Review for The Sweeney - The Complete First Series

I often think of ‘The Sweeney’ as the first really gritty UK police drama, washing away all that preceded it like punk did to prog. Poor old Dixon of Dock Green didn’t know what hit him!

Only the truth is it wasn’t quite like that. There had been a steady move towards gritty realism before this (Special Branch; New Scotland Yard) but there could be no doubting that here at last was the real-deal. Even the grainy, often wobbly hand held camera work seemed to be more documentary than drama.

But one thing that ‘The Sweeney’ undoubtedly had that was new was violence. Not implied violence. Actual violence. It also had a strong ensemble cast headed up by John Thaw as Jack Regan and his loyal side-kick, pre-Minder Denis Waterman as George Carter, forming an iconic duo that, to many. Were ‘The Sweeney’. With the new ‘Sweeney’ movie doing the rounds just now (I haven’t seen it so can’t really comment) the prospects of seeing it without its original pairing seem absurd. Surely it’s just a gritty police drama that happens to have the same name? Oh well.

You get the feeling, watching the series today, that it is a series that only makes sense set in the context of the 1970’s. A police officer wouldn’t last a day behaving like Regan in contemporary Britain. Declaring everyone a slag before delivering them a clout across the head, searching premises without a warrant, sleeping with suspects and downing a few pints before setting off on a high speed chase through Peckham just isn’t a part of modern policing.

I once witnessed a police beating in the seventies that would be unimaginable now. From my seat atop a double decker I saw police running after a suspect, catching him, pushing him to the floor and then start kicking and beating him with truncheons. Not a pleasant scene but one that reminds me that aspects of ‘The Sweeney’ that seem far-fetched now may not have been then.

Of course, the mis-trust this eventually generated, particularly for young black men subjected to the constant humiliation of ‘Sus’ laws (i.e. you can search anyone you suspect of a crime) spilled over into the Brixton riots – possibly a more righteous cause than the recent fracas – and the advent of punk. Curiously, though grotesquely sexist, ‘The Sweeney’ (based on Season 1) could not be charged with racism to any high degree. Most the suspects here are pathetic white low-lifes.

The series was a spin-off from an Armchair Cinema episode (‘Regan’ – also re-released this week). Middle-aged, cynical, hardened, divorced and smoking and drinking far too much for his health, he’s a man with a strong moral compass meting out justice in whatever way he sees fit – which often means bending the rules, much to the chagrin of his immediate superior.

The first episode (‘Ringer’) sets up a good start for the series. Full of righteous violence and police in-fighting, it is a great platform to establish the lay of the land. Brian Blessed turns in a remarkably restrained performance (he had not yet become a parody of himself as the leader of a gang of small time London hoods. Violence characterises the episode which starts and ends on that note – perhaps deliberately. It certainly got the blood-racing and, as the first episode of a much hyped series, must have done a brilliant job of retaining viewers for further weeks.

Throughout the series it’s a relatively consistent mix of violence and pathos – with occasional moments of laugh aloud comedy. Nothing seems sacred. Dognapping, and indeed kidnapping (of Regan’s own daughter), armed robbery, blackmail and the insidious whiff of bent coppers all get an airing here.

In terms of picture quality, it’s all here in its original graininess, perhaps looking as good as it ever will – though I am still in two minds if the improved resolution really makes much difference. Shot on 16mm with deliberate grain in the grading (very fashionable at the time) it has none of the lovely gloss of a classic ITC show shot on 35mm – like The Prisoner for example.

The 5.1 mix is predictable and adds some excitement if you like that sort of thing but the real treat perhaps (and a reason to double-dip if you’re a big fan) are the new extras which include some intros from guest stars as well as some strangely faltering commentary tracks with Waterman and various writers and Directors. They’re fun but fairly unedited and spontaneous – rather as if they have joined you on the sofa to watch an episode.

A fine release and, especially for anyone who has no previous release in their collection, well worth picking up.