Life On Mars
IT’S A FLARE COP!
It’s the surprise hit of the first quarter of 2006 – Tom Fletcher looks back at Life on Mars
The great thing about the BBC in the last couple of years has been their willingness to cast the net wider when it comes to programme ideas. While there are still too many run of the mill shows and episodes of EastEnders, at least the Corporation is trying to create interesting new series as well. At a time when every serious drama on ITV seems to be a `psychological` one that always reaches a melodramatic conclusion this is good news. Perhaps the most surprising series to have emerged from this new boldness is Life on Mars. The cynic might say that it ticks all the 2006 boxes – sci-fi flavoured on the back of the success of the revived Doctor Who? Yes. Unanswered questions allowing for many thousands of hours of internet speculation as with Lost? Check. A cop show in the end, despite its sci-fi trappings? Of course. Set in 1973 to fulfil the current decades’ seemingly unquenchable demand for nostalgia? Well, check those flares. Yet Life on Mars is much more than that; it takes an archetypal situation – stranger in a strange land – and not only manages to maintain the mystery but allows room for humour and cultural referencing as well. In other words it’s smart but also entertaining. It’s a weird dilemma but we’re allowed to enjoy it too; oddly enough the new Patrick Stewart vehicle that started around the same time and that was deadly serious and therefore stupefyingly dull.
Detective Inspector Sam Tyler (John Simm), a modern copper with values to match, is hit by a car while out working in Manchester in 2006 and wakes up in 1973 to find he’s been seconded on the squad run by DCI Gene Hunt (Philip Glenister) who is basically your basic unreconstructed 70s bloke. Hunt embodies the 70s as much as Pink Floyd or loon pants and is basically the opposite of everything that Tyler is; as the writers have said and as the character himself declares he is `the sheriff` of the place. One of the best parts of the show is seeing how they get on, or often don’t. Hunt’s questioning of suspects borders on interrogation and Tyler seems to get more results with his methods, which Hunt begins to give room to. The relationship between them is marvellously played and written as they seem to spend half their time hitting each other or about to hit each other but a grudging mutual respect emerges as the series progresses and they learn things from each one another partly because they do have similarities and both would be bored doing a more ordinary job. That serves the last episode well when Tyler is faced with an agonising choice.
With the different clothes, no computers or anything modern, not the mention the rather robust, gloriously un pc methods that his colleagues utilise in order to fight crime, Tyler is more lost than you would probably be if you did find yourself on a tropical island with polar bears. He half tries to fit in- Simm shows great timing when he has to check himself every time he tries to do or say something that’s 2006 and also tries to integrate some contemporary methods into 70’s policing. He gains the trust of WPC Annie Cartwright (Liz White) who is refreshingly open to his ideas seeing as she’s a psychology graduate and he’s the only one of the team who takes her seriously. He also gets on well with the youngest DC Chris Skelton (Marshall Lancaster) though he finds it confusing, saying at one point: “I don’t underestimate you boss, I just don’t understand you.” The main conflict comes between Tyler and DS Ray Carling (Dean Andrews). Tyler’s initial attempts to orientate himself result in some funny lines, such as when he ass about a “PC terminal” and someone thinks he’s referring to an officer or when he says “I need my mobile” and another character replies “Your mobile what?”
For the younger viewer its quite interesting to see just how grim some aspects of life were in the 1970s, with strikes and urban estates that seem worlds away from the changing inner cities of 2006. The palette of the production is resolutely drab from the police station to people’s homes; even the garish 70s wallpaper seems drab while the cars are Ford Cortinas and their ilk. Only men drink in pubs, which, like the police station, are constantly wreathed in cigarette smoke. Interestingly too, there is very little forensics and the police seem at times to be more of a bludgeoning tool than anything. Even identity parades were more basic, as Tyler finds out after reassuring a witness there would be protective glass so the criminal won’t be able to see him. That’s not how it turns out! What we do get to see are some car chases, the sort of thing that has come to epitomise 70s cop shows like The Sweeney. Somehow though they seem less stylised than when you see those old series now, which is in itself an interesting comparison between the way tv shows were made in the different eras.
While there is a police type of story each episode, things gradually become more entangled as Tyler attempts to find answers and inevitably meets his mother and father who of course are younger than he is! As an often sinisterly played backdrop to each episode the wider mystery of why or how he is here plays out. These are very well directed moments, with disembodied voices seemingly from the future playing out of radios or odd hallucinations involving the Test Card girl of all things or when he experiences sinister flashbacks. Tyler seems to realise he is here for a reason and yet we haven’t so far discovered what it is, though in the last episode he thinks he had to stop his father from leaving the family. Naturally all of this has inspired a number of theories as to what is happening and is great for pub discussions though the series is in no hurry to tell us, even though Tyler himself lists the possibilities in the opening credits. The most popular explanations are that he is in a coma; the voices he hears seem to relate directly to his medical condition. This theory sat fine till SFX magazine conjectured that he could be making the voices up to rationalise what’s happening to him. He might have really time travelled of course, though that inevitably leads to the question of how he’s managed? One suggestion is that he could just be mad, having been hit on the head in the accident he is dreaming all this or even living in an asylum thinking he’s in 1973 (like that Buffy episode where it seems she has been in an institution all the time). Tyler’s dilemma and the fact that an everyman actor like John Simm is playing the part means that we can identify with his angst and that makes the occasional more emotional moment extremely effective.
The series was seven years in gestation and therefore the scripts are consistently strong and remain rooted in characters that we can get to know rather than bothering with an sci-fi nonsense. In some ways we would all like the opportunity to go back and see bits of our past again and perhaps this explains the show’s broad appeal. Very good ratings for a Monday evening slot ensured a second series, which will be shown next year and the dvd is out in May. You should buy the latter and make sure you watch the former because this is a series that has hit so many targets that you can’t help but enjoy it.
Case Notes by John Connors
Episode 1:
Offers a direct comparison between current and 70s police methods; we see the ultra modern office where Tyler is based in 2006 and the process he goes through interviewing s suspect who is accompanied by a psychiatrist, lawyer and social worker at the interview! Contrast this with the interview from 1973 in which a witness, never mind a suspect, is bundled into the stationery store and treated with no courtesy and considerable intimidation. Yet there are clues to suggest that Tyler may fit in eventually in the old days; “you used to believe in gut feelings” his girlfriend tells him at one point and a bit later he says “what use are feelings in this room?” The parallels set up in the story make it more riveting that if Tyler had just been dumped; there’s the `Life on Mars` song playing on his ipod in 2006 then on his old car radio as soon as he wakes in 1973. There’s the connection between the crimes wherein he realises what is happening in 2006 when he investigates the crime in 1973.
Of course the series riffs strongly on the fact that any era seems odd when you’re not in it. If you’re taking it all in you’ll start to find that Tyler’s contemporary references do start to sound odd, such as when he tries to call Virgin Mobile (“don’t you start that sexy business with me” admonishes the operator!). John Simm tackles what is a difficult situation with considerable skill; he is so well cast for this possessing enough blunt everyman qualities to allow Tyler to convincingly survive in the macho world of 73 yet sensitive and sometimes panicky enough to reflect both 21st century paranoia and sheer bewilderment at what’s happened. There is also the genius idea of the WPC who’s studied psychology; this allows Tyler to tells us what he’s really thinking. Perhaps the script’s strongest suit though comes in those occasional moments of surrealness, particularly when a television presenter starts talking to him as if looking down at his real self, presumably in a coma. And, of course, there’s the first sparks of the stormy working relationship with Gene Hunt, brilliantly portrayed by Philip Glenister. “I need a drink” an exasperated Tyler declares to which Hunt replies; “That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said since you got here”. It’s difficult to imagine anyone who saw this not wanting to watch the next episode.
Episode 2:
“You have the right to remain silent….” Tyler begins to tell a suspect. “You’re nicked” sums up Hunt. This episode plays up the sparring between the two men yet also shows the strengths and weaknesses of both of them. When Tyler persuades Hunt to let a suspect go because of lack of evidence, that same man then ends up carrying out another crime during which a friendly cleaner at the police station is seriously injured. Matthew Graham doesn’t make anything cut and dried though; in fact while Hunt and the rest of the team blame Tyler, it was the police presence there that led to the shooting. In the end it is Tyler who organises them to catch the criminal yet Hunt who saves his life with a handy punch. That both men’s policing styles complement each other is made obvious and its interesting to observe the reactions of some of their colleagues; Ray Carling sneers and mocks Tyler and when the latter is finally invited to the cards table at the end, walks away. Chris Skelton seems to trust him, yet isn’t clear exactly why. This episode also contains some of the most frivolous and disturbing bits. As far as the former is concerned, the punch up between Tyler and Hunt at the hospital is virtually a cartoon. If you want spooky then you’ve got the appearance of the life size Test Card girl in Tyler’s flat which could become something of an iconic telly moment, especially as she seems to give a clue as to what is happening. “Isn’t it better here, where you can be really busy?” she asks him. Plenty of quips of course and when Tyler suggests the station is “like Guantanemo Bay”, Hunt does not agree; “It’s nothing like Spain!”
Episode 3:
plays further on the different approaches of Tyler’s logic and Hunt’s instinct. Trying to stay strong in 1973 because he thinks it will help get him back, Tyler tackles a case of apparent murder in a tinderbox tense mill with enough zeal to inspire Hunt to lay on a bet as to whether his choice of suspect is right. Hunt’s maxim that the first person to speak is guilty seems wild card, but apparently has worked many times. Tyler meanwhile is busy with blood samples, profiling and trying to get to know about the people at the factory. Of course part of this is because the venue is where his flat will be in 2006 and there’s a bittersweet moment when he both admires the fighting qualities of the factory workers who are desperate to keep their jobs while at the same time he knows full well the place closes and is re-developed in the future. Matthew Graham’s script is whip sharp and he demonstrates the dedication of and siege mentality felt by 70s trade unions very well. He also gives us plenty of wry laughs and helps make Hunt a little more likeable than he is in the first two episodes. “You’re not giving me stuff to read” he bemoans at one point when Tyler proffers another report and the cocky rivalry with the CPS is played for laughs. Its also the episode where Tyler starts to feel more at home in his predominantly red brick and beige surroundings and it seems that he isn’t immune to Hunt’s influence; witness the lovely opening scene where he is confident in his skin and even uses Hunt’s “stamp on your toys” expression. Of course that Test Card girl isn’t far away and yet this time she seems more evil than before encouraging Tyler to “just sleep….forever” with a bit of a spine chilling sneer about her.
The plot seems to tread familiar territory as Graham plays with the old loyal Dad protecting tearaway son routine but delivers a double barrel conclusion when it turns out the `murder` was an accident but the real crime is a planned wages snatch. This doesn’t actually make a lot of sense but there’s a tense shoot-out with a waggish undercurrent. Lots more going on besides- they really do pack the hour with stuff- and Tyler gets the best line describing an attempt at an artists impression of a suspect as having “hamster cheeks, a nose like Audrey Hepburn’s and two foot of forehead!”
Episode 4:
in which Sam meets his mum but that’s really a side story compared to his attempt to stand up to a local businessman called Warren who appears to have the whole neighbourhood including the rest of the force in his pocket. This is almost a reaction to the third episode where he found himself fitting in, this time he says “I’ve forgotten who I am”. His stand against Warren is as much for his own individuality given his plight as anything. Inevitably he is set up by his nemesis who snares him in a honeytrap, yet writer Matthew Graham pulls something more powerful out of this familiar set up when it seems Tyler’s encouraging words to the girl - “It’s a beautiful life” – spur her on to attempt an escape from Warrens’ clutches. Sadly five minutes later we’re looking at her body. For me, this was the point of the episode but Graham commits a faux pas by having Gene Hunt decide, after all these years, that he is sick of kow towing to Warren and thus joins Tyler in standing up to him. It doesn’t really work and you can’t imagine for a second that someone as powerful could be toppled by two coppers walking into his bar and arresting him. Still, this aside it’s an episode with plenty of highlights including Tyler meeting Marc Bolan and advising him to “drive carefully”, Gene revealing that he and his wife are Roger Whitaker fans and some lovely scenes between Sam and his mother. One other thing too – the shirts everyone wears are actually remarkably similar to those currently on sale in Next proving not everything changes.
Episode 5:
After a man is found murdered seemingly because he’s a United supporter, Sam persuades Gene to go undercover in a suspect pub so they can find out more. Despite the subject matter most of this episode is played for laughs and the scenes with Tyler, Hunt and Annie working behind the bar are priceless. You can marvel at a pint being eighteen and a half pence and watch Hunt’s attempts to pour and more successful efforts at drinking them. Not a lot happens but there’s another appearance from Test Card Girl, baiting Sam; with “Daddys always let you down” ; a reference to his father’s disappearance and also the promise he makes to the murdered man’s son. You can spot the villain a mile off, but Tyler gives an impassioned speech near the end which will stir the hearts of any football fan and is one of the best bits of writing in the whole series. As ever the period observation and social comment is fantastic; Sam can’t find any plates so serves chicken in a basket, something very alien to 1973! “We’re thinking inside the box” declares Hunt. “Outside the box”, Tyler corrects him. “That too!”
Episode 6:
Sieges were invented for series like this, allowing the regular characters to interact a lot more closely than they normally would and when a mystery man takes several hostages at the Manchester Gazette offices, it doesn’t take too long for Sam Tyler, Gene Hunt and Annie Cartwright to find themselves in the thick of the action. Much levity is had earlier on when Sam’s talk of cordons amuses his colleagues but its interesting how often Hunt demurs to his subordinate even after initially protesting too much. Almost without them noticing, the sort of loyalty that serving police officers build over years has seemingly developed between them and this is one of the most satisfying elements Mathew Graham has included in the series. The sparring is still there – and can sometimes break out into hostility – but there’s a wry acceptance by Hunt (played perfectly by Philip Glenister) that Tyler is mostly right. So he resorts to childish retorts. “I’m the negotiator” declares Sam to which Hunt responds, “I’ll make you a hat.” One does wonder why he hasn’t been on the blower to Hulme to request their training manual though!
The episode examines the little man; the hostage taker Reg Cole turns out to be the caretaker yet none of the office staff recognise him and he feels under appreciated. When Tyler searches his flat he finds a literary treasure trove far from what you might expect a man in such employment to possess and that’s exactly the point. “Fear turns us into heroes or cowards” he tells Tyler. This is neatly paralleled by Hunt’s anger at the Gazette’s editor who slurred his reputation years back claiming he shot an unarmed boy. For Tyler the day’s events are heightened by the fact that he’s heard his life support machine in the `real` world will be turned off at two o’clock – exactly the time Cole plans to kill someone. If the coincidence lays it on slightly too thick it does provide one of the show’s most riveting moments as Tyler, a pistol at his head hears his father’s whistling, alluded to in a previous scene when the hostages revealed their happiest moment. Most series would leave it there, but Graham loves to make us laugh too so just when you think that Hunt has been shot trying to save Tyler (and again underlining the loyalty that’s developed between them), it turns out his whiskey holder saves the day. All down the pub…
Just to pull us a little further on down the emotional rollercoaster, the phone nobody else can hear in the pub rings and Tyler hears his mother’s voice say that at two o’clock “I saw Sam smile” and she’s decided not to switch off the machine. Its about then you realise this is the best thing on telly at the moment.
Episode 7:
When a suspect dies in custody Sam is the only member of the team prepared to face up to the fact that something untoward might have occurred. A darker, shiftier episode may miss the witty pen of Matthew Graham but is ready to tackle the dark underbelly of the 1970s. Tyler’s gradual isolation by the others because of his insistence on investigating the circumstances of the death resembles school kids falling out and Ray, who has always seemed a nasty piece of work, turn out to have been the culprit. Echoing the strong western themes the series uses, it’s a case of the Sheriff (ie Hunt) administering his own rough justice, demoting Ray, leaving Sam with the dilemma of whether to produce a tape of what happened for the Superintendent to hear.
The episode leaves you guessing all the way and it seems appropriate that the suspect is never really suitably treated before or after his death. It brings home the tough world in which Tyler is now trapped. There are some well judged head clashes between Tyler and Hunt and an intriguing window into the group dynamic that many people will probably recognise from work or school. Not that its all unremitting gloom; a curry expedition sees Tyler experiencing one of his sudden contacts with his own world via music on the radio; “It’s Pulp!” he shouts, but Hunt has just taken a mouthful and disagrees, “No, tastes like spinach!” Best line though underpins what the story will tell us; as the Superintendent leaves the toilets without going near a sink, Hunt says after him, “Not going to wash your hands, sir, it’s not like you”
Episode 8:
Has Sam finally found the reason why he’s in 1973? Well it seems like it when his father Vic is arrested and seems to have a connection to the notorious but elusive Morton brothers who are eager to take over the patch. Convinced of his father’s innocence and that he’s just someone “in the wrong place at the wrong time”, Tyler soon clashes with Hunt who believes the opposite. As it turns out, Hunt is right and there is a dramatic confrontation.
The episode must have been tricky to pen as it works from our point of view as Sam desperately tries to get his dad to stay with his family thinking this will get him back to 2006 but also fits into the character interaction already established and we don’t know till the end whether Vic is involved or not. Drawing together the strengths of the series, the episode has wit, emotion and tension plus a great 70s style car chase. John Simm and Philip Glenister have been superb throughout but are even better here, and there’s a great bit near the end when we find out the rest of the team have been taking bets on which of the two would pull a gun on the other first! The arguments between Tyler and Hunt are classic; Tyler lets loose with a string of insults to which Hunt simply responds; “You make that sound like it’s a bad thing”.
The family ties are also well handled while the sounds of Sam apparently starting to respond to treatment in 2006 dip in and out of the action at just the right moment. In the end, the last word spoken is “pub” which just about sums up what’s been a riot of a series - the second season can’t come soon enough!
I LOVE... 1973
Tim Worthington travels back to `Life on Mars`season 2.
Life On Mars really shouldn't have worked. For a start it's yet another attempt by the BBC to do science fiction in a primetime adult slot. Even on the rare occasions that they've managed to come up with something halfway credible like Virtual Murder, Goremenghast or B.U.G.S. (and let's not even get started on the times that they haven't, especially not Crime Traveller), they seem to have panicked the second that the shows failed to get as many viewers as the latest hard-hitting drama about a maverick ex-military detective who solves crimes in their spare time and branded them, and the genre as a whole, a 'failure'. Then there's the 'retro' setting to contend with. For some reason, while every other period of modern (and indeed ancient) history is generally treated respectfully by filmmakers, the merest mention of 'the seventies' seems to spark off a frenzy of unfunny ironic 'gags' about flares, Zippy, and a Space Hopper-riding trade unionist eating Spangles while chasing after Patrick Mower carrying an Adidas bag of full of stolen Leo Sayer albums.
Last but not least, there's the fact that it was clearly commissioned in the slipstream of another huge genre success, which is normally never a good sign. This, though, is exactly the reason why it has turned out so well. The revived Doctor Who showed that an offbeat series could still be a success if enough care and dedication went into its making, and interference from executives concerned about how it might appeal to casual viewers who like it when Ross Kemp plays a solider with 'issues'. For all their varied flaws, Torchwood and Primeval are clearly cut from the same cloth, while Life On Mars has several warehouses full of spare rolls of gaudily-coloured cloth all of its own.
Underneath all of its sci-fi trappings, the series is built on the sturdy foundations of gripping detective yarns, packed with unexpected twists and turns to rival those of the BBC's old Paul Temple radio serials. These alone would be enough to make it a solidly watchable series, but what really lifts it is the bizarre setting. It's not so much that there's no logical explanation for Sam Tyler's predicament, more that - until the inevitable reveal in the final episode - there are so many possible ones and yet none of them seem to fit. Is he merely dreaming events from his hospital bed in the present? Maybe, but his experiences seem far too tangible, let alone the crossovers with the present or his mentally-taxing involvement with his own childhood history. Is he a genuine mentally unstable 1970s policeman imagining that he's gone back in time? His knowledge of unpredictable events in the future is surely too precise for that. How come some characters can hear his messages from the 'outside world', and some can't? Rarely has a television series managed to present so many intriguing and seemingly unanswerable questions in such a thrillingly casual manner.
The main characters, who could have so easily ended up as flat caricatures played for flare-wearing laughs, are as strong as the storylines that revolve around them. Gene Hunt is particularly well rounded as the veteran DCI caught up as the middle man between the footsoldiers and the 'top brass', the law-abiding and the law-bending, and the past and the future of policing. He is able to see all sides of all of these conflicts, and while his judgement is perhaps not always what he should be, is able to subtly alter his behaviour to suit who he's addressing - varying between sneaking sympathy with Sam's totally alien attitudes to the job and simply suggesting "maybe there's a new face in the local boozers" when advising Ray and Chris on how to approach the search for a dangerous violent offender. He openly and unashamedly lusts after the young and nubile Annie, but is unshakeable in his belief that the real sex pests should be put behind bars for good.
Ray Carling is a man very much made in his guv'nor's image, but in reality only shares his dedication to the job and the law; he's much more volatile and bigoted, and a good deal less perceptive, and at times comes across as a loose cannon who constantly jeapardises investigations through his own stubborn pig-headedness. Chris Skelton may appear witless and incompetent, but at the same time is the character who most readily accepts the value of the weird new policing techniques that Sam insists on introducing. Annie Cartwright is almost entirely resigned to the low status of women in the workplace, though she has had a glimpse of more progressive attitudes as a student and is more than vaguely aware of the drive for equality gathering momentum elsewhere, and when pushed far enough will step outside her defined 'role', much to the consternation of her male colleagues. And then of course there's Sam Tyler - compassionate, self-righteous, bewildered, determined and confrontational all at once, as he struggles to make sense of his apparent voyage several decades into the past. As for the other notable characters, including the unnervingly perceptive barman Nelson, the dozen or so mysteriously silent other detectives, and all manner of smug criminals and fleetingly visiting policemen hinting at some sort of knowledge of Sam's predicament, their main purpose is to be enigmatic and add to the mystery of proceedings, and they certainly manage to carry this off. There are some weaknesses and flaws - in particular, Annie sometimes seems staggeringly naive and unworldly-wise for someone who had studied a relatively new subject at University in the days when admission procedures were more stringent - but the beauty of this series is that it's impossible to criticise the characters for these reasons. For all anyone watching knows, they could be entirely deliberate and just further pieces in the increasingly puzzling jigsaw of the show.
Much has been made of what reviewers insist on calling the "deliciously un-PC" nature of the series, with the characters and storylines reflecting realistic attitudes for the time on race, sexism, the treatment of suspects and plenty more besides. Aside from the fact that celebrating something like this as a 'refreshing' diversion from the norm is a questionable attitude anyway, it's also entirely missing the point of why Life On Mars touches on these themes. As in so many classic examples of time travel-related science fiction, Sam is confronted with attitudes and practices that he finds repugnant, but finds himself totally unable to change history in any way. The only characters that his more right-on attitudes seem to have any real effect on are the much younger Chris and Annie, who doubtless would have gravitated in that direction in time anyway. It's also worth emphasising, as Philip Glenister felt moved to do in a recent interview with the `Radio Times` (which has been more guilty than most for sniggering behind its hand at the occasionally off-colour dialogue), that the 1970s detectives are not the 'bad guys'. Nowhere is this better exemplified than when Gene Hunt frets over how and whether to punish Ray Carling for serious professional misconduct, pointing out to Sam that no matter how questionable his methods of investigation might sometimes be there are alot less 'real' villains walking the streets as a result.
The referencing of 1970s cultural ephemera, which is so often where shows like this tend to trip themselves up, is (the odd jarring moment and awkwardly shoehorned gag aside) impressively restrained and judiciously employed. The baffled response to Sam's request for a 'PC Terminal', for instance, is about a million times funnier than no end of flinging Spangles around could ever hope to be. The real masterstroke is using the Test Card girl and Open University presenters to convey messages from the future, both examples of the strange and unsettling 'secret television' that seemed to exist outside of the proper schedules and to propagate ideas and concepts (and indeed schmaltzy 'big band' music) that meant little or nothing to the casual viewer. The homage to Camberwick Green worked less well, partly due to its concession to 'ironic' revivalism and partly because it just wasn't worked into the plot well enough, but it was nice to see that they went to the trouble of assembling a note-perfect recreation of the 'Music Box' desk, and in any case it was worth it for Sam's snarling "stay out of Camberwick Green!!". The soundtrack is perfectly balanced too, avoiding the usual trap of simply featuring the hits of the day and concentrating on what the characters might more realistically have been listening to - a mixture of Glam Rock chart hits, Prog Rock album classics, Atomic Rooster b-sides and the occasional stray bit of soul creeping in from elsewhere.
Strangely, having spent recent years aggressively promoting so many shows that ended up deservedly falling flat on their face, it seems that the BBC just don't know what to do when presented with a genuine hit. Postponing an episode of Life On Mars to make way for football is annoying but understandable. Starting one episode five minutes early, and accidentally sending out a batch of misprinted `Radio Times` that suggested another was on an hour later than it actually was, on the other hand, are just plain ridiculous. The 'retro' graphics and BBC Globe are a nice touch, but when you've ended up missing some or all of the show through no fault of your own, they're more of a smug annoyance.
The real only problem with the show is that the creators seemed to lack the confidence to come up with a really arresting resolution, opting instead for an ambiguous conclusion that suggested it had all been a dream but pretty much allowed viewers to put whatever interpretation on it that they saw fit. Some commentators have drawn comparisons between this ending and those of fellow oddball dramas in mainstream slots of yesteryear The Prisoner and Gangsters, but while the latter was using postmodernism to make a pertinent comment on the relationship between programme and viewer, and the former never ever promised any kind of answers at any point (yet oddly its ending seems more 'definite' than that of Sam Tyler's adventures), Life On Mars was a series that had shamlessly played on intrigue and hinted at a dramatic resolution from the outset and to go out in such a muted and low-key fashion while leaving numerous key plot details unresolved is something of a let down.
Yet in a sense, this flimsy ending is really only the beginning, and not just in relation to the mooted spin off series featuring Gene, Ray and Chris (not to mention the production team's tantalising hints that Sam may yet return in some form). Even more than Doctor Who, Primeval and Torchwood, Life On Mars has acted as conclusive proof that despite the apparent attitude of TV executives in recent years, mainstream viewers will take to offbeat shows with a sci-fi or fantasy-based premise so long as they're well enough made. Which in a purely unintentional way, really is like travelling back to 1973.