Flawless in a barrister's wig: Maxine Peake as Martha Costello in Silk
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BBC1’s Silk: we’ve come a long way since Juliet Bravo

The legal drama in which m’learned ladies aren’t just tolerated but adored.

Silk; Line of Duty
BBC1; BBC2

I love Silk. I love gobby Martha (Maxine Peake) and posh Clive (Rupert Penry-Jones) and the way they look so preposterously good in their wigs. I love snouty Billy the clerk (Neil Stuke), for whom every brief is either a landmine or a Lottery ticket, and nothing in between. I love Caroline Warwick, QC (Frances Barber), who pretends to be as vinegary as a pickled onion but is at heart a sweetie. How fantastic that a mainstream TV show should refuse to punish its female characters for having brains the size of Wales and careers that fill up their lives.

How far we have come. Thanks to Juliet Bravo, in which Anna Carteret starred as a police inspector battling male prejudice in a West Yorkshire mill town, I spent most of the Eighties dreaming that I, too, would one day be addressed as “ma’am” by men with bald patches and beer bellies (a fantasy that turned out to be unexpectedly useful when I began working at a Sunday newspaper). These recalcitrant males would resent my great intellect, but the rules would dictate a certain subservience. Cut to 2014, however, and we have a series in which the men don’t merely tolerate a woman’s cleverness; they adore it. Sometimes – take a cold shower, Clive – it even makes them pant with desire. The power of this should not be underestimated. My advice to readers in possession of a teenage daughter: get her to watch Silk.

The first episode of the new series (24 February, 9pm) opened at the party to celebrate Clive becoming a Queen’s Counsel. Martha, who beat him to it in the QC stakes, arrived late, furious at having lost an appeal, and, on discovering that the party lacked music, promptly attached her iPod to a nearby speaker. She then danced loopily to Joy Division while everyone else sipped their champagne politely and wondered all over again at the life force that is the greatest asset of Shoe Lane Chambers.

“I love it when she loses,” Clive said. “I love it when she dances. She’s so very, very bad at both.” Moments later, he and Martha repaired to a nearby courtroom for a timely snog, though not before she had teased him about his own taste in music, which extends (he went to public school) to Kylie by way of Genesis. Jokes about Genesis, you don’t get those in Call the Midwife.

The party was interrupted by the news that the teenage son of Alan (Alex Jennings), their head of chambers, had been charged with the manslaughter of a police officer who had died during a student demo. Whom would Alan choose to represent his boy in court? Do you need to ask? Sure enough, Martha was soon in the boy’s cell, the slash of crimson on her lips a beacon of hope amid all the grey. If Silk’s plots occasionally strain credulity – and this one did – there is always pleasure to be had in the dialogue. Peter Moffat, a writer who has Baftas in his downstairs loo (or somewhere) and who used to be a barrister, too, has a gift for making his characters sound plausible even when they are about to do something wildly implausible. “What’s he like?” enquired Martha, of the judge she would shortly face. “He’s like a sherbet lemon suppository,” said Clive. This, believe me, is Clive all over. Even his similes sound pleased with themselves.

Over on BBC2, we’re halfway through the new series of Line of Duty (Wednesdays, 9pm). I could drone on for hours about Jed Mercurio’s writing: the daring of it (no easy character for the viewer to side with here) and also the artistic pedantry (his way with police procedure and bureaucracy is beyond extraordinary). But you may still be catching up and I don’t want to give anything away. So all I will say now is: wow, Keeley Hawes. What a moment this is for her. She is mesmerising as DI Lindsay Denton, an officer who might, or might not be, corrupt. Fear, anger, resignation, menace: emotions pass over her (make-up-free) face like passing headlights on a bedroom ceiling. She looks ill, as coppers often seem to be, and there is a heaviness in the way she walks, as if a bomb were strapped to her middle. To be honest, I can’t get enough of DI Denton; when she’s not in a scene, I miss her. But do I want her to be innocent or guilty? Ah, this – as Mercurio surely knows – is a much more difficult question to answer. 

Rachel Cooke trained as a reporter on The Sunday Times. She is now a writer at The Observer. In the 2006 British Press Awards, she was named Interviewer of the Year.

This article first appeared in the 26 February 2014 issue of the New Statesman, Scotland: a special issue

Photo: Getty
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Commons Confidential: George Osborne puffs away

Your weekly dose of gossip from around Westminster.

The Tory bouncer Iain Duncan Smith is licking his wounds after Labour’s sisterhood reclaimed the blokey bar of the House. The former army captain liked to glower at opponents with a gang of men by the line opposite the Speaker’s chair.

Before the summer recess, the front row was occupied by the MPs Jo Stevens, Tracy Brabin, Cat Smith and Yasmin Qureshi, who refused to budge when IDS tried to push through. Labour is determined to make life uncomfortable for the majority-less Tories.

Signs of Ukip’s tentacles extending into the tragic Charlie Gard case include the press officer Gawain Towler using the party’s official email account to distribute “for a friend” campaign statements. Meanwhile, the defeated parliamentary candidate Alasdair Seton-Marsden has surfaced as a spokesman. He is accused by TV news shows of tricky behaviour and of trying to exploit the tragedy. His big idea was to have Nigel Farage interview the parents. Ukip likes to keep everything in its own family.

The baronet’s son George Osborne – the vengeful sacked chancellor pretending that everything from Brexit to pay caps has nowt to do with him, now that he edits a London free sheet – is a secret smoker. My snout whispers that the Chancer favours Vogue Menthol, an appropriately upmarket brand of cigarette. He was always too grand for fags.

Many Labour MPs are reluctant to sit on select committees. An internal report from the Parliamentary Labour Party identifies one vacancy on science, two on public administration, Wales and petitions, plus three on environment.

The list shows Keith Vaz switching from justice to international trade. Jim the washing machine salesman would doubtless approve.

Parliament’s expensive programme to protect MPs after the assassination of Jo Cox isn’t going entirely to plan. Workers installing an intruder alarm at an MP’s home in northern England apparently caused £1,400 of damage drilling through a water pipe. The company responsible should brace itself for questions about subcontracting and unskilled labour.

The Tory right-whinger Peter “dry as a” Bone spent four nights on an inflatable mattress in a room next to the private bill office to table a forest of draft legislation that, fortunately, has no chance of becoming law. Mrs Bone probably enjoyed the break.

The party’s over for the SNP, with the Nats abandoning parliament’s Sports and Social Bar since losing 21 seats in June. Westminster staff celebrated with a drink. SNP MPs cheering for whichever country played England was an own goal. 

Kevin Maguire is the associate editor (politics) of the Daily Mirror

Kevin Maguire is Associate Editor (Politics) on the Daily Mirror and author of our Commons Confidential column on the high politics and low life in Westminster. An award-winning journalist, he is in frequent demand on television and radio and co-authored a book on great parliamentary scandals. He was formerly Chief Reporter on the Guardian and Labour Correspondent on the Daily Telegraph.

This article first appeared in the 27 July 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Summer double issue