Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * *
Cast: Kevin McNally, Robert Bathurst, Kevin Eldon, David Hayman, Mathew Horne, Timothy West, Tom Rosenthal, David Horovitch, William Andrews, Tracy Ann Oberman, Christopher Villiers, Simon Ludders, Sam Phillips, John Biggins, Julia Deakin, Jack Barry, Andrew Havill, Jerry-Jane Pears, Philip Pope, Gareth Ryan Benjamin, Tamzin Griffin, Lee Barnett, Thelma Ruby, Joann Condon.
The problem with nostalgia is that you have to judge perfectly whether it carries the same sense of perfection that Time has alluded to in your memory. There are few greater regrets than the one that is pushed forward by the emotion of fear, that the trepidation of losing something that has united a country in dark times can somehow lose its meaning when restored.
Time marches on, and nostalgia can either bind us with a vice like grip that is impossible to let go, or it can be seen as small stroll through the maddening gap that whimsy provides, and perhaps like the longing of those who saw the 2016 referendum on Europe as a chance to once more to delve into the imagined ideals of a fictionalised land of milk, honey and national heroism, aided by the face of arguably one of television’s finest comedies, the B.B.C. classic Dad’s Army.
Nostalgia, we all want to return to a time when we laughed out loud and were able to do so without a thought to why we were doing so, the trouble being is that whilst the original set of half hours created were undoubtedly incredible, the longing for the three episodes from series two that were lost in the usual off-hand way to which normally dogged the corporation in the 1960s and 70s is placed in a vacuum, one that sees a talented cast fall flat in the shadow of the equally gifted stars which graced the show formerly.
For however great an actor Kevin McNally is, for how Kevin Eldon, Robert Bathurst and Mathew Horne always portray their characters with sublime persuasion, to take on the identity of Captain Mainwaring, Sergeant Wilson, Lance-Corporal Jones and Private Walker is one that should have been left in the amber-like preserve of the period in which Dad’s Army made its name, the leftovers of nostalgia wearing thin as the jokes carefully crafted by the immense comedy minds of Jimmy Perry and David Croft lose something in the translation that the Missing Episodes provides.
The Loneliness Of The Long Distance Walker, A Stripe For Frazer and Under Fire still resonate if looked back upon as an art form to which can show the television viewer how good comedy comes to the screen in the first place, but as for bringing them into the modern arena, where the language and memory has been diluted down over time, phrases such as “Don’t Panic and Stupid Boy” are quite rightly now devoid of implication and worth.
An attempt to recapture something which once glistened beautifully is not always a good idea, Dad’s Army: The Missing Episodes is one to keep in reserve.
Ian D. Hall