The 50 Best TV Shows of 2021, #1: It’s a Sin | the television

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How was it possible to enjoy “It’s a Sin”, knowing what would happen? Russell T Davis’ great skill was to make it look like it would be impudent not to. It might have been reasonable to expect a certain amount of solemnity from this five-part drama about the arrival of AIDS in Britain and the devastation it has wreaked, but perhaps less predictable was the angry joy and beauty in it. It hurt and it was horrible, but oh my god, it was funny and it was so full of life.

The story gathered a group of young men in the flat engagement that became known as the “Pink Mansion,” under the able watch of a generation of the mother of the house type (Lydia West). At the heart of this troupe was Richie (Olli Alexander Years and Years, back in his earlier acting career), a bright-eyed dreamer who arrived in London to become an actor. Colin, a sweet walking Anorak man, eventually traded his suburban digs for a room in the house; And Roscoe (Omari Douglas), a stinging-tongued queen who raves from a meal with his traditional Nigerian family in unparalleled style, eventually finds himself at the heart of the British establishment, in a roundabout way.

Like most of Davis’ shows, from the groundbreaking Queer As Folk to Nostradamus-esque Years and Years, he bounced back to the challenge, the humor that made his darkest moments even more heart-warming. Richie and Roscoe discover a lively gay scene in the city’s bars and clubs, bringing the party home with them while they learn about sex by getting plenty of it. (A scene in the first episode, where Ritchie learns about sexual hygiene, is quietly felt by the revolution.) Colin finds a different side of gay life, at first, through his classmate Henry, an older man who lives with his partner in the shadows and tries not to rock the boat.

Henry disappears first, with the arrival of a mysterious new disease, hitting a now-familiar wall of fear, denial and misinformation. Disappearances continue. Friends from the scene “go home” to their families and never come back, lost to what relatives might decide to call cancer. In March 2020, former Conservative MP Ann Wydecombe wrote a column in the Daily Express suggesting that AIDS was one of a number of frightening epidemics that had not “proven to be as devastating as feared”. Although the series finished filming prior to the current pandemic, it is a response to this distasteful notion. The sheer waste of lives is devastating.

It’s a sin that deals with complex ideas as well, which made it a talking point. As the title makes clear, it brings up notions of gay shame and pride for discussion – this complex mixture of ego and self-loathing – as Ritchie first denied AIDS, arguing that it was a tool of oppression used by authorities to prevent gay men from having sex. sex. Eventually the conversation moves to his adorable mother Kelly Howes, who fights her and Jill to the end, when they both break, in different ways. The idea of ​​family looms large here, both specific and chosen. The Pink Palace Family was chosen, right down to “No!” that unite them. Roscoe rejects his real family before they can reject him, but later finds reconciliation with his sister. Coleen’s mother knows nothing of his life until he is beaten up and meaningless in a hospital bed, in some of the show’s most painful scenes, but finds solace in his friends who stick around. And the Ritchie family—his disapproving father and his cruel, fragile mother—inspires rage and cruelty, but crucially, humanity as well. They love their son, and losing him will kill them.

It is a sin full of humanity. It should have been. Mistakes happen because that’s what people do. Ritchie makes big mistakes, from his refusal to take a test and his self-destructive promiscuity, even when he knows the cost, but also small mistakes, like his grim attempt to seduce an old friend at school, to making himself feel better. . Judgment is mostly absent, reserved for those who deserve it. Institutional mistakes, a deliberate refusal to get involved in what happened, rather than personal mistakes, are the sources of outrage.

This was a TV full of energy and vitality. This does not mean that she failed to take her subject seriously enough. It’s a sin that was super annoying, as it was meant to be, and Davis made us love these characters and flaws and all, before he took them away. I cried at the end of the first episode knowing what was going to happen, and I cried as it happened over and over again. The sobering effects of this historical piece came quickly: requests for HIV tests soared, and a large sum of money was raised for the Terrence Higgins Trust by selling a T-shirt bearing the word “La.” Its actors and creator spoke about people whose memories the show drew from; Young people told stories they did not know. Activists discussed and argued its finer points. Those who died of AIDS are memorialized. Sometimes television is more than just telling stories, even if storytelling is all it strives for. How was it possible to enjoy it? Because even though we knew some of these guys wouldn’t survive, Davis made us care deeply about their lives. Even in their most flawed and infuriating state, we were ready for them to live.

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