Cracker: To Be a Somebody

To Be a Somebody 
Air Dates: 10/10, 10/17 & 10/24/1994
Written: Jimmy McGovern
Directed: Tim Fywell

"We're not getting treated like scum any more. We're getting treated like wild animals. And, yeah, one or two of us start acting like wild animals and the cages go up and ninety-six people die."

We arrive at Cracker's seminal episode. To Be a Somebody, the second season premiere, is the show's watershed, Jimmy McGovern's magnum opus. Its dramatic power, emotional depth and thematic complexity remains untouched. This may well be my favorite television episode ever.

Albie Kinsella (Robert Carlyle) leads a bitter existence. His father recently died, his wife (Tracey Gillman) leaves him, his coworkers condescend to him. One day Albie argues with a Pakistani shopkeeper (Badi Uzzaman) and snaps. Albie murders him impulsively, later justifying it as part of a master plan. Fitz divines Albie's trying to avenge the 96 victims of the Hillsborough tragedy. Fitz's relations with Bilborough remain strained, while Judith takes another stab at fixing their marriage. Then Jimmy Beck makes a boneheaded mistake with tragic consequences.

To Be a Somebody dissects white male angst. McGovern explicitly recalls Taxi Driver, with Albie sporting army fatigues and shaved head. He's not only angry but articulate, a Scouse demagogue toting an army bayonet, spouting violent disquisitions against the Labour Party selling out his class. (One wonders what he'd make of Tony Blair.) Besides the shopkeeper, he targets a patronizing psychologist (Glyn Grain) and a snotty Sun reporter (Beth Goddard). Albie lashes out at working class bugbears: immigrants, police, intellectuals, the media. The skinheads Bilborough initially targets would approve. Albie makes a frightening creation, getting revenge by playing down to a stereotype.

Albie repeatedly invokes Hillsborough, a 1989 soccer crush which killed 96 people. Subsequent inquests, investigations, lawsuits and frenzied press coverage muddled the issue, with overzealous police and poor stadium design receiving most of the blame. Reflected in the show, Rupert Murdoch's The Sun caused widespread outrage blaming the victims for their own deaths. Hillsborough remains a deeply-felt trauma: just last year, the Hillsborough Independent Panel released a detailed report of the tragedy. For McGovern, himself a working class Liverpudlian, Hillsborough takes on a very personal resonance.

McGovern received criticism for employing this tragedy for drama. (He'd later pen Hillsborough, an acclaimed drama starring several Cracker actors.) Yet it's hard to fault McGovern's handling of it. For Albie, Hillsborough embodies society's injustice, with the system regarding lower class whites as a subhuman rabble. To mitigate our sympathy, it's clear Albie has personal reasons for killing, warping a pointless murder into a righteous quest. Somebody's complexity is a far cry from Law & Order shows crassly "ripped from the headlines."

Robert Carlyle used Cracker as a springboard to high profile movies: Trainspotting, The Full Monty, The World is Not Enough. Arguably, Carlyle's never topped his brilliant turn here. His vicious, wolf-like features make him a natural villain, yet Carlyle's too smart to limit his characterization. Instead he shows Albie's wounded vulnerability after lifelong insults and condescension, evinced in pained expressions and polished soliloquies tinged with sadness. Thanks to Carlyle, we sense someone pitiably human behind the killings.

Somebody plays its dramatic trump halfway through. I've expressed reservations at Cracker placing its characters in jeopardy, but DCI Bilborough's death undeniably works. Supposedly conceived as a dramatic exit for Christopher Eccleston, it proves a powerful hinge by giving the police extremely personal motivation. Most of all Jimmy Beck: outwitted by Albie in an interview, he immediately blames himself for Bilborough's death. Later on, he savagely beats Albie as the beginning of an epic downward spiral.

Bilborough's passing makes way for Ricky Tomlinson's DCI Wise. Wise proved inconsistently written: in McGovern's episodes his competence makes a good ballast against his damaged subordinates. In other shows he rarely transcended the typical gruff, tough boss. He makes a fine first impression though, instantly earning his officers' respect: "Put your clothes on or I'll rip your dick off," he warns Albie after the latter demands pictures of Beck-inflicted injuries. His meeting with Fitz indicates a more comfortable relationship than Bilborough.

Fitz spends the first installment sidelined; Bilborough's reluctant to call him in after the previous episode. Judith seems ready to leave Fitz, dumping his alcohol and storming out of the house (after a night of passion, of course). These scenes play as comic relief against the starker main plot. Fitz argues with Mark in a supermarket, then berates an old lady ("Two bottles of whiskey constitutes one item!"). He wheedles his way in by imparting theories to DC Harriman (Colin Tierney), something Penhaligon instantly picks up on ("How is Fitz?"). Penhaligon resents Fitz standing her up, yet Bilborough's death reunites them.

The interrogation scenes provide Cracker's meat, something even weaker installments get right. The last 20 minutes of Somebody crackle with energy, as Fitz probes Albie's damaged psyche. For once, the show doesn't strain credulity with its lack of lawyers. Albie shows pride in his work, fancying himself smarter than any copper, a match even for Fitz. Yet for all Albie's platitudes, Fitz forces him to confront his personal motivations. Even when McGovern ups the ante with a last minute threat, their personal interplay drives events.

Ultimately, Somebody proves even darker than One Day a Lemming Will Fly. The killer's caught and two plots aborted, yet Albie's perorations that "This country's going to blow" ring in our ears. Then a bomb explodes at The Sun, causing untold carnage. It's a profoundly unsettling conclusion, suggesting more Albies waiting to be born.