More than meerkats
In the original BBC documentary Meerkats United, the programme makers introduced a delighted world to the rules of the game for these odd little beasts who live in the South African hills. Co-operation was all, apparently, in keeping the group working efficiently. In Meerkats Divided (Pearl, 9pm), it is a different story. Nearly a decade down the line, cracks are showing in the idyllic life of the meerkats, and wouldn't you just know it, much of the disharmony is down to a lead female called Brown Eyes.
The lead male, Nkosi, is a selfless, caring creature, but Brown Eyes is a snapping, brutal bully who torments the other females in the group in order to keep them in line.
Even Nkosi's calm is broken when an outsider, Bandit, arrives and begins to make advances to Brown Eyes. This is the good old BBC, and one wouldn't for a moment dare to accuse them of creating anthropomorphic cute little critters in Disney style, but the likeness to the script of a cheesy soap opera is remarkable and, worst of all, intended.
In prime time tonight upright military honour is put to the test on one side (Where Angels Dare, Pearl, 9.30pm) and out-of-control juvenile delinquents are on the other in Bad Boys (World, 9.30pm). Bad Boys was only Sean Penn's second feature film and already he had come up with a fair prototype of the odious, angry crazy role that has been the engine of his career. He used it to good effect in Casualties of War, and even in the so-called comedy We're No Angels, finally getting plaudits from all directions as the monster on death row in Dead Man Walking.
Perhaps he relies so heavily on scowling because, like Marlon Brando, he doesn't think acting is much of a profession for grown men. In his case, and even despite Dead Man Walking, most critics could only agree.
Rowan Atkinson, too, is an actor who relies on a performance perfected early in his career. On screen he has two personas, the one he portrays in This Thin Blue Line (Pearl, 1.25am) as Raymond, a clueless but sarcastic uniform inspector in charge of a police station peopled with an assortment of comedy stereotypes (frustrated middle-aged woman, bull-headed Cockney detective, weedy male constable and tough-girl WPC), and Mr Bean. Raymond is not a million miles away from Blackadder, but he is none the worse for that as Blackadder transformed (over the centuries anyway). Why not a fifth generation as a 1990s policeman? It may be a limited range but Atkinson has stretched it almost beyond the bounds of belief with astonishing commercial, if not critical, success, which has made him probably the best-paid funny man in Britain.
He only made 13 episodes of Mr Bean, but those 13 have been seen in 94 countries, on the inflight channels of 50 different airlines, and sold 6.5 million videos. The new Mr Bean full-length feature film - Bean: The Ultimate Disaster Movie - recouped production costs of GBP8 million (HK$99 million) in the first three weeks on showings in Australia alone. Laugh? All the way to the bank.
Look closely when watching the late movie Loose Connections tonight (World 12.45am) for a very funny cameo by Robbie Coltrane, the large Scot who returns to our screens next week in Cracker. It isn't a large role, but Coltrane is a large enough actor to make it memorable.
This is one of those glorious British movies that mocks Britishness by putting the characters in an unfamiliar, preferably foreign, setting. In this one, Sally (Lindsay Duncan) is a militant feminist looking for someone to share a car ride to Munich. She advertised for someone vegetarian, gay and fluent in German, and somehow gets Harry (Stephen Rea) who is none of them.
