details about adultery, promiscuity, and money?
Such is the fate that befalls the hapless Maggie Cole (French), a jolly “local historian” in the ancient coastal
settlement of Thurlbury and “keeper of the keep” as she puts it – which is to say she runs a gift shop in
some medieval ruin. She’s married to the local headmaster, is the local gossip and a bit of a local celebrity,
or so she likes to think. A bit of a treasure really; the pillar of the community; a bit Vicar of Dibley, you
might say.
Then... Maggie receives a random call from a local radio reporter who tells her he wants to know all about
the village’s celebrations for its 500th anniversary. They arrange to meet in a pub. Rather early in the day, it
must be said, the reporter Jez (Macmillan) plies Maggie with a series of hefty gin and tonics, and records
every word she says. Inevitably she can’t help herself from spilling the beans on everyone in the village,
never thinking for a moment that Jez would actually use the material. He has, of course, failed to follow the
correct protocol of explaining what was for broadcast and what was not.
Over-excited, over-confident and deluded about the success of “the interview”, which is on a near-Prince
Andrew scale, Maggie throws a great big barbecue party for everyone she knows and loves. They gather
around the radio, with prosecco and sausage rolls in hand, and then... it goes a bit ghastly. The indiscretions
are manifold and colourfully expressed.
Her best friend Jill Wheadon (Hesmondhalgh) is going to succeed Maggie’s own beloved husband Peter
(Heap) as headteacher, but “let’s just say she’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer”. The village GP
(Pandya), the radio tells her and all her patients, just lets her guy go off on “business trips” at the weekend
so he can conduct a gay affair; the Polish shopkeeper’s daughter sleeps around; another couple in the village
have (supposedly) won the lottery but sneakily not told anyone; the resident famous novelist is a bit of a
fraud, and on and on it goes until Maggie’s son literally pulls the plug.
Hesmondhalgh is especially good as Maggie’s betrayed, belittled and verbally brutalised (former) BFF. It
reminds me of the scene in Trainspotting when Spud tries to dispose of a soiled bedsheet but instead ends
up splattering the contents around his girlfriend’s parents’ living room. Everyone is covered in... brown
embarrassment.
And that is that for the first episode, with a trailer at the end that gives clues to what’s to come for the
second episode. Maggie and her family will attempt to reverse Maggie’s self-inflicted social ex-
communication. In the process, the hint is, Maggie, will also learn a bit more of the truth about her fellow
villagers, as opposed to her gossipy guesswork.
I’d hope that she, as well as all of us, find out a little more about the mysterious motives of Jez, who seems
to be a bit too calculatingly venal, even for a contemporary British journalist. I suppose the great irony of
this skillful takedown of the gossip is that it invites the viewer to pry into the private lives of complete
strangers, and entirely fictitious ones at that. Of course, we do that all the time; but at least The Trouble with
Maggie Cole makes you reflect a little on such bad habits.
I’m ashamed to say that I do want to know about the GP’s straying husband, the Polish family and the
couple who’ve suddenly and mysteriously acquired an expensive classic sports car. What is going on in the
doctor’s marriage that we’re not aware of? Maybe Julie isn’t as dim as she seems? Perhaps that young couple
have another explanation for driving a 1984 Lotus Esprit (and some of us would say they’d need a damn
good reason in any circumstances, as it isn’t the best of classic choices). As you can tell, I’ve got a few ideas
of my own about that lot down in Thurlbury. But, I’m not one to gossip you know.