Ken Loach’s latest film opens with joyous celebration. It’s 1945 and Britain has emerged victorious from years of conflict with Germany. There is dancing in the streets and a sense of communal achievement.

Yet May 1945 did not mark the end of Britain’s troubles. The urban landscape had been ravaged by bombs, and much of the remaining inner city housing was not worth keeping. Millions of British people were living in dreadful conditions: filthy, overcrowded slums with woefully inadequate toilet facilities. Loach employs a series of moving testimonies to illustrate the poverty of the time. One man speaks of how he slept alongside his siblings in a bed infested with insects, while another recounts hearing his mother dying in childbirth for want of adequate medical provision.

Within months of VE Day, a general election was held. Despite leading Britain throughout the war, Churchill lost in favour of a landslide Labour victory. The war effort had proven that the nation could achieve anything if they worked together, and the public were determined that Britain would not be dragged back to the thirties. The openly socialist agenda which Clement Attlee and the Labour Party were offering promised a brighter future for the working man. In a combination of archive footage and black and white interviews, The Spirit of ’45 tells the story of Labour’s radical reform of British industries and services.

Loach introduces key moments in the history of the welfare state up to the present day, from the nationalisation of the mines, transport, electricity and gas networks in the late forties to the push for renewed privatisation under Thatcher. Considerable attention is also given to the NHS in the wake of the 2012 Health and Social Care Bill. The documentary features interviews with retired and current health professionals who criticise the cost-cutting measures used by private contractors, which they believe limit the quality of care.

A lot has changed in the world since 1945, when Britain was ripe for socialism. The manufacturing industries were still thriving, and thousands of men found jobs rebuilding the damaged infrastructure and creating ‘new towns’. Most women did not expect to be employed; enslaved as they were in domesticity. But Labour’s successful and popular programme of reforms was as much about an ethos of community as about favourable conditions. The idea of each man as his ‘brother’s keeper’ was one which resonated with the public.

The Spirit of ’45 made me feel angry, in a good way. At times the film does feel like propaganda, although the excellent accompanying website offers an unbiased timeline and links to alternative political commentaries. In fact, little reference is made to the Labour party of today, other than one interviewee lamenting that it has been hijacked by the middle class. ‘The working class don’t realise their own power’, he says. ‘They no longer have a representative.’

The film ends with a rallying cry for a return to socialist ideals, imploring senior citizens to speak to young people about the past, and their potential to effect change. The Spirit of ’45 is a film with a sense of its own importance; a film which begs to be seen. Sadly, with some cinema ticket prices pushing a tenner, most of the parents of the 3.6 million children living in poverty in the UK today will not be able to afford to see it.

The Mimic, which began last week on Channel 4, is a comedy with a rather interesting twist. The lead, Martin (Terry Mynott), has an uncanny ability for mimicry and can copy the voices of those he hears. This gives considerable scope for celebrity impressions, and the opening scene where he takes on Terry Wogan’s voice to liven up a traffic jam establishes the mild but persistent sort of humour in the show. 

Whilst rarely moved to audible laughter, when watching The Mimic I was consistently impressed by the peaceful and placid sense of humour the show has. Although many comedies feel the need to shock and maintain a fast pace, The Mimic takes a more gentle approach. The other characters support Martin very well, especially his friend and housemate Jean (Jo Hartley)who is whimsical yet natural enough to be believable, and Martin’s newly discovered son Steven (Jacob Anderson), who is again realistic yet interesting. 

The inclusion of more serious and less light-hearted storylines makes The Mimic an intriguing mixture of drama and comedy. We feel empathy and support for Martin, yet are not brought down to despair due to the interspersed impressions he does, which show that he is not necessarily taking things too seriously. With The Mimic there is a real danger that the impressions are not integrated with the action and become a rather obsolete or inappropriate addition to what is otherwise quite a serious programme. So far, this has been skilfully avoided, but I wonder how the show will cope with the later episodes once the initial premise has been fully introduced. 

So, despite the rather slow-building and gradual pace of The Mimic, I certainly enjoyed it and look forward to seeing how the essential comedy element; his ability to impersonate voices; is developed and given variety. 

Radio 1’s Scott Mills was in Oxford to talk about his work in Uganda regarding gay rights, reported by Cherwell. However, at Cherwell Music we couldn’t let an opportunity to talk shop with a Radio 1 veteran go to waste, Scott has been on Radio 1 for fifteen years!

Having worked on drive time, early breakfast and appeared in, more recently, ‘Scott Mill’s: The Musical’ Scott is perhaps better known for his chat than his interest in music. In response to a fellow interviewer’s ‘chat or music?’ question however, Mills admits he has “always loved music” but his job is about “creating your show and personality around that.” Although the musical freedom of a DJ at Radio 1 seems relatively limited it is apparently “more than most stations and if you really like something you can shout about it, get it heard, get it played!”

Although chat and “maintaining the personality aspect” seem to be the two key elements of Mills job, his interests definitely lie with the music, offering some interesting insights during our conversation into the state of pop. 

What he finds interesting is that, although the dominating genre in the charts seems to have been ‘pop urban’ for a long time, people are turning their heads back to guitars. “A couple of years ago on Radio 1, there wasn’t a hint of a guitar” professes Mills, but now the mainstream seems to be leaning back the other way, far earlier than Mills ever expected. 

When asked what he thought causes this sort of genre-shift, Mills seemed slightly perplexed, but opined that “if there’s enough good music about, people go for it.” The return of ‘guitar music’ seems a welcome one, using the example of UK garage being around ‘FOREVER’ as a negative, and David Guetta stuff that “everyone jumped on” a couple of years ago. While Mills by no means shows a hatred for artists such as David Guetta, Pit Bull and JLS, for “making the same songs” as they were “great for DJing as they’re all the same beat,” the monotony in playing the same material seems to have nearly taken its toll.

The return of the guitar that Mills described is not merely a personal opinion but highly evident throughout the popular press. Flick through any page of NME, and the evidence of guitar rock is definitely there, with bands such as Palma Violets and Tribes being championed. The return of Bowie and Brit-poppers Blur and Suede further reinforce guitar rock’s return to the mainstream. 

For Mills, the move from ‘drive time’ to the afternoon show on Radio 1 may have represented a slight shift from the mainstream, but one he relishes: “It’s a great time to be on, there’s no pressure and you can sort of do what you want.”

With his dry wit and likeable character, Mills was by no means a disappointment to meet. On being introduced as the “music expert” I confessed to a certain element of blagging which Mills replied with “don’t worry, so do I!” Continually modest, when asked whether it was a bit bizarre being asked questions when he was so used to being on the other side of the mike, Mills replies “I like it, I’m terrified at things like [the St Anne’s talk], there’s not as many people as on radio but I can see them all!”

One of Being Human’s great and revealing moments comes in series two, when touchy-feely ghost Annie attempts to hold a house meeting to talk about feelings. Werewolf George has infected and subsequently lost the love of his life, while vampire Mitchell is struggling to hold back a bloodbath of vampiric carnage in the wake of an abstinence attempt. Their solution to these heavy burdens? “We should get really drunk.” The domestic minutiae of their lives is so much more important to them than any supernatural trauma that it isn’t until BBC3 moves The Real Hustle to an unknown time slot that their angst really erupts.

When first conceived, Being Human was rather different in style – the story of a drug addict, agoraphobe and anger-management patient who attempt to overcome their issues by leading normal lives in a house together. Quickly the script was tweaked a little to involve a supernatural element, but Being Human was at its best where you could almost forget it was related to the fantasy genre. Its strength always lay in the little moments: the normal interaction that showed the relationships between the characters whilst demonstrating the inherent absurdity of a vampire, werewolf and ghost sharing a house in the South West. 

Yet as time went on the premise was diluted, and the show became something of a Poundland knock-off of True Blood or Buffy the Vampire Slayer, with shadowy corporations, prophecies, vampiric elders and messiahs that belied the early days of three people sitting in a house together drinking a hell of a lot of tea. Once initiated, the stakes (no pun intended) had to be raised every year. This didn’t make the show bad, mind you – merely less unique. As each character had their solo adventures, it also became less focused on the group dynamics, and the mythology of the series became less consistent (can vampires drink stored blood? Was werewolf blood always poisonous?) It seemed there was no going back, and once key cast members began leaving it appeared that Being Human was a spent force.

And yet, appropriately enough, the series rose again. Surviving its re-casting remarkably well compared to other shows, the series continued with new vampire-wolf duo Hal and Tom, and eventually replaced Annie with the less insipid Alex. In a house-share, it makes sense for people to move on, and it didn’t feel too tenuous for more supernaturals to join the crew (unlike in Misfits). The new dynamic worked, and the show culminated in a commendable finale with Phil Davis in his element as a devilish Daily Mail reader. It might have lacked the bombast of previous finales, but it emphasised the choice the three characters made to become human, even in their refusal of an easy humanity. The throwback to the previous series was a nice touch too, though perhaps a little too fleeting, and the final shot of the three housemates watching Antiques Roadshow together seemed to end the series on a soft note.

But then that reveal reminded viewers that Being Human always had a dark and unsettling side. The simple reuse of a significant camera angle and the little origami wolf in the final shot left the show on a brave and almost upsetting note of ambiguity: one that could explain some of the less plausible (relatively speaking) departures in the episode’s plot. It wasn’t a perfect end, but Being Human was never a perfect show. Really, this was probably the best way it could have gone out – not dead and buried, but alive and kicking.

★★★★☆
Four Stars

We’ve been eagerly looking forward to Daughter’s debut album ever since the trio’s stunning first EP, His Young Heart was released in April 2011. Elena Tonra’s hauntingly beautiful voice slicing through softly understated guitar quickly caused a media storm; and follow-up EP The Wild Youth only built on that success as stunningly tragic lyrics, married with an almost unbearable sadness evident in Tonra’s voice, found their way into our hearts.

One could have been forgiven for expecting Daughter to come out with an album full of plodding acoustic guitar and uninteresting if pitch-perfect vocals. But throughout If You Leave, the dynamic rises and falls, as Tonra’s voice dances between a powerful cry and a lingering, tentative sound filled with fragility. Despite this, the melancholy in If You Leave can seem somehow repetitive, though still profound. They filled four-track EPs beautifully; but on a full-length album, for all their efforts to find musical variation, Daughter occasionally seem like they’re covering old ground. This is only a rare occurrence though, and for the most part we engage and empathize with Daughter’s message. One moment, crashing cymbals and guitars rapidly gathering speed are threatening to drown out the vocals, such as on ‘Lifeforms’, inspiring feelings of suffocation and helplessness. The next, a single note cuts into our hearts and Tonra cries out through the silence in a voice filled with pain, pleading for an end to her suffering.

‘Youth’ is the only song to re-appear from the EPs, and slots in perfectly, a tragic lament for “lovers that went wrong”. Daughter don’t cheer up either, later pleading “Don’t bring tomorrow/cos I already know I’ll lose you” on ‘Tomorrow’, a highlight. The title If You Leave instantly conjures images of loss and hearbreak, and these are themed carried on throughout, with the music perfectly accompanying the heart-rending lyrics, such as on ‘Human’; every thumping drumbeat is like a shot to the heart and the persistent guitars add desperation to Tonra’s insistence that “despite everything I’m still human”. This is an album that will tug on your heartstrings so hard that they’ll threaten to break.