On TV

The Inspector Lynley Mysteries (BBC1)

IT'S easy to lose sight of the fact that The Government Inspector is as good and gripping a drama as TV will screen this or any other year.

That aspect of writer-director Peter Kosminsky's drama will undoubtedly get lost amid all the arguments over whether the film - the story of the man caught in the crossfire between the Government and the BBC over the Iraq war - should have been made.

Or, at least, made now, less than two years after David Kelly's death, and while the issues of weapons of mass destruction and validity of going to war are still being questioned. The feelings of Kelly's family have to be considered too.

They and the Government declined to assist Kosminsky in making his film, although there are many public speeches, statements and inquiries on which to base his story. But only one person really knows why David Kelly chose to commit suicide in an Oxfordshire field - and that's Kelly himself.

Kosminksy rejects the conspiracy theory that anyone else was involved in his death. Instead, he builds up a picture of a precise, thoughtful and thorough man who couldn't understand what he'd done wrong.

This chief weapons inspector talks of converting to the Baha'i faith because of its teaching on respect for the truth. He can't bear being lied to, or seeing the public being lied to over the situation in Iraq. "I get an overwhelming urge to tell the truth," he says.

Mark Rylance played him with a quiet sincerity and increasingly anxious look as events spun out of control. Talking to the media about Iraq issues was part of his job description although, once the Government and the BBC began their war of words, Kelly became a pawn in the wrangling.

"What have you done wrong?," someone close asked him.

"I wish I knew," he replied.

Of course, it was impossible as each new scene unfolded not to ask yourself, "Did this really happen?". Was Tony Blair really playing the guitar when Alistair Campbell phoned for a decision on releasing the name of the source who'd made comments about the sexing up of the dossier making the case for war. Did reporter Andrew Gilligan alter the notes of the conversation he had with Kelly? And, on a more personal note, was his wife throwing up into the toilet bowl as he left the house to commit suicide?

There's no doubt that such an important story needs to be told and Kosminsky can be allowed a degree of dramatic licence if his film allows the debate about the David Kelly affair to be re-ignited.

Compared to all that, the return of The Inspector Lynley Mysteries paled into insignificance. This opening story was totally insane with locals behaving like extras in Village Of The Damned after a "London type" was shot.

I wish I could like Nathaniel Parker's snooty detective and his common-as-muck sidekick Sergeant Havers, but I always feel like punching them for being patronising (him) and stage cockney (her).

Kiss Me Kate, Newcastle Theatre Royal

WITH an award-winning Cole Porter crowd-pleaser and a cast clad in £800,000 of costumes, which arrived via Broadway and the West End, this is more than Another Op'nin, Another Show. Strangely, this op'nin number drifts on a little too long before we meet the main protagonists in this Baltimore-based comedy about recently-divorced show stars getting back together for a musical version of The Taming Of The Shrew.

Relatively unknown leads Craig Urbani and Julie-Alanah Brighten live the double life of Fred Graham and Petruchio and Lilli Vanessi and Katherine. There is a sparkle and snap about the pair which is eerily reminiscent of the Howard Keel-Kathryn Grayson 1953 film. Urbani occasionally over-acts but wows us with Where Is The Life? while Brighten's snarling I Hate Men is worth the price of a seat on its own.

Debutant Michelle Francis, in the joint role of Lois Lane/Bianca, is a positive fireball of ginger-haired energy... think Bonnie Langford with sex appeal. The muscular gymnastics of David Sellings as her boyfriend Bill Calhoun/Lucentio is another eye-popper as the vibrant large ensemble make light of the Tyneside stage's lack of dance space. Former EastEnders Michael Greco and Duncan Smith are charged with the comic genius song of Brush Up Your Shakespeare and just about deliver on the money.

Despite the occasional air of going through the motions, this is a performance you're advised not to kiss off.

Viv Hardwick

Runs until Saturday, March 26. Box Office: 0870 905 5060