Review for Village Hall: The Complete Series 2

I like the idea of ‘Village Hall’ more than I like the series. Or so it would seem watching the second (and last) series of this drama anthology. The conceit is … well, a village hall where each episode an entirely one-off, self-contained drama episode unfolds. The only continuity or connection is … the village hall. It’s not even the same hall, just the concept of a hall.


Like all drama anthologies the results are highly variable. Unfortunately, in Series 2 none of the ‘plays’ on offer quite ignites. It’s as if the very idea of a village hall is a bit dreary and so, therefore, are the drama that unfold under its roof. Which is not to say that it’s a bad series, rather one that feels a bit lacklustre, often delivered with the gentle nudging humour that a lesser play (an am-dram perhaps playing such a hall) might elicit.


There are a few chuckles to be had. Indeed, the set opens rather well, arguably peaking in episode one with an ensemble cast gathering for a local beauty and talent competition. (‘Miss Health and Beauty’). Recognisable faces include a very youthful looking Zoe Wannamaker as well as a host of other marginal, yet recognisable faces.


In truth, I was looking forward to the episode featuring John Le Mesuerier, especially as he is featured so prominently on the cover. However, the play he is in, whilst comfortably humourous in its way (a gardening competition with lots of bossy characters ‘contributing’ to the day) is a lesser piece than the first and which rather sets the tone for those that follow. It all washes over you in a painless way but then so does so much television. To purchase a DVD you really want something a little bit special.


Though these episodes certainly fit in the drama window, they’re nowhere near as heavy as ‘Play for Today’ or ‘Armchair Theatre’. They’re light and gently comedic in tone. So in addition to the beauty competition, a gardening contest we also get two love rivals desperate to out-do one another in pie-making; a German Brass band visiting (with all the racial stereo-typing you would expect for the period), and the poignant final reunion of a wartime battalion.


Some of the writing credits might raise an eyebrow. Kenneth Cope, at best a slightly hammy actor best known for ‘Randall and Hopkirk Deceased’ turns in an episode, as do playwright proper Peter Terson, comedy dramatist Donald Churchill and Harry Kershaw and Tim Aspinall, perhaps best known for contributions to Corrie.


Airing in 1975 there are frequent saucy jokes and suggestive comments; this was clearly intended solely for the grown-ups. Despite its vintage, and being filmed on video in the main (for the studio pieces), it looks in good shape if a little washed out, in common with broadcast video of the period.


There may be those who remember one or more of these episodes with nostalgic fondness and for them, its availaibiity will be a treat (thanks to Network’s relentless work in releasing what some may see as the unreleasable for which we should all be incredibly grateful). However, though I certainly didn’t dislike the series, it didn’t really float my boat either.