Dancing on the Edge episode 1

[shallowness]

Chiweitel Ejiofor is just about charismatic enough not to let Matthew Goode grab all the attention as the author-self-insert half of the multi-racial bromance at the heart of the story of a black jazz band trying to make it in 1930s London. Ewejofor is Louis, band leader and pianist, English-born and thus not subject to the constant threat of deportation that the rest of the musicians face. However, he faces plenty of discrimination. And mostly puts a calm face on as he deals with it.

But Goode’s cheeky chappy with a finger in every pie going, Stanley, a music journalist who thinks big, gets Louis and band a gig that becomes regular – if they hire a singer. They get two (and what great voices these actresses have. I’m already tempted by this soundtrack) one of whom is Gwen from Merlin (cue a meta? Arthur reference) and the other Wunmi Mosaky who was new on me, but such a gorgeous face. The male band members don’t stick out apart from the loose cannon manager Wesley, who got to be called ‘idiot’ the most by me.

The band and Stanley come into the orbit of some strange posh people, from Anthony Head’s jazz aficionado (his status seemed mysterious: his daughter Pamela glided about like a spoiled doll and had a companion in Sarah – Janet Montgomerie playing a far more sympathetic character than she did in Spies of Warsaw, but his son had what seemed like a servile job and the family’s connection to the Imperial Hotel was never made clear) to John Goodman’s even more mysterious American jazz aficionado (trashes hotel rooms, has an unsavoury relationship with a bright young thing who seems scared, holds extravagant and long parties on trains), some of whom have connections with the masons. Oh, and two princes appear to lech over the singers (who seem to have their heads screwed on right. It has to be said that every time the camera was on these two ladies, it seemed to think it was their show) and applaud the band.

It’s sumptuously shot with a good looking and good cast. At the same time, the band and tagalong journalist that wants to make it big isn’t exactly a new story – although the show is serious about tackling racism in that place and time. The episode started in 1933, with Louis bleeding and in trouble, and a tension between him and Stanley that isn’t there 18 months before which the episode goes back to, so there’s that mystery. There are also lots of young people making eyes at each other (some, like Stanley/Pamela, making a little more) but with some of them being white and some black, some rich and some not, you suspect it’s not going to end well. Especially when there’s also some rich older white male gazing going on too. The episode didn’t end well for Wesley, in point of fact. So, I’m in, but I’m not wholly gripped.