by Hayley Charlesworth
Russell T Davies’ interconnecting series, Cucumber, Banana and Tofu concluded not with a bang, not with a whimper, but with an introspected look at humanity, grief, and quite obviously, sex. As Henry’s story concluded in Cucumber, Banana focused less on sexuality and more on exploitation, but both packed an emotional punch.
Russell T Davies’ interconnecting series, Cucumber, Banana and Tofu concluded not with a bang, not with a whimper, but with an introspected look at humanity, grief, and quite obviously, sex. As Henry’s story concluded in Cucumber, Banana focused less on sexuality and more on exploitation, but both packed an emotional punch.
Expectedly for a writer like Davies, the final Cucumber played around with time-travel, at first exploring Henry filling the loss of Lance with a “collective” that cannot last forever. With friends like Dean, Scotty and some of the Banana stars gradually moving on, there remains only Henry and Freddie, until eventually Freddie runs away for fear of becoming the new Lance following a tense and disturbing sexual encounter with Cliff, cleverly and devastatingly intercut with shots of Henry alone in the bed he shared with Lance. Then we flash through Henry’s life for the next few years. Six months in, and Daniel is found guilty for murder, but there is no big court case, only a text sent by Cliff to Henry and Cleo. Julie Hesmondhalgh’s almost-silent performance here as Cleo should be commended, as should her performance throughout the series. Her Cleo and Con O’Neill’s Cliff are the two towers of strength preventing Henry falling into dangerous territory, and as such become two of the show’s most beloved and well-rounded characters. A year later Henry continues to catch himself in grief, with Vincent Franklin exceptional in portraying his quiet devastation. Six years later, and watching a busker, Henry spots an older, tattooed Freddie in the crowd. It is this final scene between the two of them that is the stand-out of the episode. While filling each other in on their missing years, the show ends with the message of the whole series, one which is not apparent until those last few seconds. Henry’s problem, which is only now apparent to him, is that he has to come to terms with being gay. It’s a bold way to end the programme, lacking the emotional punch of Lance’s death, but leaving Henry and his future in limbo.
Banana has been a series mostly concerned with sex and sexuality, but this final episode is something different. It deals with girls trafficked from Africa to the UK to work as below-minimum wage illegal cleaners. The girls, who barely speak English, are kept by the villainous Jonjo, and when one girl, Zara, confesses her rape at Jonjo’s hands to cleaning boss Vanessa, she makes it her mission to rescue the girls from their fate. It is a beautiful story that connects the two women despite their language barrier, seeing them find a common ground in the harrowing experiences they both face. And while the ending is not a happily ever after, there is hope enough to send Banana out on a positive note. The only problem with the episode, which had mostly been very realistically written, was the poem recited by Vanessa at the end. Well written and performed, it still felt out of place in the series.
Tofu also concluded its series of interviews, which, despite the distracting sketches, has been fascinating and all-encompassing of sexual desire or lack thereof. Creator and interviewer Benjamin Cook achieved a lot by getting his subjects to be so open and discuss sex without shame.
There will not be a second series of Cucumber, Banana or Tofu, so this is where we leave Henry, Freddie, Dean, and Manchester’s gay village for now. While the shows on a whole have not been as revolutionary as previous series Queer as Folk, they deserve to be fondly remembered as an ambitious, largely successful project, and the episode depicting Lance’s death deserves to go down as one of the finest hours in television history.
Tofu also concluded its series of interviews, which, despite the distracting sketches, has been fascinating and all-encompassing of sexual desire or lack thereof. Creator and interviewer Benjamin Cook achieved a lot by getting his subjects to be so open and discuss sex without shame.
There will not be a second series of Cucumber, Banana or Tofu, so this is where we leave Henry, Freddie, Dean, and Manchester’s gay village for now. While the shows on a whole have not been as revolutionary as previous series Queer as Folk, they deserve to be fondly remembered as an ambitious, largely successful project, and the episode depicting Lance’s death deserves to go down as one of the finest hours in television history.
What Did You Think?
Did you enjoy Cucumber, Banana and Tofu?
Do you wish for a second series?
Let us know in the comments!
RSS Feed
