Bride and Prejudice, Channel 4, TV review: Does true love really conquer all?

Couples face a variety of obstacles as they approach the altar. Plus: Ackley Bridge (Channel 4)

Dee, 24, and John, 59, who bonded over local government, prepare to tie the knot (Channel 4)

The title might be a bit of a cliche, but it pretty much catches the essence of this new Channel 4 series that, I suppose, seeks to find out if love really conquers all.

Thus far, we’ve met six couples facing varying degrees of hostility from their families as they approach the altar. In terms of “ticking the boxes”, or whatever the antithesis of that might be, Jamie and Shaaba brought the biggest challenge to the party: a white man and a woman of Mauritian heritage who are very obviously and very sincerely utterly in love with each other. That racial dimension was tricky enough for Shaaba’s mum Fai to deal with, and she makes no secret of her preference that “her girls” should marry a string of nice Mauritian boys. That, though, wasn’t the main issue for Fai.

What could it be, one wondered? We were kept in suspense for a good while.

Can’t be the age gap, as they’re both 23. Can’t be class, seeing as they both went to the University of Essex and seem conventional professional types. No. Some way into the documentary, we learned – a genuine surprise this – that this very boyish-looking boy, Jamie, complete with bum-fluff beard, was in fact transgender. That, Fai conceded, was the main issue; that her daughter’s best friend, a girl, was now a boy. The white bit paled into insignificance, if you’ll pardon the expression.

So far – there’s another four episodes to go – Fai seems very awkward about the proposition, but maybe not quite as outspoken as the parents of Rob, the older half of a gay couple also planning to get spliced.

Just in case you thought that old-fashioned social views had perished some time during Tony Blair’s time in office, allow me to quote the well-meaning but uncomprehending remarks by Rob’s dad Steve and mum Linda. I ought also to mention, by way of background, that Rob has been married before, to a woman, and has two children by that relationship.

Steve: “If he was a genuine gay you’d notice it from a very early age, the mannerisms...”

Linda (does limp hand gesture): “...Limp hand...”

Steve: “Just signs...”

Linda: “The way they walk...”

Steve. “Certain signs. When he was growing up he used to bring some cracking birds round – big-chested things”.

It was as if every gay man had to behave like John Inman to be believed. They told Rob that his shocked nan refused to accept he was gay, in a desperate final attempt to prevent the public ceremony that would indeed confirm his status. Steve was defiant: “She’ll believe it when she sees us snogging on that wedding day.”

Which I think is a theme that unites all these couples, trans, gay, straight, young, old, young and old: that the wedding day itself, that grand public, legally binding ceremony with all that it implies, forces so many issues. The Big Day pushes friends and families into all sorts of choices and to accept or reject what is going on. It makes you wonder whether such a forcing of emotions and consequent rifts is always worth it.

Fortunately for 24-year-old Dee, her granddad Paul eventually agreed, at the very last moment, to give her away to her new husband and to make a speech at the reception. It fell to Paul because Dee’s dad died when she was 13. A gracious speech it was too, after Paul finally, finally accepted that she was marrying John “and that’s it”. Why the fuss?

John, you see, is 59, and quite an old 59 at that. Then again, Dee has quite a middle-aged sort of outlook, and a shared passion for politics and local government pushed them together. So that gives you a clue. They got married in Councillor John’s place of work, the magnificent Guildhall in Hull.

It was very affecting to see John crack with emotion as he tried to get through the vows. I began to believe in the hackneyed adage that “age is just a number” – until, that is, John wisecracked that his wedding was “a day I will never forget – unless I get Alzheimer’s”. It occurred to me then that when Dee is the age John is now, he will be a ripe old 94. Till death us do part, as they say.

For many years now I was dismayed by the ethnic mix of shows such as EastEnders and Coronation Street. Set in fictional east London and fictional Lancashire respectively, they had laughably few characters from BAME groups. It wasn’t just a question of political correctness (though there’s nothing wrong with that), but simply that the shows looked silly. In truth it’s not much better now.

No such complaints about Ackley Bridge, now embarked upon a welcome second run. Set in a northern mill town (or ex-mill town, to be more accurate), it’s about two schools merging together, one predominantly Asian with a significant Muslim intake, the other white. It’s like a grittier, multicultural version of Hollyoaks, if that makes any sense, and vastly better.

There’s lots of edgy issues – racism, women’s position in Muslim homes, LGBT+ rights, coming out, bullying, adolescent angst, exam pressures – but Ackley Bridge had the strange effect of making me feel a lot more positive and optimistic about the world (no mean feat). Here, then, is a British TV drama that puts a mirror up to those much-maligned northern communities, and what you saw was credible, hopeful and mercifully free of too many stereotypes (if occasionally a little fanciful). The young actors – particularly Gurjeet Singh, Amy-Leigh Hickman, Poppy Lee Friar, and Maariah Hussain (as Alya Nawaz, a brilliantly spiteful piece of work) were superb. They, and some nice, witty, sassy writing (“tongue sandwich” for a kiss, for example), made it punchy and pacey.

I would be very pleased indeed if Ackley Bridge evolved into a proper, permanent soap, a modern-day Corrie. The viewing public badly need a fresh one. Maybe when Channel 4 itself moves “oop North” it will take on the challenge.