3,571 words, 19 minutes read time.
Welcome to Culture Vulture — an alternative look at the week’s entertainment, curated for you by Pat Harrington. Our video version has been suspended due to staff illness.
Summer stirs, and with it comes a restless appetite for stories that stretch across decades, genres, and the hidden corners of human life. This week’s Culture Vulture is a tapestry of classics, festival anthems, courtroom reckonings and sharp-tongued thrillers — each inviting you to slip away from the ordinary for a while.
From the Isle of Wight’s festival fields to the dusty plains of a western stagecoach, these films and programmes share a common pulse: people thrown together by chance, by ambition, or by the thrill of the unknown. They remind us how secrets fester behind polite facades, how loyalty and betrayal dance hand in hand, and how communities — whether in mosh pits or courtroom galleries — reveal the best and worst in us.
So close the curtains, let dusk settle, and join Culture Vulture for a week where music, mischief, heartbreak and human folly flicker across your screen. There’s plenty here to spark conversation, stir memories, or simply keep you company until the credits roll.
Saturday, 21st June
7:00 p.m. — Isle of Wight Festival (Sky Mix Arts Showcase)
There’s a special energy that comes from gathering thousands of people on an island for music. The Isle of Wight Festival has long been a pilgrimage for fans of big names and new discoveries alike. Each set tonight, from Paul Heaton to Yard Act, taps into that timeless ritual of voices uniting under open skies.
Beyond the guitars and choruses, the festival scene reminds us how gatherings can revive local economies and breathe life into quiet towns. The performers know they are part of something larger than their own setlists; the crowd shapes the memory as much as the artists do.
For a few hours, differences dissolve in the swell of familiar lyrics and cheering. It’s a microcosm of how communal moments can momentarily hush everyday divides and let strangers stand side by side, arms around shoulders, singing the same words.
9:00 p.m. — Saint Omer (BBC4)
Alice Diop’s Saint Omer transforms the courtroom into a space of quiet reckoning. Loosely based on real events, the film resists the conventions of legal drama, opting instead for a meditative stillness that invites deep introspection. It explores motherhood, migration, and the silent burdens women often carry—burdens that neither the law nor society is equipped to weigh fairly.
The power of Saint Omer lies not in what’s said, but in what hangs in the air. Diop lets silences speak, glances linger, and bureaucracy weigh heavily on the characters—particularly the defendant, a woman whose foreignness isolates her in both language and experience. Her story unfolds within an institution that cannot—and will not—bend to accommodate difference. The film deftly captures the alienation of navigating such systems while wrestling with trauma and cultural displacement.
What emerges is not an argument for guilt or innocence, but a challenge to the notion that a single act can ever define a life. Diop offers no easy answers. Instead, she leaves viewers unsettled, asking: Who gets to be understood—and who is left behind in the margins of interpretation?
Saint Omer is quietly radical in its form, devastating in its implications.
10:00 p.m. — Sally (National Geographic)
Sally is an understated but deeply affecting tribute to Sally Ride, the first American woman in space. Yet the documentary’s strength lies not in celebrating milestones, but in gently peeling back the layers of a life lived under scrutiny. It honours Ride’s historic achievements, but never forgets the emotional calculus behind each small step.
The film traces not only her ascent into orbit, but the unseen gravitational forces that shaped her path—expectations of gender, privacy, and propriety in a world eager for heroes but slow to accept complexity. Ride emerges not as a symbol, but as a full human being: brilliant, private, and quietly radical in the way she moved through rigid institutions.
There are no histrionics here—just a series of carefully chosen moments that reveal the personal cost of public progress. The story reminds us that history isn’t just made in launchpads or control rooms, but in hushed decisions, guarded identities, and the quiet courage to defy gravity, alone.
In an age that prizes spectacle, Sally dares to whisper. And in doing so, it leaves an echo.
11:25 p.m. — Shallow Grave (Film4)
Shallow Grave slices into the polished calm of shared domesticity, revealing just how thin the walls are—between rooms, and between civility and something far colder. When unexpected wealth enters the picture, old friendships don’t fray—they disintegrate.
The Edinburgh flat, with its orderly charm, becomes a crucible. Laughter and loyalty curdle into wariness, then into something sharper. Every glance becomes a wager; every silence, a strategy. You don’t need a sermon when the tension itself whispers: “No one’s watching. What would you do?”
By the time the secrets start to seep through the walls, it’s clear: the most dangerous thing in the flat isn’t the money, or even the corpse—it’s the belief that consequences are optional. That’s what makes Shallow Grave linger long after the credits roll. It doesn’t just thrill; it disturbs..
12:00 a.m. — A Bigger Splash (BBC2)
Certainly, Patrick. Here’s a version that weaves in the plot summary while preserving the layered tone you’re after:
A Bigger Splash unfolds like a fever dream on a sun-drenched island off the coast of Italy. Marianne Lane, a rock icon recovering from vocal surgery, retreats with her partner Paul to a secluded villa, hoping for silence and healing. But the quiet is shattered by the arrival of Harry, her exuberant former lover and music producer, dragging along his enigmatic daughter, Penelope.
What begins as a reunion quickly unravels into something more volatile. Harry’s charm is a performance that refuses to end, and Penelope’s presence is a riddle wrapped in sunbaked indifference. As the four circle each other—through shared meals, glances, and provocations—the villa becomes less a sanctuary and more a pressure cooker.
The island’s beauty is deceptive. Beneath the olive trees and volcanic rock, old wounds reopen and new ones form. Desire, memory, and control shift like the tides, until a single night by the pool turns everything irrevocable. What follows is not just a reckoning, but a quiet exposure of how far people will go to preserve the illusion of freedom—even if it means burying the truth beneath the surface.
Sunday, 22nd June
2:00 p.m. — In a Lonely Place (Talking Pictures)
In a Lonely Place lingers like cigarette smoke in a darkened bar—bitter, seductive, and hard to shake. Humphrey Bogart plays Dixon Steele, a screenwriter with sharp wit and sharper moods, who’s as likely to charm as he is to lash out. When he becomes the prime suspect in a young woman’s murder, his fragile romance with neighbour Laurel (Gloria Grahame) begins to fray under the weight of doubt.
Postwar Los Angeles glimmers in the background—not with promise, but with unease. Behind the studio lots and neon lights, egos bruise easily, and trust is a currency few can afford. Dixon and Laurel’s love, once tentative and tender, slowly corrodes—not because of what’s proven, but because of what they’re afraid might be true.
Nicholas Ray strips away Hollywood’s veneer, revealing a world where talent comes with a temper, and affection can’t survive suspicion. What’s haunting is not the crime, but the possibility that the man who writes tragedy might be living one he doesn’t even recognise. The years have only sharpened its edges. This isn’t just noir—it’s a lament for those who reach for connection and find only the echo of their own damage.
9:00 p.m. — This Cultural Life: Sheku Kanneh-Mason (BBC4)
Sheku Kanneh-Mason shares his influences and memories, offering a glimpse behind his graceful performances. His journey reveals how family support and persistence help talent grow beyond early obstacles.
He talks candidly about the weight of expectation and the quiet moments where music still feels fresh. There’s no denying how his playing invites audiences to hear familiar works with new ears.
In a time when arts funding and opportunities feel fragile, his story reminds us why nurturing the next generation of artists matters.
9:30 p.m. — Kanneh-Mason Playlist @ the Proms (BBC4)
This special performance captures the family’s unique chemistry and sheer joy in collaboration. Each sibling brings a spark that lights up the Proms stage.
Viewers get to witness how classical music finds new life in youthful hands, mixing respect for tradition with modern vibrance.
Such moments show how institutions can evolve, staying relevant by celebrating the future alongside the past.
10:45 p.m. — Walk the Line (BBC2)
Walk the Line plays less like a biopic and more like a long confession set to rhythm and heartbreak. Joaquin Phoenix steps into Johnny Cash’s boots not with swagger, but with the ache of someone chasing grace through broken chords. The road is littered with empty bottles, burnt bridges, and songs that sound like apologies nobody ever asked for—but needed.
We follow Cash from cotton fields to country stardom, but the real terrain is internal. Haunted by the death of his brother and a father who never let him forget it, his early success becomes both escape and echo. The fame doesn’t drown out the guilt; it just gives it louder amplifiers. Music is his outlet, but also his torment—each performance a tug-of-war between who he is and who the world needs him to be.
As addiction tightens its grip, his marriage falters. The stage lights get brighter, but the man behind the microphone grows dim. Then comes June, played with quiet fire by Reese Witherspoon. She doesn’t fix him—but she doesn’t leave either. Where others see a spectacle, she sees a man trying not to disappear.
Cash doesn’t find redemption in grand gestures. It creeps in slowly—in a prison performance that feels more like confession than concert, in the moments where the applause fades and something like honesty takes its place. By the end, he’s not cleaned up so much as come clean. The ghosts still linger, but he stops running.
Redemption, when it comes, isn’t triumphant. It’s tired, ragged, and real. And it sings in a voice that knows sorrow but chooses harmony anyway.
Monday, 23rd June
9:00 p.m. — A Quiet Place Part II (Film4)
This sequel expands the haunting world where silence means survival. The Abbott family ventures beyond their ruined farm, testing trust and the thin line between neighbour and threat.
What lingers is the dread of a world that punishes noise — a metaphor that resonates with how society hushes certain voices while others roar freely.
In its sparse dialogue and tense moments, the film reminds us how fragile safety is and how fiercely people cling to it when it’s snatched away.
10:00 p.m. — Glastonbury: 70s Hits (BBC2)
Reliving Glastonbury’s early days feels like watching a young giant take its first steps. These performances capture raw moments before the festival became a global brand.
Crowds in flared trousers and muddy boots swirl together in a haze of rebellion and hope. Each chord strummed echoes back to an era wrestling with upheaval and liberation.
Today’s stages owe much to these pioneers who made music a shared protest and party in equal measure.
10:50 p.m. — Trainspotting (Film4)
Trainspotting doesn’t ask for sympathy—it demands attention. It hits like a punch and lingers like a bruise. Set in the scuffed corners of Edinburgh, it follows Renton and his friends as they blur through days of heroin highs, desperate schemes, and the kind of friendship forged in chaos and shared damage.
There’s a grim poetry to their world: flats that crumble, conversations that spiral, laughter that curdles as quickly as it flares. Heroin dulls not just pain, but expectation. Jobs, rules, futures—none of it matters when numbness offers a cruel sort of peace. But the film refuses to glamorise. For every hit, there’s a withdrawal; for every joke, a punch in the gut.
It’s a portrait of restless men circling the same drain, held together by shared history and undone by their attempts to escape it. Some run, some stay. None truly get clean—not from the drugs, but from the ache of not belonging to anything outside their tight, toxic orbit.
Amid the mayhem, there’s grim clarity: you can’t outrun emptiness just because you sprint harder. Trainspotting makes you look—and then dares you to feel something after
Tuesday, 24th June
10:00 p.m. — Glastonbury: 80s Hits (BBC2)
The 80s brought synths, big hair, and a festival grappling with new commercial realities. This retrospective shows bands experimenting with sound and image while crowds transform into a rainbow sea.
Under the spectacle, there’s a tension between staying true to rebellious roots and welcoming big sponsors.
These sets remind us that every generation wrestles with how much to sell and how much to keep sacred.
11:15 p.m. — T2 Trainspotting (Film4)
Trainspotting hits like a rush—reckless, raw, and impossible to ignore. It plunges into Edinburgh’s underbelly with a band of friends who chase heroin not just for the high, but to outrun the grey drag of working-class life. Renton, Spud, Sick Boy, and Begbie aren’t rebels with a cause—they’re just trying to feel something in a world that offers little worth choosing. The film pulses with black humour and kinetic energy, but beneath the swagger is a quiet desperation. Every laugh is edged with rot. Every escape route leads back to the same cracked pavement.
Then comes T2 Trainspotting, not as a sequel in the traditional sense, but as a reckoning. Twenty years later, the same men drift through a city that’s been polished and priced beyond recognition. Renton returns with a limp and a suitcase full of regrets. Spud clings to the edges of recovery. Sick Boy—now Simon—masks bitterness with bravado. And Begbie, still a storm in human form, wants revenge more than redemption.
Where the first film was about running—toward oblivion, away from responsibility—T2 is about what happens when you stop. The pace slows, the jokes land softer, and the ache is louder. Nostalgia hangs heavy, not as comfort but as a trap. The men try to reconnect, but the past doesn’t offer closure—only reminders of what was lost, stolen, or squandered.
The contrast is stark: Trainspotting is a howl from the margins; T2 is a sigh from the middle distance. One is about choosing life, even if it’s a lie. The other asks what’s left when the lie no longer works.
Together, they form a jagged diptych—youth and aftermath, chaos and consequence. And in Spud’s quiet attempt to write it all down, there’s a flicker of something close to grace: not forgiveness, perhaps, but understanding.
Wednesday, 25th June
4:45 p.m. — The Lavender Hill Mob (Film4)
The Lavender Hill Mob tiptoes through postwar respectability with a crooked grin. Alec Guinness plays a prim bank clerk who, after years of tea breaks and tidy sums, decides that routine is simply too dull to die in. With the help of a quirky accomplice and a batch of Eiffel Tower souvenirs, he hatches a plan to lift a fortune in gold bullion—and vanish into the Parisian breeze.
What follows is less a crime spree than a gleeful unraveling. London’s foggy streets and polite facades offer perfect cover for a scheme so absurd it just might work. The joy isn’t in the theft, but in watching modest men seize a moment of audacity. Even the law, when it catches up, seems half-tempted to applaud.
The film delights in upending the idea that virtue lives in grey suits and good pensions. Its clerks and customs men know their place—but for once, they dare to step out of it. Mischief, it turns out, has a very British sense of humour.
9:00 p.m. — Amol Rajan: Ghosts of the Ganges (BBC1)
Rajan travels the length of India’s sacred river, meeting people whose lives flow with its fortunes and tragedies. The journey is as much about him confronting inherited stories as about those he interviews.
Each stop reveals lives entwined with pollution, politics, and the fight to preserve the river’s soul.
It’s a reminder that what binds us is often messy and complicated — but worth understanding up close.
10:00 p.m. — Glastonbury: 90s Hits (BBC2)
The festival in the 90s exploded with Britpop swagger and electronic beats. This rewind captures an era both rebellious and oddly nostalgic for the simpler dreams of the past.
Artists stomp muddy stages while fans sway, lost in anthems that would become generational soundtracks.
It’s a time capsule of innocence and irony, played loud under leaky tents.
10:00 p.m. — Secrets of the Bunny Ranch (Crime & Investigation)
Behind the velvet curtains of this legal Nevada brothel lies a story more tangled than the neon lights suggest. Secrets of the Bunny Ranch begins as a look inside a place where intimacy is scheduled, negotiated, and exchanged—but it quickly reveals more than marketed fantasy.
Workers appear confident, practiced, and in control. But as the series unfolds, former employees step forward with memories that don’t fit the glossy brochure. Beneath the staged affection are testimonies of pressure, manipulation, and blurred lines between consent and control. The late owner, once hailed as a savvy entrepreneur, is re-examined through a darker lens—accusations of bullying and abuse casting long shadows on a place once framed as empowering.
What emerges isn’t scandal for scandal’s sake—it’s a reckoning with how performance, vulnerability, and power intersect when desire becomes a product. The show challenges the assumption that legality ensures safety, asking viewers to confront who truly benefits, and who pays the biggest price.
Thursday, 26th June
12:00 noon — Stagecoach (5Action)
A gambler with charm to spare, a drunken doctor, a woman the town won’t forgive, and an outlaw with a moral code—Stagecoach tosses them together and points the wheels straight into danger. But this isn’t just a western about gunshots and gallops. It’s about what happens when strangers are forced to share space, secrets, and suspicion under pressure.
As the rattling stage rattles through Apache country, the social scaffolding of class, gender, and “respectability” begins to buckle. The desert exposes more than threat—it reveals grit, grace, and courage in the most unexpected places. John Ford crafts a tale where community isn’t born from common backgrounds, but from the necessity of solidarity.
Not everyone reaches the final stop. But along the way, Stagecoach quietly reminds us that decency often rides in the unlikeliest company—and that sometimes, the best lawman is the one wearing the least shine on his boots.
8:00 p.m. — Dispatches: Will Nigel Farage be Prime Minister? (Channel 4)
This timely episode dissects Farage’s new ambitions and the forces driving them. Interviews and analysis dig into his appeal, his critics, and the public mood he stokes.
Watching it, you can sense the undercurrents shaping voters’ frustrations and loyalties.
It leaves no easy answers but plenty to debate over dinner tables and in pub corners.
10:15 p.m. — Persuasion (BBC4)
Jane Austen’s subtle masterpiece of second chances comes alive in this elegant adaptation. Anne Elliot’s quiet resolve guides her through old regrets and renewed hope.
The polite drawing rooms hide raw longing and the bittersweet thrill of wondering if it’s too late.
Even now, the tale feels fresh — reminding us that the heart’s quiet wishes can shape a life more than society’s loud demands.
Friday, 27th June
12:00 a.m. — Gringo (BBC1)
Corporate smooth-talk meets cartel chaos in Gringo, a darkly comic plunge into the price of loyalty—or lack thereof. When a meek pharmaceutical rep is sent to Mexico on what’s meant to be a routine trip, he stumbles into a web of betrayals, smuggling, and high-stakes spin control.
What starts as a business errand swiftly mutates into survivalist farce. Alongside the action is a sharp critique of how glossy boardrooms paper over morally murky waters. Executives feign outrage while tallying profits, and pawns like Harold—the “gringo” in question—are left to dodge bullets fired on someone else’s behalf.
Yet beneath the absurdity is a bleak observation: sometimes it takes a man with nothing left to lose to expose the rot at the top. Gringo doesn’t offer redemption, but it does let the overlooked fight back—messily, and just maybe, on their own terms.
8:00 p.m. — Glastonbury (BBC2)
The week closes with live coverage from the festival grounds, a sprawling celebration of sound and revelry. Crowds stretch for miles, flags wave, and generations gather shoulder to shoulder.
Each performance is a thread in a tapestry that’s constantly rewoven with fresh voices and old legends.
It’s a fitting reminder that, for all its flaws, music still has the power to pull us together under the same sky.
And Streaming…
- Easy Money: The Charles Ponzi Story (Apple TV) — From Monday, 23rd June: This deep dive into the original con artist sets the stage for countless scams that followed. His promises of quick riches speak to a longing that still tempts many today.
- Nosferatu (Prime Video) — From Friday, 27th June: A new telling of the timeless vampire tale, reimagined for audiences who crave their horror old-school and dripping with dread.
- Grenfell: Uncovered (Netflix) — From Friday, 20th June: A sobering investigation into the fire’s aftermath, probing the layers of neglect, mismanagement, and community resilience that emerged from tragedy.
