peak peaky…
The ironic joke goes that once upon a time a kangaroo escaped from Birmingham zoo and it caused locals to muse laconically that it would finally put Birmingham on the map. History does not record any further comment on said marsupial and, notwithstanding its ‘second city’ claim, together with the undeniable fact that it produced both the world’s greatest sauce (HP) and its finest confectionery product (Cadbury’s Crème Egg), Birmingham remains firmly off-piste as a black-country backwater.
That was until 2013 and a certain US author, Stephen King, tweeted “Watching a cool British series, Peaky Blinders”. More spaghetti junction than spaghetti western it turned out early fans also included such doyens of taste-making and trend-setting as Brad Pitt, Julia Roberts, Michael Mann and Ed Sheeran. Rumour has it David Bowie never missed an episode and went as far as suggesting his music be used in the show. Personally, I was delighted to hear Birmingham’s finest, Black Sabbath’s ‘The Wizard’ being used last week to great effect as the gang strolled menacingly through their Small Heath heartland.
Now in its fifth series and having relocated to BBC One’s prime-time 9.00pm Sunday slot, it raises the question of how exactly has a TV programme concerning the criminal comings-and-goings of a sharp-suited, starched-collared bunch of first world war misfits caught the imagination of the world-wide viewing public to such an extent that it has spawned Peaky Blinders-themed bars in London, a convention in Santa Monica, its own IPA bitter and thrice-nightly guided tours of Digbeth and beyond? What is the fascination?
‘The Good, The Bad and The Brummie’ as one early headline referred to it, is an obvious mash-up of The Seven Samurai, The Magnificent Seven, The Godfather, Dirty Harry and The Sopranos. Cillian Murphy’s capo dei capi, Tommy Shelby, represents all that’s irresistible of each and every anti-hero: he’s Clint Eastwood, James Gandolfini and Al Pacino in a newsboy cap and tailored herringbone suit. The finest baby-faced beau-brummie sociopath of them all. Wrap it all up in a socio-political saga of ‘outraged lions once led by donkeys rising-up against their betters but forgetting to tug their forelock’ and you perhaps even have a subtext of today’s populism.
Past story-lines have dealt with the Irish uprising, the Russian revolution, the growth of Antisemitism and European immigration, and this time around we have the mad-mix-mayhem of a camp (but sinister) Oswald Mosley and the rise of fascism, the fall-out from 1929’s Wall Street Crash, blatant religious sectarianism and the meddling, manipulative elitism of UK politics. In 2019 Britain, riven with Brexit division, international isolationism and ravaged by nationwide knife crime, glamorising such sartorial shenanigans might not be politically correct but it remains at the top of viewing statistics. Yes, it’s all completely over-the-top, compelling and confounding in equal measure, and we could well be at ‘peak-peaky’, but I for one, love it!
