Today, after watching a man drive up and down his own driveway for forty-five minutes while I held a ladder for someone as they suspended a giant peanut in a tree, a few of us assembled around the telly and watched Five, because in a bizarre role-reversal it was the only channel with good reception. Suddenly, after what seemed to be a technical fault, a programme started called "Revelations: The Initial Journey".
Life will never be quite the same again.
The show, set in America during a time of general Godliness, farming, and ugly clothing, began (after a brief monologue) with a girl in a blue dress — Dorcas — kissing a dog. In walked her friend, Sarah, in a red dress (the colours are important — it's the only way to tell them apart) who pointed out that Dorcas would probably prefer to kiss a boy. They chatted briefly about their unfulfilled love lives, and then Sarah uttered an immortal line, one which I'm sure will go down in history next to "To be or not to be" and "Here's looking at you, kid."
"I've got something to show you. About eggs."
About eggs. How could you not be excited? Anyway, as it transpired the eggy delight involved the seperation of the albumen from the yolk. The albumen was placed in a bowl of water, and I don't think the fate of the yolk was explained, though I could be wrong. The idea was that, by staring into the white/water mix, the girls could see the face of their future husbands.
Dorcas was not best pleased with her prospective spouse, as he was a skull. In fact, she spent quite a while screaming "Skull!" and "Death!" loudly enough to bring her mother, Mistress Something, running. The Mistress asked what was wrong, and Dorcas helpfully replied "Death!". The two girls were scalded for their dabblings in witchcraft, and were warned that the penalty for it was hanging.
Needless to say, Sarah was not a happy bunny as she walked home. Indeed, she saw a face in the sky during a sudden, momentary thunderstorm, and it startled her so much that she fell over unconvincingly a few seconds after it had settled down. Luckily, a man named Jess — the voice of the opening monologue — appeared (literally: Sarah thought she'd conjoured him up) to lend a hand, as because he was quite attractive she faked injury to get his assistance.
A few weeks passed, during which Jess was sent to work on Dorcas and the Mistress's farm, and it was firmly established that both Dorcas and Sarah fancied the arse off him. They also thought that the Mistress did, presumably because she didn't threated to hang him. And so, when Dorcas saw the Mistress hug Jess briefly, she ran of crying and complained to Sarah that her dead father had been horribly betrayed. Thinking on her feet, Sarah went home, acted like she'd been possessed by evil for a bit, then got up in the night claiming to have been confronted by a ghost, which we later learned was actually a spectre, or perhaps a visitation. She then — pay attention, this is an incredible twist — accused the Mistress of bewitching here.
I hope you like the word bewitching. You may well be hearing a lot of it.
Now, as is only natural, the village descended on the farm to take the Mistress away, and Dorcas sold her down the river for the sake of her dead dad. They called upon the Witchfinder, the most feared man in the land by Jess's account, to take the matter to trial. And in case you were wondering, there is a reason why Jess does all the narrationy bits. You'll just have to be patient.
The trial began, perfectly fairly and without a hint of bias, with the Witchfinder yelling "Bring in the witch!". What follows is an approximate transcript of the trial.
Witchfinder: Witch?
Sarah: Witch. Bewitched me.
Dorcas: Bewitched her.
Sarah's Dad: Bewitched.
Mistress: Not witch. Didn't bewitch.
Villager: Witch. Bewitched. Killed husband.
Dorcas: Father? Bewitched by witch? Bitch.
Mistress: Not witch. Nor bitch.
Enter Jess
Jess: Not witch.
Dorcas: Witch.
Jess: Not witch.
Dorcas: Witch. Bewitched.
Witchfinder: Hey! Dog! Familiar!
Villager: Yes. Familiar. Spirit. Witch.
Dorcas: No. Nice dog. Not familiar. Not witch. Wrong.
Jess: Dog not familiar. Maybe Mistress not which?
Dorcas: Nope. Witch. You shagged.
Mistress: What?
Jess: No. Comfort. Dead husband. Crying.
Dorcas: Oh. Not witch.
Witchfinder: Not witch.
Sarah: Not witch.
Villager: Not witch.
After which, Jess treated us to another gripping monologue, the credits rolled, and I went for a pie. But what I didn't know was that the premise of the series was far more that just this little snapshot of American life. The reason that Jess did all the narration was really very simple. He is the only recurring character, and he travels through time. A different era every episode.
Sometimes, it feels like life has blown you a thousand kisses. Or in this case, 23, because that's how many episodes of this superb programme are left in the series. So, noon on Sundays on Five. Don't miss it, unless you can travel in time.
