By Freya Parker, Third Year, English Literature
The highly anticipated spin-off from the BAFTA-winning Motherland (2016-2022) has arrived on our screens, charting the post-divorce life of insufferable yummy-mummy, Amanda (Lucy Punch). In the few years that have passed, Amanda has fallen from her queen bee status in Chiswick: not only has she downsized to an apartment in "SoHa" (her abbreviation of South Harlesden), she's also been forced to take her children out of private school due to her change in financial circumstances ("They’ve got way more chance of getting into Oxbridge from a bog-standard state").
Amanda's relocation allows for a cast of new faces, and the return of some old ones: Philippa Dunne returns as Amanda's self-deprecating sidekick Anne, and Joanna Lumley reprises her role as Amanda's critical and catty mother, Felicity. The four new cast regulars are all school parents too, with big boots to fill considering the beloved characters from Motherland. Samuel Anderson takes on the role of Mal, Amanda's downstairs neighbour, and the foil to her extreme neediness. JJ (Ekow Quartey) is the eager-to-impress stepdad of Mal's son, which forms a rather endearing subplot alongside Amanda's antics. The quartet of fresh faces is completed by chef Della (Siobhán McSweeney) and her wife Fi (Rochenda Sandall), the owners of SoHa's trendiest restaurant, Shin (and later, Double Shin).
Amandaland anchors itself in poking fun at the hypocrisies of the west London middle classes, and in some ways is a case study on what happens when deprived areas are gentrified by electric cars and wannabe influencers. Amanda's newest career venture is her Instagram brand "Senuous" (R.I.P Hygge Tygge), which she wants to launch through a 'co-lab' with a local kitchen and bathroom showroom; in reality, she is hired there as a sales assistant. The situation is comedic and tragic all at once, reviving the familiar humour of its predecessor, whilst creating a sense of bathos for the delusional Amanda.
It's also a brilliantly uncanny observation of modern motherhood, which could have only been written by those who have navigated the pleasures and pains of the school drop-off, teenage rebellion, and parents' evenings. Indeed, one of the highlights of the series is the return of the unhealthily codependent friendship between Amanda and Anne. Whilst Anne insists that they're best friends, Amanda is hesitant to agree, all whilst she treats Anne as a personal assistant.
Punch's turn from a supporting role to the leading alpha mum of her eponymous spin-off, in and of itself reflects Amanda's constant mission of social climbing wherever possible. Behind her cringe-worthy attempts to be down with the kids (references to "Brat girl summer" and "demure" abound), the series lifts the veil from Amanda, and humanises her more than Motherland ever did. There are moments in the series that are unexpectedly moving, and I found myself feeling rather sympathetic towards her as she navigates new relationships and unfamiliar situations, from dating after divorce, to urinating in the woods on a camping trip.
I was somewhat apprehensive after the first episode, as I couldn't help but compare it to Motherland. However, the cast quickly finds their comedic rhythm, measuring up well against the original gang of Julia, Liz, Kevin and Meg. A standout from the series is the budding relationship between Amanda and Mal, an unexpected duo which somehow makes complete sense. If Amandaland is renewed for a second series, I'm keeping my fingers crossed for more of this relationship, and of course for more fantastic one liners from Joanna Lumley!
Amandaland is available to watch on BBC iPlayer.
