Soap opera has done much to busify social realism. When angry young men first appeared in kitchen sink sagas in the late 1950s, the plots might have bristled with incident, but writers hailing from the page and stage knew the art of restraint. However, the need to keep viewers tuning in three nights a week has prompted a rapid turnover of storylines and the odd brush with sensationalism. Melodrama has even found its way to Loachland. But debuting writer-director Mark Gillis has found a neat way round this dilemma by making a virtue of his strapline: 'It's never one thing, It's the constant drip'.
As John Lennon might have put it, 'Life is what happens to you when you're busy making other plans'. Struggling to stay afloat after losing his job of 20 years in the 2008 Crash, Micky (Martin Herdman) keeps missing signing on times and interviews as he has to deal with crises caused by his recovering addict son Jason (Josh Herdman) and his dementia-suffering father, Sam (Ian Hogg), who has lost his care home place because of rationalisation. He doesn't always help himself, as he gets caught speeding and keeps picking the wrong people to confront. But, as is often the way in the modern movie world, Micky happens to know a white collar criminal who can do him a favour.
The French drug recce that follows slightly strains credibility, but Gillis keeps it low key and uses the episode to introduce the last of the five eminently sensible women who seem better equipped to cope than the more emotive Micky. However, he is played with empathetic everymannish vulnerability by Herdman, as he trudges the mean East End streets that cinematographer Simon Archer consistently reminds us are overlooked by the twinkling edifices of the City.