from todays times
THE holiday weekend ended with a most depressing television programme, Rude Girls, on BBC Two. Many readers will have switched off, so I?ll summarise. Over several months the director, Morgan Matthews, followed gangs of teenage girls in Hackney, Dagenham, Luton.
Grotesque female specimens of the nihilistic underclass uttered the je m?en foutisme their backgrounds had taught them: ?I?m bad. I?ve always been bad. I don?t care about nothing.
?I don?t care about death. I can face death.?
In trainers and tracksuits, Dee and Stacey dragged their enormous arses aimlessly through unlovely streets, kicking litter-bins as they passed, arguing and threatening each other, dropping their junk food cartons, looking for fights to pick, to fill in the acres of boredom. What else was there to do? ?Beat people up, nick whatever they?ve got, whack ?em on the head.?
?They talked about it in such a matter-of-fact way, it made me wonder whether it was true,? came the voice of Morgan Matthews. Indeed. For 90 minutes we heard the violent bragging and empty bravado about taking on the world. These girls were 16. Pasty, humourless, expressionless, they smoked, took drugs and drove around recklessly in cars. Their vocabulary was limited to the foul. They didn?t go to school. Sherry and Rachel, sharp 14-year-old girls in Stamford Hill, went around looking for Hasidic Jews to bully and shriek abuse at, including Hasidic schoolchildren, whom they taunted. This was painful to watch. To their credit the Jews kept their dignity and ignored the girls, which made them shriek even more shrilly.
One girl, of mixed race herself, explained: ?The only people I feel racist about is Jewish people cos they look at you as if you?re a piece of shit.? They didn?t like Kosovans or ?Pakis? either.
At the start, Stacey was eight months pregnant. She didn?t know where the dad was and didn?t care. One night she had the baby, Shannon. A hapless doll, Shannon got pushed angrily in her pram as Stacey realised how much the baby cramped her life. ?Now I?ve got a baby I can?t go out much, can?t do this, can?t do that.?
Dee, seeking attention, started to cut up her arms. Stacey and Dee fell out, and Stacey found a new boyfriend who moved in, and changed the baby?s nappy at the bowling alley. Vindictive Stacey and a new friend tried to shop Dee to the police for stealing cars.
Rudee had absorbed some platitudes of self-knowledge.?Sometimes it seems that you?ve got a grudge against the world,? Matthews prompted her. ?I have. Cos I?m in the world and I don?t want to be here. I?m an angry, confused soul. It?s my per- sonality. It?s been like that from when I was young. Built-up feelings lead to ag- gression.?
It transpired that none of the girls had a living father. There were scenes in graveyards, visiting dead dads. Gradually some of the mothers materialised: helpless, hopeless, dim. One of them murmured: ?I should?ve been a bit more stronger. Bit more discipline.?
But this wasn?t the reality TV that John Humphrys deplored in his Edinburgh Television lecture. It was not a Big Brother or Wife Swap situation, set up to trap the gullible. The film seemed authentic and honest, reflecting the lives of a few damaged, damaging, potentially psychotic young women. Though small in scope, it was bound to disturb. Matthews?s restraint inspired our sympathy ? an emotion alien to these poor lonely girls, whether on the giving or receiving end.