Impenetrable tale about a pickled penis

Solid Geometry (C4)

Battle Stations (C4)

EVERYTHING clicked into place with the jar containing a preserved penis. Dredging the murkier corners of my mind, I recalled a distant controversy surrounding such an object and a TV play.

Back in the 1970s prim old Auntie BBC halted a production on a play, based on Ian McEwan's short story, through worries about the sexual content. The book was put back on the shelf until now. I wish I could say the wait was worth it.

This was a classy little (30 minutes) film with Ewan McGregor starring and his uncle, Holby City star Denis Lawson, adapting and directing. McGregor duly removed his clothes several times for explicit sex scenes as Phil, who tackles the task of editing the diaries of his great great grandfather.

There are 41 volumes, well 41-and-a-half as the author disappeared halfway through the 42nd volume. The tomes are full of "funny, weird things". So are the boxes that come with then. That's where the pickled penis comes in.

When Phil's wife Maisie (Ruth Millar) smashes the glass container, he buries the member in his primulas. This was probably relevant, but I'd given up trying to figure it out by then. Anyway, Maisie starts suffering from dreadful dreams, Phil begins talking like the diaries, and a strange contraption seems able to make people disappear.

What's it's all about? Answers on a postcard please.

With Battle Stations you knew where you were - at sea. The new military history series opened with the story of HMS Belfast using archive footage, colour re-enactment and survivors' testimony to tell the remarkable tale of the battle cruiser.

Belfast was commissioned barely a month before the Second World War was declared. The ship went on to play key roles in two engagements. Things started badly, as the cruiser became the first victim of a magnetic mine in November 1939. The damage was so bad that scrapping rather than repairing her was considered. Rebuilding kept her out of action for three years, during which time radar was developed.

The new Belfast joined the electronic age that was to revolutionise the war. Conditions for the almost 1,000-strong crew were more primitive. Most ate, worked and slept in the same space. The film told how the Belfast helped sink the German ship Schamhorst, which was preying on Allied convoys. This was the first modern sea battle to rely on electronics, and also the Royal Navy's last big gun battle.

The Belfast had one more important role to play in the war - as one of the ships bombarding the enemy positions to protect the troops landing in Normandy during the D-Day landing. Nowadays HMS Belfast lives on - as a tourist attraction on the Thames in London.

David Gray, Telewest Arena, Newcastle

IT was standing room only at the Arena for unlikely star David Gray, who looked bemused by the storm of applause he received after his first set. An unassuming young man who evidently hasn't spent the royalties from best-selling album White Ladder on personal grooming, Gray's exceptional voice had his audience in thrall. His upbeat version of Soft Cell's Say Hello, Wave Goodbye had everyone bouncing, and the opening bars of Babylon were greeted with a roar of approval. The crowd sang along to this one and it sounded like Wembley on Cup Final day.

When Gray left the stage after an hour-and-a-half some of the audience started to leave, but he bounced back on stage to do the eagerly-awaited This Year's Love, accompanying himself on the piano. This was followed by another up-beat set, with Gray laughing his way through We're Not Right and having a friendly go at the audience for clapping out of time. Latest album A New Day At Midnight featured during the second half.

His percussionist, an excitable gentleman called Clune, added greatly to the evening with his terrific drumming, excellent vocals and an extraordinary Hawaiian-style shirt.

Gray had a lot of fun and so did his audience. I hope he'll be around for a very long time.

Sue Heath

STEVE PRATT

ON TELEVISION

EVERY DAY IN THE NORTHERN ECHO