The original play, ‘The Black Stuff’, I think it was a pilot, sees Yosser, Dixie, Chrissie et al, a gang of tarmac layers, being ripped off by a subbie. This initial betrayal, at around the time of the first Thatcher recession, sets the scene for what’s to come; the lads, their friends and families are overtaken by the misery and cruelty of mass unemployment, social security grasses, starvation ‘lump’ wages and a general descent into Tory hell.
The ‘Boys from the Blackstuff’ is as good as TV drama gets. The humour got darker and darker as the series progressed; until we get to Yosser Hughs’ story. Yosser’s a single parent, unemployed and only tenuously holding onto his sanity; while all around his way of life and values are attacked by the forces of the state. Close to the end of his tether; Yosser turns to Mother Church for succour.
In the dark of the confession box, he tells a priest “I’m desperate Father!” to which the priest, softly says “My son, call me Dan”. A slight pause is interrupted by one of the most poignant, yet hilarious lines in TV dialogue, as Yosser cries “I’m desperate Dan!” before nutting the dividing screen between himself and the clueless priest.
Finally, social services arrive at Yosser’s home, with filth as back up. In the house, stripped of furniture and fitting, are Yosser and his kids – this is all Yosser has left; he’s jobless, skint and divest of dignity. A sad scene ensues, where the police kick the living shit out of Yosser, who has decided, armed with a baseball bat to fight for the only thing he has left – his young family.
As Yosser lies beaten, again, bloody on the floor in the house, social services begin to ferry the kids into a van. The children are also losing all they have, a demented dad – demented maybe, but still their dad. One child, being held in the arms of a social worker, attempts to plead with her captor. “But, but…” she begins, before being sharply told “No Buts!” But of course, there were; as the little girl demonstrates by nutting her tormentor square on the nose.
Very very funny; yet, achingly sad.