Blue steal

Good old nurse Charlie Fairhead turns up early on in Holby Blue to remind us that TV's newest cop show is a relative of those two stalwarts of the BBC1 schedule, Casualty and Holby City. The makers insist that there the resemblance ends, that Holby Blue is tougher and grittier.

The evidence of the first episode doesn't bear that out - and, besides, you can't be very tough or gritty in a pre-watershed slot.What Holby Blue does resemble is every other TV police series, including the obligatory sprinkling of ex-soap stars in leading roles.

It's faster and flashier than The Bill but the police officers, of whom there are far too many to give but a fleeting impression so far, are the familiar bunch of rule-breakers, ambitious sidekicks, comic newcomers, strict but compassionate boss, and randy reprobate. The main one, DI John Keenan (Cal Macaninch), even comes with a failing marriage. He smashes a light on the car of his wife's new boyfriend, then gets an officer to stop the vehicle and get the chap's details so he can check him out.

His marital problems are affecting his work. Faced with an anxious man with a knife - clearly angered by the annoying background music throughout the show - he tells him "You're stressed? I have two mortgages to pay".

His boss (Tim Pigott-Smith) shouts a lot but happily turns a blind eye to Keenan's unorthodox methods, such as dropping a bowling ball on a criminal's foot to disable him, because he gets results. Just in case all the rushing around doesn't make us realise these Holby South coppers are extremely busy, every five minutes one of them says: "We're all stretched". Kacey Ainsworth's inspector even goes into detail, explaining that she has seven police officers on the current shift to police a population of 15,000.

This is a show with a message. Several times Tony Jordan's script has its characters mouth off about resources being used to fight the war on terror rather than routine crime.

When a suspect they fear will re-offend has to be released due to lack of evidence, Keenan says "Convince the Chief Constable he's a suicide bomber and you can hold him indefinitely." He really has a bee in his bonnet. "People aren't worried about being blowing up, they're worried they can't get to the chippie without being mugged or raped, or both," he moans.

For all its supposed toughness, Holby Blue can't resist getting all soapy. We leave Keenan in the bed of a colleague after she's inquired if he's slept with anyone since breaking up with his wife. Finding out the answer is "no", she promises to be gentle, muttering something about "like a virgin all over again".

Rather than romping in the bedroom, Keenan would be better deployed dealing with those commiting The Seven Sins Of England - listed in Joseph Bullman's original documentary as binge drinking, consumerism, hooliganism, slaggishness, rudeness, violence and bigotry.

We all encounter these in our lives today but the film proves these are nothing new. If people who say society has never been so bad look back through the history books, they'll find that "we've been violent, foul-mouthed hooligans for more than 1,000 years".

Our sins are what made our country great. Bullman's brilliant trick is to get modern day sinners on a riotous, raucous Friday night out in Essex to speak "the real words of our p***ed-up, anti-social ancestors".

We learn that gin fever provoked a House of Lords debate back in 1743, that rowdy Englishwomen had the worse reputation in Europe in the 17th Century, that French tourists were complaining about the rude English in 1765, and the talk was of "hooligan nights" in 1899.

As for tolerance, the English took against Dutch asylum seekers in the 16th Century and were complaining about the "alien invasion", accusing Jewish immigrants of stealing their jobs, as far back at 1891.

It all shows that, just like in a TV cop show, there's nothing new under the sun.