The Wargame; Youth

“And so all of Michael Gove’s political ambitions have come to this: pretending to be the Prime Minister in a new reality show. His deputy is played by, of all people, Nicola Sturgeon. In The Wargame, which takes us through a series of fictional Cobra meetings, Britain is under attack from Russia, and they must decide what to do. If you had ever wondered how Prime Minister Gove would handle such a crisis, the answer is that he would behave with courtesy and calm and absolutely no appearance of urgency, as if he were dealing with a restaurant which had just told him that the halibut isn’t available today, sir, but would you care to choose the plaice or the Dover sole instead?”
Anita Singh, Telegraph

“When does a hostile act become an indisputable act of war? Can you hope for the best but prepare for the worst without giving the wrong signal to your enemies or your electorate? Can the electorate usefully be informed of anything in the social media age, or is everyone essentially a dysregulated toddler now? Can we depend on our allies? What about the one that is led by a dysregulated toddler now? Is there ever a point at which you have to stop thinking about optics and just do what you think best? Is there anyone left who can do that? All these big questions are interestingly gestured at. But of course the real entertainment – and The Wargame rapidly becomes almost too much fun for something resting on the threatened annihilation of millions – lies in seeing who works well on camera and who doesn’t, and, on that basis alone, working out who you would actually want in place when the motherfunking shit hits the motherfunking fan.”
Lucy Mangan, The Guardian

“The deadly serious tone stays throughout as the situation escalates into thriller land, no doubt to stop it feeling too much like Newsnight. The “capricious” president wades in on social media, the media rent-a-gob Anthony Scaramucci shows up as the US secretary of state (slightly threatening the illusion) and cruise missiles fly over London. By episode four it’s borderline bonkers (spoilers prevent specifics), a kind of reality Designated Survivor, the idea being to subject the participants to the most extreme test possible. Which as TV is, oddly, quite fun while being rather terrifying. Even then everyone plays it so straight you half-believe this outlandish parallel world. Which, if nothing else, is final proof that politicians really are actors. Even former politicians.”
James Jackson, The Times

“There’s a moment in Sharon Horgan’s new show, Youth, when – as protagonist Alex (Horgan) is seeing her son off to university – she inadvertently begins to run after the car that’s taking him away. And then she catches herself, and slows. And then she starts up again. It was such a tender, vicious glimpse into the future that I found myself sobbing into the sofa and cursing her name. All of which is to say: Sharon Horgan is back and she’s better than ever. Youth is the representation every woman who has ever slapped on an oestrogen patch after a divorce, looked around and thought “What the hell now?” has been waiting for.”
Lucy Mangan, The Guardian

“Perhaps you’re not in the market for comedies about women in their 50s, in which case give it a miss. I, on the other hand, went for dinner with a friend last night in a restaurant where we had to use our phone torches to read the menu; I spent this morning having physio for a frozen shoulder which my consultant kindly told me is something that afflicts women of a certain age. Youth isn’t quite on a par with Catastrophe – it’s more meandering and less laugh-out-loud funny – but for some of us it rings hilariously, despairingly true.”
Anita Singh, Telegraph

“The escapades fly along at a tidy 30 minutes an episode, sometimes filthy, sometimes cringe, but as with Catastrophe, always ringing truthful. Horgan has a way of nailing a very modern tension that exists between craving the freedom of youth while meeting the expectations and responsibilities that come with age. This isn’t just a sardonic dating comedy, it’s a painfully relatable portrait of midlife panic.”
James Jackson, The Times