The murderously funny, yet subtly depressing tale that is 'A Very English Scandal'

WARNING: THERE BE SPOILERS AHEAD! CONSIDERING THIS IS A TRUE STORY, IT'S NOT TECHNICALLY A 'SPOILER'; BUT MAIN PLOT POINTS ARE COVERED SO TECHNICALLY THERE ARE SPOILERS...

'I don't care if we shoot him or we strangle him or we poison him or we bludgeon him or we tie him up in a sack and drop in the Thames, there is only one way for us to survive, Norman Scott has got to die'- Jeremy Thorpe (Hugh Grant), A Very English Scandal, 2018

Read more: https://www.springfieldspringfield.co.uk/view_episode_scripts.php?tv-show=a-very-english-scandal-2018&episode=s01e01

I feel like doing plenty of reviews recently. After watching Solo: A Star Wars Story and been bombarded with fan service and references, my desire to praise/ hound the latest releases have become inflamed. Much blame can be put on the MCU as well, with their crazy franchise of epic proportions. With the World Cup reaching the halfway point, I must wait patiently to give my thoughts on the tournament, since this upset filled, penalty ridden spectacle has got many more surprises in store. Indeed, once The Handmaid's Tale finishes its second season, expect a comprehensive study into this terrifying vision of a theocratic dictatorship in comparison with another programme that places the United States in a very tricky position. For now though, it's all about A Very English Scandal. Based on both a true story and John Preston's book A Very English Scandal, the way that it was written by Russell T Davies (Doctor Who) and directed by Stephen Frears (The Queen) makes it seem as if it's just a piece of political satire. Comedic scenes are sprinkled throughout, and the whole saga is so incredible that you wouldn't believe that this actually happened. Stand by for a 'brief' story of Jeremy Thorpe and Norman Scott's relationship.

I'm sure there's a joke about the rich screwing over the poor...

The premise of the recent BBC miniseries was one that I knew beforehand due to my own independent research into the period, and it is one that still seems so bizarre to me- time for a 'quick' summary! Jeremy Thorpe, Liberal MP for North Devon from 1959-1979, began a homosexual relationship with Norman Josiffe (later called Norman Scott) in November 1961. Josiffe struggled with mental breakdowns and depression, and came to Thorpe for help on 8 November 1961 (they would begin their relationship in the home of Jeremy's mother Ursula that very night). Thorpe helped Josiffe find his feet, especially as he had left the service of Norman Vater (owner of Kingham Stables) without his National Insurance card, which was a major requirement to find work in the country. Norman would continue to battle with mental health problems, even admitting to the police in 1962 of his sexual relations with Thorpe, with his testament added to Jeremy Thorpe's MI5 file, yet no response from the police. Josiffe would continue to badger Thorpe over his card, meaning Thorpe sent out his close friend Peter Bessell (Liberal MP for Bodmin) to Dublin to keep him in check. For Thorpe, it was a necessary step on his relentless march for power. Norman's accusations were ruthlessly suppressed, because there was no room for scandals on the road to the top. By 1968, once he was leader of the Liberals, the thought of removing Scott crossed his mind ('it is no worse than shooting a sick dog'). 1974 rolled around, with Thorpe in talks with Prime Minister Edward Heath in forming a coalition after a strong Liberal performance in the February 1974 general election. It is in this year that Thorpe was determined to have his former lover disposed of, and through a series of contacts, Andrew Newton was the man chosen to kill Norman Scott.

Love sucks

On 24 October, after Newton had convinced Scott that 'a Canadian hitman' was after him a few weeks before, Newton drove Scott to a 'safe location', with the Great Dane Rinka in tow. Newton feigned tiredness and, as he and Scott exited the car to swap places, Newton produced the gun, shot Rinka (the fiend) and pointed the gun towards Norman Scott. It jammed, he legged it and left his intended victim on the side of the road with Rinka. Newton was arrested as his car had been previously identified, and the whole ugly ordeal was now in the open. The press quickly picked up on the stories surrounding Thorpe and Scott, with Thorpe apparently releasing letters to The Sunday Times to paint him in a sympathetic light. Jeremy's pet name for Norman, 'bunny', appeared in one of the letters written on House of Commons headed paper, and the whole thing backfired against him. He resigned as leader of the Liberals on 10 May 1976, and more stories appeared in the press as Andrew Newton (now released from prison) told his side of the story in October 1977. Thorpe, along with the three 'contacts' David Holmes, John Le Mesurier and George Deakin, were charged with conspiracy to murder after a police investigation. Their trial was delayed due to the fall of James Callaghan's Labour government and the subsequent May 1979 general election, which Thorpe participated in. He lost his seat, and Margaret Thatcher began her reign as Prime Minister as Jeremy Thorpe and his fellow conspirators faced the British justice system.

Hats off to Hugh

The trial lasted from 8 May to 22 June, with Peter Bessell being a major witness for the prosecution, yet was undermined by George Carman (barrister for the defence) for a contract between Bessell and The Sunday Telegraph for a large sum of money being exchanged for his side of the story. Sir Joseph Cantley, the High Court judge overseeing the case, commented on the 'unblemished reputation' of the defendants and how Thorpe was a 'national figure with a very distinguished public record'. Bessell was a 'humbug' for his contract with The Sunday Telegraph and Norman Scott was a sponge, but 'it is a question of belief' over whether his accusations were true. After two days of deliberation, Thorpe and the defendants were acquitted on all charges. All the evidence stacked against them, with testaments and statement all showing the signs of conspiracy to murder, was not enough to take down Jeremy Thorpe. The fact that he lived until 2014, having been diagnosed with Parkinson's disease in 1979, might raise the argument that Thorpe was somewhat invincible.

Quite a story, eh? All true as well! Even then, that's with all the other points of scheming and plot developments left out for the sake of holding your interests. The whole ordeal centres around Jeremy Thorpe (Hugh Grant), a charming, ambitious politician loved by the media. Yet he schemes freely, and is sly in moving up through the ranks of the Liberal Party. It's amazing to see Grant play a character like Thorpe. We are all used to see him as the bumbling Prime Minister David in Love Actually, the socially awkward Charles in Four Weddings and a Funeral and the lovely William in Notting Hill. Grant brings his romcom expertise to the role of Thorpe by excelling in the comedic scenes, but that stuttering pretty boy is long gone. We now have a man motivated by power, with every move a step up the ladder. It's quite chilling to see him in this light, as he manipulates love for his own gains. Marriage to Caroline Allpass, for example, was all part of a plan to boost his numbers in the polls and dismiss rumours of a dodgy private life. Hugh Grant perfectly captures how the bowler hat wearing MP, feeling himself entitled to rule over the masses, set up a charming persona to disguise his dastardly plans. In a way, he was an anti-hero willing to remove all obstacles in his way- especially a former lover. Hugh has had his scrapes with the media over his sexual adventures in private, which may have given him the perfect platform to capture the essence of Jeremy Thorpe and build up his case for being a damn good actor.

A charmingly delicious villain

Norman Scott (Ben Whishaw) is so naive that you can't help but look at him with great sympathy every time he appears on screen. His struggles with mental health are enough to tug on heartstrings, and his multiple failed ventures just makes his story even more heartbreaking. Scott was in awe of his Parliamentary lover, and would hold onto these feelings well into the future. He could be vindictive at times (as demonstrated by his visit to the police in 1962), which gave Thorpe the rush he craved so much as part of this secretive and scandalous relationship. The fact that he is fearless in being gay at a time when it was a criminal offence not only gave Norman Scott a more powerful persona that propped up this vulnerable character, but perhaps was just one factor in leading Jeremy Thorpe to think of killing Scott. Norman was a threat to Jeremy, the rising star of British politics, and an attempt on his life was just another unfortunate chapter in his life. A failed marriage, drug abuse, an inability to hold down employment in equestrian activities or modelling (that damn National Insurance card kept popping up, as well)- Scott's life was tragic indeed. Whishaw perfectly captures the small victories Norman Scott achieves, and masterfully emotes the low points in this fascinating tale. Certainly different to voicing Paddington Bear, I assure you.

Dim, loveable and so very naive 

The two lovers are supported by a cast just as strange and astonishing. Alex Jennings steps into the shoes of Thorpe's close confidant Peter Bessell, sex crazed like Thorpe but, as he himself says, '80-20' in favour of women rather than 'the spear side'. Much like Scott, Bessell is obsessed with Jeremy Thorpe, yet rather than be attracted to him through lust, it was his belief that Thorpe could make an impression on the British political scene that drew him to Thorpe's side. Liberal MP Emlyn Hooson (Jason Watkins) is sneaky like Thorpe and envies his rise to the top of the Liberal Party, and happily listens to Scott's steamy affair with his superior. Hooson is presented as selfish, drawing criticism from the likes of MP Glyn Davies who called Emlyn 'a talented and respected politician'. Of course, A Very English Scandal is largely based on Preston's text, and I presume the BBC wouldn't purposefully undermine the 'founding father of the Welsh liberal party'. The would-be assassin Andrew Newton (Blake Harrison) would give anyone without any prior knowledge of the Thorpe affair a sense that this really was a parody. Our generation knows Blake as the dumb but loveable Neil in The Inbetweeners, and he brings that very charm to Newton's character. Loud and boozy, it is bewildering that such a loose cannon was chosen to oversee the murder of Thorpe; it really was a farce of a plot derived by a man that was as cold and calculating as Jeremy Thorpe.

Reluctantly loyal

The ladies of A Very English Scandal shine through as well. Caroline Allpass (Alice Orr-Ewing), Thorpe's first wife and mother to his son Rupert, was the shield Thorpe used against the media to draw attention away from any distasteful rumours and boost his poll numbers. For Jeremy, marriage to Caroline was 'the price [he's] got to pay to lead this old party', but their relationship is still portrayed as a happy one... until Caroline receives a certain call from one Norman Scott. It is implied that her unfortunate death in a car accident in 1970 was caused by the emotional turmoil of finding out about her husband's homosexual dealings, but this is more of a dramatic tool rather than a statement of fact. Thorpe's second wife Marion Stein (Monica Dolan) stands by her husband's side throughout the trial (and well beyond that, as well), and it is her reaction to the publication of the 'Bunnies' letter that was so perfect. She exclaims the word with utter disbelief, with Jeremy calmly sending Rupert up to his room as the couple prepare to have a very serious chat. Upon returning from resigning as leader of the Liberals, Marion calmly listen to her husband's side of the story over a bowl of cod in parsley sauce; I doubt many couples nowadays would get so far as to eat and discuss a very serious hurdle in their relationship. With Eve Myles playing Gwen Parry-Jones, the ill-fated Welsh postmistress who begins a relationship with Scott and encourages him to talk to Emlyn Hooson, and the terrifying, monocle-wearing Ursula Thorpe (Patricia Hodge), mother to Jeremy, also putting in excellent performances, it appears there is no weak link in this latest BBC drama.

Yeh, if my husband had been accused of murder, I'd be shocked too

Love is one of the main themes that runs throughout the three episodes. Norman Scott clings painfully to his love for Thorpe, and it is this belief that actually brings him even more tragedy. His marriage to Angela Mary Susan Myers (Lucy Briggs-Owen) in 1969 ends with her leaving him with their son Benjamin in tow. At their wedding reception, her father lays into Scott by calling him a 'dreadful homosexual' and urging her daughter to come home. One of their exchanges perfectly described Norman and Sue's marriage:

NORMAN: I love you.
SUE: You know what you sound when you say that? Queer.

It's a very depressing moment, as Norman cradles their child in their rundown home in the Dorset countryside. The demise of Parry-Jones began from the moment she and Norman made love in his caravan, as it shook about with great ferocity. Her desire to do the right thing and bring the truth to light, as part of her affection for Scott, led them to Hooson and chief whip David Steel (Peter F. Gardiner). Norman once again professes his love for Jeremy Thorpe, and she realises what a fool she was for thinking this matter could be resolved so easily. Gwen's spiral into the abyss is another sullen moment from the show, and is yet another victim of Norman Scott's love for Jeremy Thorpe. The most tragic death is, of course, Rinka the Great Dane. Newton was terrified of dogs, and eyed Scott's companion with a great deal of fear, bombarding Norman with questions over whether the dog was dangerous or not. Rinka was the only fatality on that rainy night in 1975, and it was yet another innocent life destroyed by the Thorpe/Scott affair. Norman Scott, to the driver who comes upon him, screams that it was Jeremy Thorpe that did this- it was Jeremy Thorpe that has ruined his life. That love he once felt has now been replaced by hatred. Love sure is a bitch.

I'm still mad

For Jeremy Thorpe, he fares slightly better, even though Caroline died in 1970. It is here that we see a fantastic piece of cinematography, as scenes jump between the happily married Thorpes and Norman Scott's venture into modelling. As Scott falls into drugs and alcohol, Jeremy and Caroline enjoy a peaceful life in North Devon with their son, dancing the night away without a care in the world. Tragic in the sense that this marriage was a ploy for political gain, but we can still see chemistry between the couple. It seems like a cliché to have jump cuts between two former lovers; at times, I felt like the camera would cut to the window to show Norman peeking in. He would turn away with tears in his eyes as Air Supply's 'All Out of Love' plays (I know it's an 80's song, but it was the one I associate with these kinds of moments). Marion, even as more and more evidence stacks up against her husband over the fact that he had a homosexual relationship with Norman Scott, stands by her husband. They would stay married until she died in March 2014, nine months before her husband, undeterred by what they had suffered through. Indeed, when BBC reporter Keith Graves asked Jeremy if he and Norman had been sexually involved, she stood up and said 'Go on, stand up. Stand up and say that again'. Not only does it heap even more praise upon Monica Dolan and her portrayal of Marion, but shows that her own devotion to Jeremy was deep like Norman's had been. She would care for him after he was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease in 1979, still unmoved by her husband's actions. Now that's the definition of standing by your man.

When tackling the ambitious project of producing an historical drama, it is integral to give some sort of historical accuracy. The Last Kingdom, the BBC series based on Bernard Cornwell's Saxon Tales series, depicts Uhtred (Alexander Doetsch) fighting against the Danes as they threaten to topple Alfred the Great (David Dawson) and his kingdom of Wessex. Accurate in some ways, such as the emphasis on Alfred's piety and love of knowledge, yet fell short in a way due to inaccuracies like basically everyone being dressed in leather and fur (chain mail was a around back then, you know). In terms of A Very English Scandal, their attempt at capturing the essence of 1960s/ 1970s Britain just adds to the whole bizarre feeling of this latest BBC triumph. There are plenty of references to the time period for the older members of society to smile about, including the radio jingle on BBC Radio 2, the freedom to smoke on buses and Thorpe's cod in parsley sauce. Yet they don't live off the references at all; in a way, they aren't trying to glamorise the period at all, or even depict it as a horrible time to be alive. The Duffer Brothers, creators of the outstanding Stranger Things, pride themselves of creating a world of 1980s nostalgia and science fiction, making people want to live in the time of arcade machines and crazy hair, but also be weary of coming face to face with The Demogorgon. The team behind A Very English Scandal didn't set this out as their main objective, and instead wanted to present one of the most incredible stories in the history of British politics in a time where the relationship between Thorpe and Scott was a criminal offence.

'Ah, look over there Norman- it's my BAFTA'

That's the depressing underlying theme of A Very English Scandal. Scott is certainly infatuated with Thorpe, who himself knew that if his dealings with the same sex came to light then his dreams of power would be extinguished in an instance. Mentioning the passing of The Sexual Offences Act in 1967 was a necessity, as it introduced the characters of Labour MP Leo Abse (Anthony O'Donnell), Conservative peer Lord Arran (David Bamber) and the motivation behind Arran's desire to sponsor Abse's bill. Henry Gore became Earl of Arran in 1958 after his brother, Arthur, committed suicide due to being homosexual. It is harrowing to have just been introduced to such a brilliant character as Lord Arran and have the man break down in tears as he recounts of how his brother took his own life just because the law viewed him as a criminal. This was a man nicknamed 'Boofy', who let badgers roam round the house he shared with powerboat racing wife Fiona (Susan Wooldridge), and to have this tragic part of Boofy's life mentioned suddenly gives the audience a reality check. The tone of the show makes it seem like it shouldn't be taken seriously, especially when viewing the first time Jeremy and Norman lie together. The Liberal MP enters Norman's room, donned in silk dressing gown with a tub of Vaseline in one hand, and it is here that he first calls him 'Bunny'. After they share their first kiss, Thorpe tells Scott to 'hop onto all fours, there's a good chap'. It feels as if this was made by the Carry On franchise, especially with the Etonian elite plotting murder, the hapless Newton being entrusted with killing off Thorpe's lover and Norman and Gwen's ferocious love making that causes his caravan to shake as it were in an earthquake. But as soon as the scene with Arran plays out, we are all reminded of how, just over fifty years ago, the first major step towards equal rights for homosexuals was taken.

A little known hero of British politics 

I sit here, typing away at my laptop, still in bewilderment that this was all a true story, even with knowing about the story before watching A Very English Scandal. How could a story of love, attempted murder and suppressed evidence make me laugh so much? I should be raging of how Jeremy Thorpe got away with it all, especially as we live in an age where political scandals occur on a regular basis. But I couldn't help laugh in a very unattractive way as Thorpe obtained the suitcase lost by Scott during his travels in Switzerland and proceeded to lock himself away, with Peter Bessell's secretary Diana Stainton (Naomi Battrick) knocking ferociously on the door as Thorpe removed the incriminating letters from the case. Those letters would then find their way into the hands of the press, according to the show at least, after builders began demolishing Bessell's office. The very start of the whole affair in Ursula Thorpe's home isn't depicted as a greatly dramatic moment of two men breaking the law, especially as one takes advantage of the other, but Thorpe's upbeat demeanour takes away the tension. Moreover, the trial itself is a wonderful blend of drama, humour and disbelief. George Carman (Adrian Scarborough) rips into the prosecution with unrelenting brutality, only to be upstaged by Norman Scott, as I shall demonstrate below:

GEORGE: (asking Norman to recount the events of his first night with Jeremy) And what was your reaction?
NORMAN: I thought I was being sawn in half.
(laughter) GEORGE: So what did you do?
NORMAN: The only thing I could do, I bit the pillow.

This is a high profile court case over how the former leader of the Liberal Party has conspired to murder his ex gay lover, and yet we have dialogue like this! Scott exited the courtroom declaring 'I was rude, I was vile, I was queer, I was myself'- to then be swamped with reporters and supporters was certainly a fantastic moment. Scott had stood up for himself, and he had come out on top. Of course, bear in mind that Preston's novel would have brought forward this kind of dialogue, but my point still stands. The actions of High Court judge Sir Joseph Cantley (Paul Freeman) is hilarious and enraging in its own right, as he praised the 'unblemished reputation of the defendants' and branded Scott a parasite, but still reminded the jury that it was 'a question of belief'. The whole thing is wonderfully parodied by Peter Cook, and is well worth the watch. It adds to the frustration of Thorpe escaping conviction due to Cantley's clear feelings of how the jury should judge the matter at hand, but that just makes the whole story even more deliciously scandalous.

Thorpe basically saw the whole thing as a theatric performance 

My love for history is no secret, and I don't hide it away like MI5 did with the accusations of Jeremy Thorpe and Norman Scott engaging in a then illegal homosexual relationship. It's stories like these that make me adamant for people to go out there and discover the past, as we are treated to such incredible events such as the Thorpe affair. When shows such as A Very English Scandal come about, it is the perfect opportunity for people to watch one of the most high profile cases of the 20th century played out on screen, with plenty of humour and drama sprinkled in to make it even more appealing. The humour takes away the serious edge this story has of murder and the sad tone of how homosexuality was seen as a crime against the state, which may be cited as a criticism, but one that I find weak. Hugh Grant will certainly have his eyes on that BAFTA, certainly gazing at it in the same way that Jeremy Thorpe did when he first came across Norman Scott back at Kingham Stables.

I think we're all a bit infatuated with Norman Scott, to be honest 

Ben G 😁 xo
P.S. I'm surprised that flight tracking websites haven't crashed as everyone looks for the flight that brings football back to England. Might be a bit delayed as we have to drop off the Germans on the way.

This just got interesting...