The Holly and the Ivy Tilsley

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The holly and the Ivy Tilsley
ANDREA MULLANEY

ONE OF THE MOST depressing things about soap operas today is that there are no surprises. That's not just because the plots follow set grooves of affairs, secrets and ever-changing pub licensees, but because you can't walk into a newsagent without magazine covers screaming of upcoming storylines. So I don't think it's spoiling it for anyone to say that Pauline Fowler, Albert Square's orange-faced harridan, is leaving forever as a lovely festive present to weary EastEnders fans (daily, BBC1, times vary).

But without going into her exit itself, the most shocking scene this week is when Martin enters the shell of the Fowler mansion, that tiny living room where we've all spent so much time (and where Arthur threw all the decorations around in a previous Christmas jolly - ah, memories). Gone is the vinyl shopping bag, adorned with frogs, which hung permanently on the back door. Gone are the pictures of Lou Beale and Michelle with a curly perm and gone, too, is that horrible painting of a vase of dusty flowers, leaving only empty spots on the grimy wallpaper.

A grieving, angry Martin packs up all Pauline's manky cardigans for the lucky charity shop. The kettle will boil no more for a nice cup of tea. Random things we've never seen before suddenly appear, as he moodily throws a pile of books into a box. Books?! Wait a minute, when have we seen Pauline snuggled up with anything other than the Walford Gazette? Surely that would have taken precious time away from her baleful attempts to ruin all her children's lives?

And what, do you think, would have been her preferred choice of novel? Anna Karenina, perhaps, with its opening line about all unhappy families being different? Or maybe H Rider Haggard's She, with its ancient matriarchal queen imperiously ruling over the tribe? Or, you know, The Da Vinci Code or whatever.

Over in Coronation Street (Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, Wednesday, Friday, ITV, various times), David Platt - Weatherfield's 16-year-old Machiavellian mastermind who's spent most of the year trying to fool his mum that she was being stalked by a dead serial killer (tsk, kids, eh?) - is also feeling like reading. During the joint Platt/Webster celebrations, he produces a ghost of Christmas Past: long-gone Ivy Tilsley's diary. Well, never mind the incongruity of that batty old witch having supposedly enshrined her thoughts, because it's all just an excuse for David to humiliate his mother for her supposed past transgressions by reciting selected extracts over the turkey. "I know it's genuine because she spelt 'innocent' wrong," he hisses, with a look that says "J'accuse!" "Er, really moist bird," mumbles Sally Webster, hopelessly. It all gets worse from there, till a closing montage o' misery that's fairly genius in its way. "Postmodernism," opines David happily at one point. "It's lost on you lot."

http://living.scotsman.com/tv.cfm?id=1903992006

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[tec]

Thanks for this post. Really looking forward to David & the Diary Present. "Evil is".....as they say.

[maycm]

Sweet stuff - also looking forward to todays episode(s).

Thanks for stumbling through the drunken haze of christmas with this for us Face.

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[eefanincan]

[paulwestside]

I miss "Poison Ivy" - she was the mother in law from hell for Gail and this made for some great fireworks.

Has Gail turned into the battle axe on the show these days with her feud with Eileen and problems with her children?

[faceless]

She's not a patch on Ivy Tilsley. I'd say Ivy was more like Cilla, except less classy and more religious!