For a long time, I have been closely associated with Dawn French.
I say 'closely associated' but I don't want anybody to think I'm name dropping. I've never actually met Dawn, and I would hate anyone, least of all her, to think I am inappropriately name-dropping.
But Google my real name, and you are confronted with very many Vicar of Dibley references. One Comic Relief night I was curled up on my sofa, and the Lovely Dawn came on, dressed in a identical pair of pyjamas to those I was wearing.
However, I have decided that I am no longer in my Dawn French phase. I want to be Jennifer Saunders. I want to be scary. And in a few years I want to be Sue Johnston.
The first episode of Jam and Jerusalem looked promising. League of Gentlemen for middle-aged women. And why not! Oh, Joanna Lumley is really quite gorgeous in it (I'm kidding...!). It remains to be seen whether subsequent episodes manage to run with the ball or peter off in a damp squib. It probably won't appeal to achingly-trendy cutting-edge emotionally-illiterate culturally-vacuumed twenty-somethings, but frankly who gives a toss when the whole of the rest of the media is given over disproportionately to this group, not because of their taste and judgement, but because of their utter gullibility to the advertising and the fake lifestyle it pimps. I mean, who would aspire to the Ladies League, or want to live in Clatterford St Mary any more than they would in Royston Vasey?
One of the many nice things about getting older is that I no longer watch TV drama (or sitcom) through aspirational eyes, but objectively enjoying the portrayal of alien yet spookily familiar characters. Back in the days, one was supposed to declare which member of the 'Friends' or 'Sex in the City' cast one most resembled. As if those shallow cretins were something to look up to...I mean, honestly. There's no one in Jam and Jerusalem to aspire to. Except Jennifer Saunders. And Sue Johnson. Oh, and I suppose, Joanna Lumley, too.
