Michelle finally answers one of Tony’s calls is gorgeous because it’s so matter of fact. In a surreal turn of events to match the previous episode’s dreamy University trip, Tony also encounters a bouncer who only lets him into the club after he provides a critical preparation of his in progress novel. Probably worth checking that out again to see if it mirrors the structure of the episode- is this the writers commenting on their own critics? The episode plays like a finale, drawing together various plot strands and sorting out a lot of issues and makes you wonder- what have they got lined up for the last trio?

Onto episode 8 where Jal’s attempts to sometimes hide and sometimes tell her secret, to maintain her dignity despite everything and to cope with impending musical and academic exams is portrayed with guts and determination by an actress who sometimes seems to be on another level to those around her. At times, Larissa Wilson’s performance is truly something else, full of subtle mood shifts, impassioned delivery and awkward, stressed body language. Yet it is a composed display so that the character is never overwhelmed by that performance and you realise what a talent she is. There are some delightful moments and links between the strands that show how sharp the episode is- two important conversations take place in Spanish as if to emphasise the way communication lets these people down and there are several near misses as Jal starts but fails to say what she wants to say. In the best scene she explains to her Spanish language teacher – in Spanish, subtitles luckily for us – how being an adult is “When you have to decide one way or the other”. It’s a great line because it underscores the hitherto creeping onset of maturity that has haunted the season and which emerges fully blown this week. Equally strong are the separate scenes when Jal deals with each of her parents; again the dialogue focuses in on the way neither side understands themselves or the other party. It is such a shame then, that just when new heights are being reached, the script pulls one of those hackneyed sudden collapses out of the hat and we finish with Chris at death’s door. Quite apart from anything else it would appear to rob us of seeing just how – or indeed whether- Chris really would settle down. For a series that can sky scrape so frequently this is a disappointing addition to what is otherwise a satisfying, thought provoking episode. 

Chris lingers a little longer into episode 9 which highlights one of the problems in interpreting this series; does everything symbolise teenage issues or are we supposed to take matters on face value? This season’s is obsessed with dramatic medical situations; the ramifications of Tony’s accident, Sid’s father’s sudden death, Jal’s mysterious pregnancy and Cassie’s struggles yet each has been weaved into the narrative with skill. Chris’ scenario though just seems too much of the same thing and makes this episode the series’ most conventional yet. It has the tenor of one of those lengthy US shows were teens grapple with one issue after another, each seeming disconnected from any kind of overall message. Skins has largely avoided this but here when proceedings lurch into a New York sojourn you can see it is flirting with the sort of programme the producers would definitely not want to be associated with. Cassie suddenly seems less odd and simply troubled as she encounters remarkable charity and you realise you have seen this a million times before and that this is an idealised movie Manhattan. This move also appears to show the writers are less sure footed outside their Bristol bolt hole and it robs Chris’ death of any context, it seems an uneccessary development and perhaps a slide into soap, a genre dominated by ridiculous collapses, secrets and shocks. That said, Hannah Murray’s performance is strong; for the first time this season Cassie’s craziness and refusal to face reality on anything but her terms is tempered by her need to engage both with looming exams and looking after Chris. Her skittish waywardness surfaces earlier on – and there’s a lovely scene where she and two teachers end up dancing in an exam room. 

While having to tie up various plot strands, the final episode nonetheless manages to be more than a series of goodbyes. There’s even time for a reminder of the sort of prank more redolent of season 1 when Tony and Sid nick Chris’s coffin after the latter’s father bars them from the funeral. The resulting car chase and subsequent return of the stolen body is inventively realised. This is atypical though of the episode’s overall tenor of moving on and pondering the future. Chris’s funeral (handled with just the right amount of dramatic licence) and exam results are the backdrop while Jal tries to come to terms with what’s happened. Having been underused this season Anwar finally gets a turn in the spotlight as the character realises that unlike the others he has no plans and when his results are awful has no idea what he’ll do. Dev Patel handles this with some of his best acting and it’s a measure of that skill that the episode’s most emotional moment is when he accepts Maxxie and James’ offer to go and live with them in London. It’s an unexpectedly strong plotline. Tony and Sid’s fractious friendship is mended but on a new plane; suddenly there is a maturity in the way they deal with each other notwithstanding the earlier theft. Tony still has the same outlook- that he sort things out- but you feel he’s doing it now out of genuine friendship then because he wants to control events. Thus Sid ends up in New York though this fizzles out somewhat and he and Cassie never meet on camera again.

The direction and soundtrack are a perfect match and the script does suggest that finishing with these characters now will preserve them forever in their iconic state rather than dragging them out over three, four, five seasons till they become soap grotesques. Like a lot of fans of the first two series, I suspect it will be hard to embrace the new cast for season 3 and that’s how it should be. Like electronic games, football stars and music, each generation should have their own Skins cast and this is our bunch.