Streets ahead - Tune in, switch off

What's it like for a young soldier to cope with facial disfigurement? Or for a parent to resort to prostitution to live in the catchment of the best school? And what about suddenly confronting the handicapped, 16-year- old son you never knew you had?

Well this is The Street, (BBC1) where these recent topics have proved so sensitive, so controversial, you wouldn't mention them in polite company. These one-off dramas are the TV equivalent of a trip to the theatre and reminiscent of the pioneering Play for Today. All that links the characters is their postal code and their profound social problems. This road must be Asbo hell.

Jimmy McGovern tutors new writers in a series as intoxicating as a fine wine. In a recent vintage, Kieran, apparently racist to his roots, was caught in a moral trap so profound it changed his self-belief. At the scene of a fire, he was literally left holding the baby his friend, who didn't want to risk losing his disability benefit, had rescued. Heroics are supposed to be for fit types after all.

Laptop love letters in the form of videos exchanged with the child's mother, now the Polish girl of his dreams, allowed Kieran and his lover to share secrets at the poignant press of a switch. Who said computers don't have feelings?

In this week's episode, alcohol was the fire burning the heart of central character, Shay Ryan, played by Stephen Graham, swilling vodka and spraying venom with incendiary verbal violence only softened by the poetry of his language.

The anger and emotion were so raw, it felt as though the characters had no skin to protect them. When Shay's ex, Madeleine, revealed his Down's syndrome son, she was brutally forthright: "I want nothing to do with you. He does." She reminded him why they split: "Sex with you was junk." And when she took their son, Otto, away she was equally frank: "Your dad loves alcohol more than he loves you." For once, I sipped only water.

Shay's view of Down's syndrome children was shocking. He shooed Otto away as if he were a stray dog, telling anyone who would listen: "They're not as intelligent or as athletic as us so let's stress their emotion, shall we? Well that's just gratitude." Embarrassed, I pretended to read the newspaper.

But Shay grew to love his son and leave the booze, just as racist Kieran learned he loved a Polish immigrant, and disfigured soldier, Nick, began to love the world again.

Safe to say that The Street is probably not on Phil and Kirsty's list of hot spots, now they're back helping hopeful couples find dream homes in Location, Location, Location (Channel 4). If houses are selling again, it must be good news for estate agents - knocked off bottom place in the public trust tables because we'd all forgotten they existed.

But this isn't really about houses: it's about the relationship between the home-seekers. "There's poor inter-marital communication between these two," whispers Phil as the search grows desperate. The wall that needs to come down isn't in the property at all. Maybe there is a McGovern plot line in there somewhere.

Ray Tarleton is principal at South Dartmoor Community College in Ashburton, Devon.

Tune in, switch off - Service with a smile

My wife describes the newly refurbished entrance to the hotel that houses our health club as now looking like: “a Parisian brothel”. Well, of course, I would not know. But hang on. How does she? And she tells me that the purple, ultraviolet lights we can dimly make out in the corridors are a drug dealers’ deterrent.

I think she’s been watching too many episodes of Hotel Babylon (BBC One). This week it featured a royal wedding. Or should have done, until the bride ran off with an Eastern European equerry. Don’t you just love the attention to detail?

There was also a philandering photo journalist, Gennaro Fazio, one shot away from paparazzi-dom; and a duped, teen-training Olympic swimmer, with parents from hell.

This was all in a day’s work on the reception desk. For Hotel Babylon is a fast-paced, rat-raced drama with more sub-plots than a Barratt Homes development.

Its owner and manager can’t afford to lose the money from a cancelled royal photo shoot so they plan the scam of a fake wedding. Well, the staff can play all the parts, can’t they? Receptionists, Emily (Alexandra Moen) and Ben (Michael Obiora) star as the bride and groom. Reminded that the wedding isn’t real, the bride swoons anyway: “It’s the fake wedding of my dreams.”

Disguised as an Austrian princess, she can even remember her GCSE German when challenged by the suspicious Fazio. For Ben, it’s an opportunity to fondle his bride’s bum. “Er, why are you doing that?” asks Emily. Even mid swoon, she’s aware that pretence has its limits.

Five-star honest concierge, Tony (Dexter Fletcher), is uneasy about the scam. Wise and totally trustworthy, he really runs the hotel. Just like the caretakers at my school.

Tony could mediate any hostile group. He manages warring parents and teenagers as our Olympic swimmer in training finally revolts against her pressurising parents. I’d like him in my student reception, please. He even appears in dog collar, officiating at the wedding. Perhaps he could even do assemblies.

We knew it would end in leers as Fazio the pap tried to have his wicked way with Juliet, the manager: “In another time, in another place, I would take what I want,” he told her. Some chat up line.

Even Aristotle would have applauded these script writers. For all the loose ends were neatly tucked in; everything fitted into place like one of Phil and Kirsty’s well-designed kitchens.

But should it all seem unbelievable, you’ve never worked in a hotel. In my student days I did: feuds and tricks were common. The head waiter regularly blitzed the beautiful food creations sent up by the chef, hoping to get him sacked.

I wonder what Alex Polizzi, the award-winning hotelier who puts proprietors through their paces in The Hotel Inspector (Five), would have thought of Babylon. She would have sacked the manager of the Rose and Crown, that’s for sure, in one recent episode. She expressed disbelief at the clutter clogging the communal areas. The boss used evasion tactics normally adopted by teenagers who won’t get up in the morning. But its eventual refurbishment brought the locals in for coffee. And there wasn’t a Parisian or purple light in sight.

Ray Tarleton is principal of South Dartmoor Community College in Ashburton, Devon.

Tune in, switch off - Press play, watch the slay

Scenting plunder, dragons became pussycats, all wanting a slice of the action. This was the real poker game. Who would make the first move?

My first questions to the five multi-millionaires in their lairs (Dragons' Den, BBC2) would be: "Tell me about the numbers. What's your financial stake in this TV programme? How much profit will you realise in the next three years? And are you offering the licence payer any equity in the business?"

The fun, of course, comes from their forensic torching of would-be entrepreneurs. These venture capitalists polish their scales but get first pick of the next best investments for themselves.

Theo Paphitis and Duncan Bannatyne, the fiercest fire-breathers, always tell us how hard they've worked to earn their money, even in their best-selling autobiographies. Each is worth more than Pounds 40 million; the piles of cash by their sides prove it.

Peter Jones and James Caan, on the other hand, are smoothy dragons with hearts. Deborah Meaden, though, wouldn't invest in a fairground candyfloss stall, even if sugar grew on trees. She's just a window shopper. It was the dispiriting experience of working for idea-blocking senior colleagues like her that motivated me to become my own boss.

Evan Davis, voice-over to the dramatic music, provides platitudes, just in case we're too thick to understand what's going on. He'd be better doing plot prompts for The Wire.

JJ Hussan, "poker player not gambler", wanted an investment in his gaming business. So what was it exactly? He didn't want to declare his hand. But when the chips were finally down we saw that JJ was just bluff and bluster - a great poker player. Theo claimed to be a calculated-risk-taker rather than a gambler. It came as no surprise that Deborah pulled out early.

Dragon-slaying Sharon had a gadget to get cables easily threaded through house walls. Scenting plunder, dragons became pussycats, all wanting a slice of the action. This was the real poker game. Who would make the first move?

"You're fabulous," leered lizard-like Theo, ready to invest his children's hard-won inheritance, or at least a few thousand quid from his many millions, because "you deserve it". What altruism.

Would Meaden break the habit of a den-time and invest? She offered, but with such a miserly amount, she was left gazing in at the window. And the product was so good, the dragons were the ones who had to confer on the deal, breathing fire and bank notes in secret. Sharon and her gadget were swallowed up before you could snort "Treasure trove".

Elsewhere on the BBC, two other beasts, Cheshire cat, David Cameron, and cowardly lion, Alistair Darling, were lured on to the end of season Andrew Marr Show (BBC1).

Marr was bursting to tell us his news that women are growing more beautiful with each generation. It's a fact. So that means, as the dragons would say, I'm out

Ray Tarleton is principal at South Dartmoor Community College in Ashburton, Devon.