![]() ![]() ![]() The rest of the cast bring a vivacious energy - one scene involves a Bhangra version of My Old Man’s A Dustman, another sees a Morris dance weaving through the backstreets. With scuffed knees and a cardigan over her head Dhillon is the beating heart of the show - and one to watch out for in future. She has an extraordinarily charismatic singing voice, even when she’s putting on a stroppy teenager’s voice or singing in bumpkin Brummy. Very possibly, the superb central performance by Mandeep Dhillon is the reason why. In the second half it does try to gather itself into more of a plot - there's some stuff about a school being bulldozed and the rise of the local skinheads - but in truth it’s far better when it's ambling along with no particular place to go. These fragments flow into and interrupt each other, the way memories do, which only adds to the ragtag charm. Yet to it's credit, it’s not too polished or cheesy, and maintains a sense of Syal recounting hazily-remembered vignettes about farting grandmas and sneaking off to the fairground and innocently watching Top Of The Pops (before it was destroyed by paedogeddon). ![]()
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