If they gave out Baftas for creative scheduling, the timing of Crossing the Floor (BBC2, Saturday) would take a lot of beating. Placing it slap in the middle of party conference season was delicious, wicked and very, very funny. So what if placing it slap in the middle of the Neil Hamilton affair was delicious, wicked and very, very lucky. Guy Jenkin, the writer and director, rode his good fortune like Frankie Dettori...or Frankie Denew-Labour for that matter.
A sequel to Jenkin's first stab at dramatised political satire, A Very Open Prison , this was one of those rare beasts - an improvement on the original. The career of Home Secretary David Hanratty (Tom Wilkinson) had moved on, but not a lot. The position of the Conservative government led by a Prime Minister (James Fleet) obsessed by his own niceness had also advanced. Its majority was down to one, its day-to-day sur-vival was dependent on the support of the Ulster Unionists and its chances of winning the next election were decidedly slim. Really, where does Jenkin get his ideas from?
No prizes then for guessing the state of Her Majesty's Opposition. Tom Peel (Neil Pearson), its inevita-bly youthful leader, was well groomed, well coached by his scheming spin doctor, Clive Colville (Douglas Henshall), and well practised in the art of slipping in a sound-bite at every opportunity. "As long as we have hope..."
Given the title, the basic plot did not require a lot of guesswork. Rightly convinced that his prospects within his own party were pretty much non-existent, Hanratty determined that joining new Labour was the only way of ensuring a future for himself. His defection would prompt a vote of confidence and an elec-tion...but only if Peel guaranteed him a senior position in Cabinet. You can probably fill in the gaps yourself - bed, blackmail, betrayal - the usual stuff.
But what you couldn't do is recreate the exquisite comic detail in Jenkin's script (I particularly liked Andy Hamilton as the ruthless tabloid editor who spends his nights dancing in gay night-clubs) or the perform-ances turned in by a fashionable but convincing cast.
As Hanratty, Wilkinson enjoys an unfair advantage in bearing an ever more uncanny resemblance to the former transport minister, Steve Norris. Diana Kent was wonderful as the mad, bad and dangerous to top-up wife, who Hanratty was in the caddish process of trading in for a younger model (Helen Baxendale). Among the politicians, Clive Russell was thoroughly engaging in the John Prescott role ("Sorry," apologised his boss, "he's been unbearably proletarian ever since you called him a Champagne socialist"); Henshall schemed to convincing effect as Peter Mandelson's alter ego and Fleet was simply wonderful as the Prime Minister. "I'm not just nice, I can be witty as well." Oh yes.
Matthew Bond - The Times - Monday October 7, 1996