Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * *
Cast: Tuppence Middleton, Lenora Crichlow, Michael Smiley, Ian Bonar, Elisbeth Hopper, Nick Ofield.
The world of Charlie Brooker’s Black Mirror takes a look at the dystopian future of voyeurism and the gratified spectacle of continued mob justice through the almost incestuous and baying eyes of television.
White Bear is the antidote to any viewer who may have been under the misapprehension that the previous week’s offering was in anyway diluted because of the very nature of love was at its heart. What better way to get rid of any feelings of nagging heartache than by watching a young lady slowly reach breaking point as all around her are filming her every move.
Although there were a lot of extras within the one hour programme, the two lead women of the story, Tuppence Middleton and Lenora Crichlow, both fabulous actors had differing aspects to the way their characters were treated by the script. Lenora Crichlow gave a superb performance as the young woman waking up in a strange house with people all around her seemingly oblivious to the horrifying nature of her plight whilst Tuppence Middleton, a very skilful actor with a very bright future infront of her, was reduced to being the modern day clichéd female avenger, it just didn’t feel as though she was given the scope to really capture the screen.
The difference between the first two episodes couldn’t be more startling, both visions of a society that has gone off a tangent to our own are in layman’s terms quite possible; however the thought of an audience and programme makers making an entertainment show at the continued psychological suffering of a human being leaves a bitter taste in the mouth, even if they have committed the most awful of crimes and should be punished accordingly.
Where White Bear was clever though was to show the programme as a continuous piece, an ever rolling day by day film, long after the final credits for White Bear were running, the ever increasing disregard for Lenora Crichlow’s character continued over and over again.
A real disturbing piece by Charlie Brooker, a vision of a society that is probably a lot closer to the way we live than anyone would ever care to admit.
Ian D. Hall