Downing Street parties
Covid drama
Hot on the heels of the drama about the Post Office scandal, comes one about the Covid pandemic. 
Breathtaking is based on the book by Dr Rachel Clarke which I reviewed during the crisis, and Rachel herself worked with the brilliant Jed Mercurio and Prasanna Puwanarajah (two doctors turned TV writers) to create this series – three powerful episodes. She cried writing it; she cried making it; she cried watching it. Small wonder. The scenes she witnessed, the emotions she experienced in real life, will be forever etched in her memory. I can only dimly imagine the pain of reliving the pandemic this intensely.
For us the programme is raw and unflinching in its portrayal of the horror. Much of it is seen through the eyes of consultant Abbey Henderson, (played by Joanne Froggatt, best known as a maid in Downton Abbey) a young mother of two, who gives her all to patients and staff, all the while knowing her best simply isn’t good enough in these unprecedented circumstances. Because …
..there simply aren’t enough staff to cope with the overwhelming deluge of sick people;
..protective equipment is inadequate and in short supply;
..front line staff are using bin-liners and visors made my schoolchildren;
..care has to be rationed, decisions made about who lives or dies;
..death statistics are astronomical;
..triaging is ineffective;
..colleagues are dying;
..testing kits aren’t available;
..there is no vaccine, no cure;
..relatives are excluded;
..bad news has to be given over the phone;
..government reports and advice don’t match what’s happening at the coalface;
..false reassurances are being issued by the political and medical leaders;
..terrible decisions are being made with dire consequences;
..guidelines and policies, both local and national, simply don’t square with clinical assessment.
On and on it goes, wall-to-wall catastrophe, tragedy, disaster.
The drama certainly brings to life the terrible burden on NHS staff, exhausted and crushed by the horrors they are seeing daily, the terror of the unknown, but it captures too the beautiful moments where human empathy and sensitivity shine through the despair – a doctor playing his violin for a dying patient; rules being bent to allow a young mother to see her two little girls one last time; distraught staff hugging each other on the changing room floor; staff lining up in the corridors in silent tribute to a dead colleague.
It traces the disastrous decisions made by the government, rendered the more vivid and poignant by footage of the actual briefings and the real politicians and advisors we remember all too vividly standing at those podiums, giving false information, obfuscating, trotting out platitudes. Who can ever forget the Barnard Castle scandal? Or the prime minister proudly commending himself for shaking hands with patients and staff indiscriminately, and going without a mask? Or those photos of partying in Downing Street? Coming as it does after the massive coverage relating to the Covid Inquiry and the exposure of political failures and abuses, it’s hard to watch again the false information and hypocritical assurances about ‘protective rings’ and ‘doing all in our power’ and relaxing lockdown for Christmas. Harder still now we know those making the rules were flouting them brazenly themselves, taking the public for fools.
Emotional viewing but spectacularly effective filming. And something of Rachel Clarke’s own humanity and empathy is embedded in it. This drama must surely win prizes and be a catalyst for change. The official Inquiry is supposed to help us learn lessons for future pandemics, but at times it has degenerated into farce. Perhaps bringing the reality into the lives and living rooms of the public through a TV programme will be a more effective instrument in minimising the mistakes and protecting people in the future. We can only hope so.