In the gritty alleyways and dilapidated estates of 1980s Birmingham and Coventry, dreams of creative transcendence blossomed amidst the grit and social turmoil. From the mind of Steven Knight, creator of the iconic Peaky Blinders, emerges This Town – an ambitious exploration of youth, ambition, and the redemptive power of music.
This six-part saga chronicles the unlikely genesis of a new wave band, fronted by the poet Dante and his motley crew of cousins and misfits. As they meld nihilistic lyricism with the infectious grooves of ska and punk, a portrait emerges of a generation grasping for an artistic liferaft in a sea of violence and oppression.
While Knight’s love letter to his West Midlands roots radiates authenticity and heart, the narrative struggles to harmonize its disparate melodies. Undeniably captivating characters and soulful performances battle against an overwrought plot brimming with detours into IRA machinations and criminal sideshows. This tugs the series in opposing tonal directions, leaving it stranded between gritty realism and indulgent melodrama.
Nonetheless, there is ingenuity in Knight’s brazen symphonic fusion that merits a listen. Though imperfect, This Town’s raw verve and emotional resonance beckon us to embrace the magic of creative resilience in even the most turbulent of times.
Tangled Melodies: Navigating the Intricate Tapestry
At its core, This Town weaves together three distinct yet interwoven strands – the nascent formation of Dante’s fledgling band, the fraught family dynamics that both propel and obstruct their musical ambitions, and the ever-present hum of social upheaval reverberating through 1980s Birmingham and Coventry.
Knight ambitiously attempts to braid these plotlines into a rich tapestry, with varying degrees of success. The most resonant thread is undoubtedly the burgeoning artistic journey of Dante, Jeannie, Bardon, and Fiona. As this curious quartet stumbles towards creative synergy, their youthful passion and vulnerability render an affecting portrait of the human spirit’s inexorable pull towards self-expression.
Yet the road to the band’s fruition is a winding one, plagued by pacing issues that too often divert into ancillary plot cul-de-sacs. The specter of the IRA looms large, with Bardon’s embroilment in his father’s militant activities consuming substantial narrative real estate. While providing crucial context on the era’s powder keg tensions, these sequences occasionally veer into gratuitous brutality that disrupts the more delicately rendered emotional core.
Likewise, the criminal underworld embodied by the menacing Robbie Carmen casts an unnecessarily lurid shadow. These detours, while individually gripping, accumulate into narrative bloat that slows the series’ momentum and muddles its thematic clarity.
Where This Town regains its footing is in its deft interweaving of the personal and the political. The fraught dynamic between Dante and his soldier brother Gregory encapsulates the nuanced dichotomy of young Black men navigating divergent paths amidst systemic oppression. Their tensions echo those rippling through a West Midlands teetering on the precipice of sweeping social upheaval.
It is in these moments of profound humanism that Knight’s ambition crystallizes. While the pacing may be erratic, the contemplative spaces where relationships are forged and perspectives expanded prove utterly magnetic. This delicate balance between the intimate and the institutional is what elevates This Town beyond mere gritty realism into a soulful meditation on struggles both personal and systemic.
Souls in Discord: A Masterclass in Characterization
While This Town’s narrative tapestry may fray at times, the series’ true artistry lies in the indelible characters that populate its gritty canvas. At the core of this character-driven tour de force is Levi Brown’s revelatory turn as Dante – the contemplative poet whose dreams of musical transcendence anchor the saga.
Brown imbues Dante with a soulful fragility that instantly endears, his pensive gaze and hushed cadences radiating an eternal yearning for connection amidst the discord. It’s a stunningly nuanced portrayal that both grounds the wildly erratic plot and elevates every soul-baring verse spilled from Dante’s feverishly scribbling pen.
Forming the dysfunctional yin to Dante’s delicate yang are Ben Rose’s edgy Bardon and Jordan Bolger’s hardened Gregory. Rose locates the simmering fury in Bardon’s eyes as he chafes against the militant grip of his IRA father, while Bolger’s Gregory encapsulates the brutal paradox of the Black British soldier – a tormented soul seeking order amidst the chaos.
Their volatile dynamic with the placid Dante forges relationships fraught with startling authenticity. We feel the depths of their fissured familial bonds, their divergent trajectories rendering them profoundly alien yet inextricably bound.
The series’ emotional resonance extends to the sublime supporting ensemble. As Bardon’s self-destructive mother Estella, Michelle Dockery transcends with a turn both harrowing and haunting, her gutting vulnerability exposing the cyclical generational toll of systemic oppression.
Rounding out the luminous periphery are Eve Austin’s edgy dreamer Jeannie and Freya Parks’ effervescent Fiona. Their intoxicating chemistry with Brown kindles a spark of youthful verve and romance that counterbalances the relentless darkness encroaching from all angles.
While Knight’s thematic ambition may have exceeded his grasp, his profound gift for rendering authentic souls in crisis remains defiantly intact in This Town. Each performance is a masterwork, imbuing even the most erratic plot machinations with searing pathos and humanity. It’s an uneven yet utterly captivating ensemble piece that solidifies Knight’s prowess for populating his West Midlands dreamscapes with characters who live, breathe and ache with startling immediacy.
Dissonant Harmonies: Capturing a Turbulent Cultural Zeitgeist
Amidst the narrative chaos, This Town’s thematic soul emerges in its unflinching exploration of art’s transformative potential in the face of oppression. Through the prism of Dante’s fledgling band, Knight paints a vivid portrait of creativity as a means of transcending systemic subjugation and societal turmoil.
The series deftly captures the combustible cultural cauldron of 1980s Birmingham and Coventry. Punk’s anarchic howl echoes through the streets, intermingling with the infectious grooves of ska and two-tone in a sonic tapestry of youthful rebellion. Against this discordant backdrop, Dante and his cohorts quest to forge a harmonious new voice – one that can channel their hardships into a rallying cry for the marginalized.
It’s a potent metaphor that resonates across eras, elevating This Town from mere gritty period drama into a poignant meditation on art’s enduring capacity to inspire and unite. Knight doesn’t flinch from the harsh realities encircling his idealistic youths, with the malign specters of racism, addiction, and sectarian violence looming omnipresent.
While some of the more heavy-handed forays into IRA territoriality veer into caricature, Knight’s overarching social commentary is imbued with a grounded, lived-in authenticity. His nuanced perspective illuminates the tangled intersections of oppression that constrained the Black, Irish, and working-class communities alike during this volatile epoch.
Yet in probing the depths of this cultural powder keg, Knight falters in adhering to a consistent tonal cohesion. Flashes of wry humor pierce through the darkness, only to be jarringly subsumed by spurts of gratuitous violence that smack of creative indulgence. These mercurial shifts undermine the series’ thematic resonance, fracturing the intimate human stories at its core.
Nonetheless, This Town’s stumbles are offset by its undeniable idealistic verve. For all its flaws, the series soars whenever it leans into the boundless human yearning to forge beauty and meaning amidst the ashes. It’s a harmonious refrain that solidifies Knight’s status as a vibrant voice documentating Britain’s unsung social mosaic.
Gritty Refrains: Capturing the West Midlands’ Raw Cadence
Even when This Town’s thematic ambitions exceed its narrative grasp, the series remains an immersive feat of productional bravura. Director Steven Knight’s affection for his West Midlands roots radiates from every lovingly composed frame and gritty, dilapidated set piece.
The cinematography by Nigel Willoughby conjures a haunting sense of time and place, his camera prowling the brutalist architecture and crumbling facades with a restless, voyeuristic energy. The visuals exude an electric verisimilitude, transporting viewers into the socio-economic despair simmering beneath 1980s Birmingham and Coventry’s industrial decay.
This stylistic grit coalesces with the series’ ingenious use of music to forge an utterly entrancing period authenticity. From The Specials to Jimmy Cliff, the soundtrack pulsates with the riotous energy of the two-tone and ska revival crackling through the UK’s counterculture underground. These iconic refrains seamlessly interweave with the band’s own infectious originals, courtesy of musical visionaries like Dan Carey and Kae Tempest.
Beyond mere nostalgia, the music operates as the series’ atmospheric lifeblood. Kinetic rehearsal sequences juxtapose raw creative passion against the cacophony of societal tumult, their anarchic energy echoing Knight’s bold thematic ambitions. He wields music as the universal tongue articulating the struggles, dreams and defiance simmering beneath Britain’s long-neglected urban heartlands.
While certain narrative indulgences disrupt the pace, Knight’s assured directorial hand maintains an admirable cohesion amidst the tonal whiplash. His affinity for character-driven humanism anchors even the most melodramatic deviations, imbuing the entire proceedings with an irrepressible vitality and emotional immediacy.
For all its uneven storytelling, This Town’s technical craft and artistic bona fides ultimately coalesce into a transporting cinematic rhapsody – one that immerses us in the West Midlands’ unique cadence while amplifying the universal melodies of youthful struggle and self-actualization.
Discordant Crescendo: A Flawed Yet Resonant Opus
As the final guitar riffs of This Town’s inaugural season crescendo, what reverberates is a series brimming with sparks of ingenuity amidst a discordant narrative symphony. Like the rough-hewn council estates it immortalizes, Steven Knight’s valentine to Birmingham and Coventry’s simmering underground radiates a scuffed, unvarnished allure.
For every compelling character exploration and soulful melodic refrain, there are jarring tonal detours that disrupt the series’ cadence. Knight’s ambition to capture the region’s gritty spirit often dissolves into gratuitous indulgences that dilute the intimate heart powering his most transcendent sequences.
And yet, even when skirting self-parody, This Town’s intoxicating production design, stunning cinematography and entrancing musicality persist in seducing the senses. The series soars highest when leaning into its ruminative ribcage – when evoking the electrifying fervour catalyzing Dante’s creative awakening against the ominous realities encircling Britain’s marginalized fringes.
Though erratic in execution, Knight’s audacious fusion of youthful rapture and simmering dread renders This Town a gritty cultural rhapsody well worth embracing. With sharper editing and a more cohesive tonal cohesion, a potential follow-up season could distill the magic lurking within this solid if uneven debut. An imperfect yet earnestly soulful overture from a distinct voice continuing to hone his artistic cadence.
The Review
This Town
Steven Knight's This Town is an ambitious, visually arresting exploration of youthful artistic awakening amidst 1980s social tumult in Birmingham and Coventry. While boasting stellar performances and impressive production values that immerse viewers in the era's gritty cultural zeitgeist, the series is hamstrung by a scattered narrative that struggles to harmonize its disparate melodic threads. For every transcendent character vignette or soulful musical interlude, there are gratuitous detours into IRA territoriality and criminal sideshows that disrupt the tonal cohesion. Yet even when skirting self-parody, Knight's undeniable gift for humanistic storytelling persists, rendering This Town a flawed yet ultimately resonant cultural rhapsody meditating on art's capacity to forge meaning from oppression. With sharper editing and a unified creative focus, a potential follow-up could distill the magic lurking within this solid if erratic debut. An earnest if imperfect overture announcing Knight as a vital voice documentating Britain's long-marginalized urban heartlands.
PROS
- Stellar ensemble performances, particularly Levi Brown as Dante
- Visually stunning cinematography and production design
- Evocative musical soundtrack capturing the era's cultural energy
- Potent thematic exploration of art's power against oppression
- Authentic, nuanced perspective on intersecting social struggles
CONS
- Scattered plot with excessive narrative detours
- Tonal dissonance between gritty realism and melodrama
- Some caricatured portrayals of the IRA and criminal elements
- Pacing issues that stall momentum
