Debates will continue as to whether or not British television's current output is better than that from days gone by. What is beyond dispute is that the television play, which allowed so many writers to truly express themselves and which littered the schedules prior to the mid-1980s, is now given little exposure. In the modern world with a multitude of channels all vying for attention and remote controls allowing the viewer to flick between them with the minimum of effort, few network controllers would take a gamble on broadcasting something composed of long, dialogue-heavy scenes featuring relatively undynamic characters that viewers are not already familiar with. Which is a shame, as master writers can produce the most electric dramas just through dialogue, and not through gimmicks such as fast-cutting between scenes, or by having characters shed their clothes or come to blows, or trying to make the viewer jump.
The Arcata Promise is a classic case in point, hailing from 1974 when it was originally broadcast as part of ITV's Sunday Night Drama strand. The situation is simple: a once-successful middle-aged man reflecting on the breakdown of a relationship with a young woman he loved. The action is confined to his squalid bedsit (and, through flashbacks, his previous and rather more lavish home). And despite a run-time of 90 minutes, there are just three actors in it. Of course, it helps if the players are able to do the material justice and all three deliver sublime performances.
Anthony Hopkins, in the main role, is the actor who promised to love and cherish the new woman in his life (The 'Arcata Promise' of the title) but who failed to keep it, his habitual inebriation causing him to be blunt and unsympathetic, and revealing just how self-pitying he really is. Kate Nelligan, still in the early stages of her screen career, excels as his suffering partner. Many's the drama where the girl leaves the man because of his drunkenness, but this is written by the accomplished (and acclaimed) David Mercer and so the dynamics within the relationship are rather more nuanced than that; the man is not actually an alcoholic, nor is the drunkenness the real reason she's leaving him.
Then there's the third element, the almost random factor affecting the dynamic, a man called Tony (portrayed by John Fraser, who already had a wealth of acting experience by this point) who enters the man's life when he's at his lowest ebb and tries to galvanise him into positive action.
I won't say how it all plays out because discovering that is one of the delights of watching The Arcata Promise. I did find the device of the main character having conversations with himself a little awkward and off-putting at first, but that was the only detraction from what was an absorbing piece of television. The dialogue, combined with the performances of the cast, make for very believable and three-dimensional characters. Television today often tries to emulate the cinema, yet as this drama demonstrates, it can be at its best when it tries to emulate theatre instead.
The Arcata Promise is a classic case in point, hailing from 1974 when it was originally broadcast as part of ITV's Sunday Night Drama strand. The situation is simple: a once-successful middle-aged man reflecting on the breakdown of a relationship with a young woman he loved. The action is confined to his squalid bedsit (and, through flashbacks, his previous and rather more lavish home). And despite a run-time of 90 minutes, there are just three actors in it. Of course, it helps if the players are able to do the material justice and all three deliver sublime performances.
Anthony Hopkins, in the main role, is the actor who promised to love and cherish the new woman in his life (The 'Arcata Promise' of the title) but who failed to keep it, his habitual inebriation causing him to be blunt and unsympathetic, and revealing just how self-pitying he really is. Kate Nelligan, still in the early stages of her screen career, excels as his suffering partner. Many's the drama where the girl leaves the man because of his drunkenness, but this is written by the accomplished (and acclaimed) David Mercer and so the dynamics within the relationship are rather more nuanced than that; the man is not actually an alcoholic, nor is the drunkenness the real reason she's leaving him.
Then there's the third element, the almost random factor affecting the dynamic, a man called Tony (portrayed by John Fraser, who already had a wealth of acting experience by this point) who enters the man's life when he's at his lowest ebb and tries to galvanise him into positive action.
I won't say how it all plays out because discovering that is one of the delights of watching The Arcata Promise. I did find the device of the main character having conversations with himself a little awkward and off-putting at first, but that was the only detraction from what was an absorbing piece of television. The dialogue, combined with the performances of the cast, make for very believable and three-dimensional characters. Television today often tries to emulate the cinema, yet as this drama demonstrates, it can be at its best when it tries to emulate theatre instead.