GQ DAILY REVIEW OF FRAMED

All hail Trevor Eve. Obviously he'll never better his work in Eighties Bristol-set private dick drama Shoestring. (He was the eponymous Eddie.) But who would have thought he could have out-performed even his cruel send-up by Harry Enfield as the lead recidivist of the "'Leccy Thieves"? Based ever so loosely on Eve's latterday gig as the Saga set's chief lust interest in Waking The Dead, even Enfield would have struggled to come up with a more preposterous Trev performance than his turn in BBC1's bank holiday Monday drama Framed. This was off-the-scale Eve, huffing and puffing as a strangely dressed (were all those turtlenecks supposed to be hiding something?) National Gallery curator who finds himself, and in true Waking The Dead style, a love-interest half his age and then some, among the bleak, slate-soiled scenery of North Wales. Bravo, Trev: while you're around, acting will always be about pedal-to-the-metal scenery-munching - however fly-away the plotline. There was at least one nuanced performance to be had, by the young lad who played Dylan, the local boy who brings Trevor to an epiphany of sorts (well, about everything but his acting).