Original subtitles

21st April 2013, a Danone Air flight takes off from Oslo Airport

with 250 holiday-makers bound for Athens.

Minutes after take-off,

air traffic control receives Mayday calls from the captain.

Both engines have failed and the autopilot refuses to engage.

This girl had to call her supervisor.

This is the last contact anyone ever has with the stricken aircraft.

The wreckage was found strewn across this farmer's field,

here in the Austrian region of Pferdekot.

Evidence still abounds everywhere.

This bolt...

..smells of aviation fuel.

It was clearly used to secure the wing.

I'll try and sell it later.

But what caused the crash?

In the following days, speculation mounted over what went wrong.

Some think the copilot, Grant Elliot, misread altitude data,

initiating a climb that caused catastrophic loss of thrust.

Others, that a fuel transfer valve malfunctioned,

leaving the plane with...

INCOHERENT OVERLAPPING NARRATION

Why was a woman flying a plane?

Whatever happened on that fateful day,

250 package holiday-makers never reached Athens.

In fact, this fatal accident never happened.

I made one up so I didn't get into trouble with a real airline.

There is no Danone Air.

That's the name of a yoghurt drink.

Grant Elliot is the name of my physio,

and even the Austrian region of Pferdekot

translates as horse shit.

This is actually Swaffham!

But it's the kind of all-too-plausible timeline

that can reveal a very real truth.

Just as an aircraft black box can learn us

the fatal flaws that made a plane crash,

perhaps it's time for me to look inside my own black box...

GRUNTS

Fucking... Ah!

This is just a painted cigarette case

to reveal the flaws that made me malfunction.

Time, then to examine the black box that is my mind.

Welcome to...

How are you?

I'm Alan Partridge.

Six months ago, I passed out

in a woman's lap at a product launch for Bannroyd Pig and Cow Feed.

Like many experts, I suspected it was the result

of a mental health concern,

giving me sufficient grounds to embark on a journey

into my own mental state and the mind of the nation.

I've forgotten what dill looks like!

Along the way, I've helped dozens of people better

understand their mental health and turn their lives around.

I would love to live here, I really would.

But I'm yet to solve the conundrum in my own mind.

Recovered!

What's at the root of my mental malaise?

With time running out, will I ever find the answers I need?

Substation.

Substation.

In 2022, as part of BBC Four's history of electricity season,

I pitched a programme about electrical substations.

Substation.

And although it wasn't picked up for series,

I've never lost my fascination with these most mysterious of buildings.

Substation.

I find myself drawn to them, just as I am,

or at least have been in this series, to the human mind.

A British electricity substation -

familiar sights in these residential areas.

These humming hives of activity seem strangely unknowable,

rather like the human mind.

We know where they are, we can hear them whirring,

but can we ever truly know what goes on behind those walls,

or... or on that roof?

Well, when it comes to our mental health, I believe we can.

Because while we will never know what is contained

IN or ON a substation...

..I intend to get answers about my own mind.

Will it be easy? No way.

Where I come from,

it's easy to lose yourself in the carousel of plush business lunches,

private racquets clubs, backslaps, big laughs, two-handed handshakes.

Here, mental health is as far down the agenda

as your cleaner's surname.

Mental health isn't what people like I do, and yet do it I am doing.

Were there traumas in my past that had led to my mental health issues?

It was time to find out.

And so, I set to work.

With the help of a mindfulness CD that came free with

the Daily Express, I began to take a look back at my life,

running through past experiences, scurrying down buried memory lane,

pounding the pavement of remembering road.

And there, amid memories of scout camp

and my dead mum's landline number,

lay an incident that doesn't bother me,

but has never truly been put to bed.

Stop it!

One that marked the end of a special relationship.

From 2019 to 2021, I was lead co-host of the BBC's early

evening magazine show, This Time, a role in which I thrived.

And welcome to the show that covers the full spectrum of human life.

From aqua aerobics to abortion, from zebras to Zionism.

The show that promises to be all things...

..to all men. And all women.

And everything in between.

But behind the scenes,

concerns were mounting over the BBC's editorial slant,

which combined Oxford clever-cloggery

with a constant dumbing down.

When you're around them such a long time,

it is hard not to get attached.

Aw! Aw!

I think I'm a bit in love.

Aw! Aw! Bless them. Aw!

Concerns that came to a head, my head,

one fateful summer's evening in 2021.

I am hopping mad and I want something in the middle!

I don't like Julian Fellowes, I just don't like him!

Is it snowing where you are?

Do you like fireworks?

What's your favourite soup?

Who gives a shit?

But let me be clear.

There was simply no excuse for expressing my views

in such a strident way on a live television broadcast.

OK, I received messages of support from the names you'll see

at the bottom of your screen,

and in an email, broadcaster Kevin McCloud said...

And even though that contains almost no English words,

it's cool to know he was onside.

But let me be clear, again, I lost the run of myself.

I went too far.

They won't let me back in the BBC.

The BBC can be criticised for many things,

from making newsreaders stand,

to going on and on about BBC Sounds,

to Nicholas Witchell,

but removing me from their employment isn't one of them.

I supported that decision.

And it's time I told them so,

which is why years after my departure,

they've agreed to meet me.

I'll be returning to BBC Broadcasting House,

and it feels right.

The hulking structure that is the BBC.

The old building, where Charles de Gaulle rallied the French resistance

to repel the Nazis

and, alongside Winston Churchill, helped win the Second World War,

and the new building, where they did a dance marathon for Sport Relief.

For decades, this magnet-shaped building has attracted

talented people, and people who went to university with

the talented people, and the children of the talented people.

And while some say the tons of glass and steel could've been used

to make a billion hospital thermometers,

or ten Princess Diana memorials,

there's one man who doesn't have an axe to grind.

His name...

Alan... You all right, mate?

Yeah, I'm just writing my name with my face.

Alan Partridge.

Look after yourself, yeah?

Verity Howard is the BBC head of people, and I'm hoping she'll

provide an insight into the way the corporation thinks.

The word verity means truth,

so here's hoping she lives up to her name.

Then again, the woman who used to work in compliance was called Joy,

and my God, talk about a bum steer.

Yeah, so hugely impressed with what you guys have been up to recently.

I've been watching your output since I left,

and I've got to say, some good shows.

Thank you, that's always nice to hear.

Yeah. Inside the Factory, Casualty, Vigil,

who would've thought murder on a submarine would work?

And yet, so very nearly did.

I thought Waterloo Road series 13 was a stonking return to form.

Doctor Who is on as well, with David Tennant,

who I actually think is good.

Thank you. David was actually about four Doctors ago.

Yeah, as I say, I don't really watch children's TV.

But it's great to be back.

Bet it brings back some memories. Oh, it does, yeah.

There was a rather dishevelled chap who used to sleep in his office.

I don't think he was a workaholic,

I think he just... His wife just didn't love him any more.

That's him.

You've got to be very careful about who you mention on television

these days, but he's called Alan Douglas,

and he lives in Kensal Rise,

and, as I say, his wife doesn't love him any more.

I just wanted to say upfront, I have no beef with the Beeb.

I'm not anti-auntie.

I'm simply here to open the windows, clear the air, and just say,

friends?

Well, I hope we are friends.

And if there's anything I can do to provide more clarity,

I am happy to do so.

Well, from where I'm sitting,

you were absolutely right to terminate my contract.

We declined to renew your contract.

I mean, if I were you, I wouldn't employ that guy.

I don't even recognise him, you know.

I mean, he had a moment of madness, you pulled the trigger, bang, dead.

He went down.

Well, if it's any comfort, it wasn't just one moment.

Generally, an isolated incident would be,

first and foremost, a welfare issue.

When Nick Knowles thumped Pudsey.

Whereas an ongoing situation invokes different protocols.

No need for an explanation.

Sometimes you have to make a decision on a whim, I get it.

But obviously we don't make these decisions on a whim.

It was very much made in the round

and in this case, based on audience research.

And it might not be in-depth research,

but it's still research, isn't it?

As you can see, this is an audience appreciation survey,

broken down into different segments of our audience, showing,

I'm sorry to say, very low appreciation amongst millennials...

Good.

..and diverse audiences. Who've never liked me.

So, I'd have to push back a little

and say it's actually quite detailed.

Mm, mm, you brought a copy with you, which is very thoughtful,

and it is, as you say, quite detailed, as opposed to,

I don't know, very detailed? That's interesting.

Where does it lack detail, would you say?

I'm not seeing any scores among the,

and it's a demographic I score quite highly with,

white dads over 40, what I like to call the WD40s.

Our research also shows that viewers are less likely to tune in,

and far less likely to stay with the channel when you're on,

so we've got to take that into account.

Thanks for printing that.

I've got a few data points of my own I'd like to share,

and these are the audience attendance figures

for the North Norfolk Digital Summer Road Show, and as you can see,

sharp rise in audience attendance over the fortnight where I hosted.

Ignore this day where there's a dip. A cow escaped.

He was captured quite soon, but a boy was trampled.

We also sourced testimonials from our internal stakeholders,

and a similar picture emerges.

Right, interesting list of personnel.

I'd start by saying he's an alcoholic,

so you can scratch his name off. Oh, well, let's not get into...

Alcoholic, alcoholic, toilet cocaine,

chin tuck and lovechild, um...

Interesting name for a detective series, isn't it?

Chin Tuck and Lovechild, starring... Felicity Kendal, Trevor Eve,

Sanjeev Bhaskar... I don't know, you figure it out.

Stick it out on Sunday night for idiots to watch.

Sorry.

These are highly experienced commissioners and programming...

Yeah, I also have a list of testimonials from producers

I've worked with, none of whom have lovechildren or substance issues.

This one guy did have a chin tuck that went wrong.

Here's a picture of him, and bigger.

Er, I'm sorry, who's Pete Gabbitas?

Oh, Pete Gabbitas. Oh, where to start?

Um, Pete used to run Blue Barn Media, in Norfolk.

Yeah, he's the genius behind Foot & Mouth: Fire in the Farmyard,

which won a NAFTA.

And of course, who can forget Welcome to Rymans?

I'll send you his showreel. It's on VHS.

Yes, that's fine. Well, thank you for bringing all that in.

And thank you for thanking me. And thank you. Thank you.

And don't make a series called Chin Fuck & Lovechild

without my permission. Thank you. Thank you. Thanks.

I thought long and hard about whether to say this

in a documentary, but say it I will.

I did not like that woman,

and was proud to have come out of the exchange on top, even though

she recognised my laptop as BBC property and I had to give it back.

Driving home, I felt at peace, using the steering wheel as a drum,

when safe to do so, and chatting pleasantly with a member of staff.

One word, Lynn - catharsis.

Know what it means?

It's a feeling of being cleansed after an emotional release.

Nice try, not too wide of the mark.

It's feeling chipper, after putting someone in their place

and moving on.

Oh, I suppose they already feel chipper, cos they moved on ages ago.

No, not them, Lynn.

Me. I feel, I feel chipper.

Why would they feel, why would the BBC feel chipper?

Well, because they've managed to bring in new people

so things don't go stale.

Lynn, I know bread goes stale, and I'm pretty sure croissants go

stale, but I've never heard of a seasoned broadcaster going stale.

But, um...

..maybe you're right, you know.

Maybe employees do go stale.

Maybe I should put my own staff under review.

See who else is out there.

Fine by me.

OK, dig out your CV, we'll get you re-interviewed.

How about Friday? 9am? Perfect.

Great.

Cathartic it may have been,

but looking back at this footage, I realised I'd over-criticised

a woman who deserved less criticism, and I couldn't back down.

The peace I'd been seeking continued to elude me.

Aah!

It says here that in 1990,

you worked for Lunn Poly as a travel agent.

Sorry, travel assistant.

I mean, you know all this.

So, it's all great.

A few questions.

Can you tell me the exchange rate from the dollar to the pound,

please? Oh, I don't know.

I'd have to call in to the bureau de change.

Will I need a coat when I'm opening the garden centre tomorrow?

You'd have to see how it feels.

Can you tell me what day the 26th January fell on last year?

Oh...

Yeah, it doesn't matter.

I have to tell you, the other two candidates fared very well on this.

Other two candidates?

I've got their names here.

Um...

Yes, er...

..earlier I interviewed Alexa and Siri.

Well, they're not really personal assistants.

Siri, can you cancel my meeting with John Bezel, please?

PHONE BEEPS Meeting cancelled. Send it?

Yes.

Alexa, can you add talcum powder to my shopping list, please?

Talcum powder added to your shopping list.

Thanks, love.

You see my problem, don't you? Mm.

She does everything you do, and attitude-wise, well...

Do they fold your underwear?

Well, no, she doesn't have... Do they loosen your shoelaces

so they slip on when you next wear them?

Again, she can't...

Do they lie to Jeremy Vine and say you're not in when you are?

Do they send birthday cards to your grandchildren?

Do they Febreze your car seat?

Do they inspect the lawn after it's mown

and tell the gardener YOU want it shorter?

Do they look up your nose to see if your nasal hairs have grown thick?

Do they phone ahead to tell restaurants you don't

like chatty waiters?

Do they pretend not to hear you tut and sigh and mutter and whine?

SIREN BLARES IN DISTANCE I wasn't aware you did those things.

Is that a police car coming here?

That's an ambulance!

It's going next door.

Katrina! What's wrong?

It's Daryl. Oh, thank God!

I think it's a heart attack.

How? Were you having sex with one another?

Was it from having sex with one another?

Daryl Leonard Flench was a visionary.

Starting out with just one tanning salon, Brown Dreams,

he would go on to become the largest operator of tanning salons

in the whole of Norfolk, and look what it's become.

You see a brown person in Norfolk today,

who wasn't originally brown, and you know exactly who made them be brown.

These guys, Flench & Son Tanning Centres.

Norfolk's premium tanning centres.

The CEO, this fella, Daryl Flench.

I don't think I've seen him in such a light shade of brown.

And of course, he used to wear a lot of gold.

This is plastic, of course.

But, in fact, long after Daryl and the, er,

wooden coffin have decomposed...

..the gold plastic handles...

..will last for a thousand years.

But what of the real Daryl?

To me, Daryl was a humble young man from Diss,

whose warmth I know we'll all miss.

A life of great wealth and largely good health,

such a shame that it ended like it unfortunately has done.

Sorry, I almost slipped into a limerick there, purely accidental.

It's actually one of the few forms of poetry that, er, Daryl enjoyed.

Um, Daryl had such a passion for life.

He loved beef, red wine, Ted Baker suits and Tinder.

Sure, he had his vices.

It's often said he made his money in the UV light district,

and spent it in the red one.

But I know he was trying to cut down.

Was he perfect? Maybe not.

I should know. He stole my girlfriend.

CHUCKLING

But, er, I don't mind, because he's dead now.

Katrina, worry not for Daryl.

I'd put money on the fact that he's probably up there right now,

cavorting with a lovely brown, topless angel.

And if you ever need a shoulder to cry on, Katrina...

..just to let you know,

I've got two of them, and they're both waterproof.

He's survived by his ex-wife, and his four, possibly 12, children.

Thank you.

..our brother Daryl, and we commit his body to the...

Ironic that he wanted to be buried,

given that he spent his whole life slowly cremating himself.

LYNN CHUCKLES

Sh!

Humans respond to grief in a myriad of different ways.

The way we bereave is as individual as dental records.

For every friend who erects a memorial rockery to a dead wife,

another will lose thousands betting on cock fights in a Norfolk barn.

Other reactions include sulking, hoarding and buying a motorbike.

So, I refuse to judge anyone whose reaction

doesn't conform to the norm.

But you're grieving. Shut the fuck up.

Sorry for your loss.

So sorry for your loss.

I'm sorry for your loss.

The end, then, to a very sad day, a day of quiet reflection.

My deepest condolences.

I just hope now that Katrina will be given the space that she needs

to mourn her loss, to reach a form of acceptance,

and to move on in a hopeful way.

It's funny, Daryl's death

and burial in the ground kind of puts things in perspective.

Somehow, finding the precise cause of my mental woe doesn't feel

that important any more.

It's called acceptance,

and far from being a modern rebranding of the words

"giving up", it's actually the final step

on the road to mental wellbeing.

As my fat nanny used to say, as she'd sit in her armchair,

knitting mittens, "Stop crying like a softie, pull your finger out,

"and get on with it!"

Or, as the zen Chinese proverb puts it,

"Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water.

"After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water."

I really like the Chinese.

If you asked me to name my top five Chinese things,

I would say t'ai chi, lifting almost a billion people out

of poverty over the last 40 years, kung fu, prawn toast and wisdom.

They had this sussed a long time ago.

They were talking about mental wellbeing,

while people in Britain were still making houses out of shit.

Acceptance has changed me.

No longer so easily spun out by a dizzying array of anxieties,

my ship has steadied.

I feel as grounded and stable as a very squat man.

Oh, my God.

So, Philip, what you're saying is, when it comes to these girls,

it's very much a case of, you know, put good stuff in,

you get good stuff out. Exactly.

It's all about ensuring the best possible quality, from pig to plate.

Always use nutritious feed, because, in a sense, what they eat, we eat.

Yeah, yeah.

Although wouldn't want to eat pellets.

Um, now, that fat pig,

she's going to keep a country pub in scratchings for, what, a decade?

Oh, easy. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Sometimes you get a pork scratching with a hair in.

Doesn't bother me.

I've spent weeks asking, "How are you?" But how am I?

Well, in a sense, I've come home, because nine months after

collapsing on the groin of its chief executive, I'm pleased to say

I'm Manning the mic once again for Bannroyd Animal Feed.

Have I gone nowhere, or come full circle? It's the second one.

Now, this bacon, bacon A, is from a stock bred on low-quality feed,

without the added protein.

OK. Er...

..and it's all right to eat bacon in front of a pig, I mean, ethically?

Yeah. Yeah, yeah.

Please don't eat my mother.

Now, bacon B is from a pig reared on Bannroyd feed.

Straight away, you'll notice it's got much, much more flavour,

and it's got that lovely colour on the back there.

So, why don't you try it?

I can't do it, Philip.

This pink one keeps looking at me out of the corner of her eye.

No-one should have to hear someone say,

"I don't like the taste of your mum."

You know, that's a private matter.

I mean, if it helps, I mean, they'd eat this.

Only cos they don't know what it is.

I'm saying, you can make pork scratchings out of my mother...

Which is why...

..and I'd probably eat them, but if you told me what it was,

I'd say, "Get that stuff away from me! I loved her!"

Which is why Bannroyd feed is so good for the pigs,

because it's got...

Bannroyd, yeah, I know. It's about Bannroyd, it's about Bannroyd.

Yeah, well, Bannroyd Animal Feed is fine.

Some people mischievously regard corporate

presenting as the elephant's graveyard for old white men.

I see it for what it really is - a great way to boost income

and foster a mutually beneficial brand association.

For me, that has to be Bannroyd Animal Feed,

trotters down the best in class, and a great way to bring home the bacon.

OINKS

Couldn't oink for a second.

What a polo goal! What a polo goal.

Yes, I'm pleased to say I've never been happier with a life,

a home, and a woman I genuinely love.

Well done, Zack, Xander, and Zav! Abzolutely Zuperb.

A year ago, I'd have said polo was a tedious gaggle of Britain's most

hateful and chinless people, but Katrina likes it, and now I do too.

Awesome chucker, awesome chucker.

With players hailing from the home counties, Argentina,

and increasingly the Gulf states, the horse and hammer-based sport

is a great opportunity to meet a real variety of people of wealth...

..And I'm still trying to get sponsored to get my invite to

St Barts, but that man, he is all mouth and no trousers.

ALL CHUCKLE

Love to go to St Barts.

Alan thinks it's a hospital.

That's true, I'm unbelievable!

Indeed, a few quiet moments listening to my old radio station

merely reminds me how much happier I am.

You're listening to Carl Branning. And Simon Denton.

Brenning and Denton, B-A-D, bringing you B-A-D radio.

You can say that again. This is North Norfolk Digital.

So, a content man with a content mind,

at the end of a journey that might not have provided all

the answers to our mental health crisis...

I never asked you out. No.

..but it has somehow come together...

Jesus!

..to create a series that's both informative and accessible...

Cobbles.

..that would work for either terrestrial channels or streamers...

I was told you threw a brick at a swan?

..with a style that feels genuinely fresh

and easily returnable across multiple series.

Shit!

And here in my hometown, freed from the chains of past trauma,

I'm able to once again enjoy the simple pleasure that is Norwich.

Today, my mental wellbeing comes from walking...

Afternoon.

..talking, and that word again, acceptance.

Because sometimes, enlightenment comes when you stop looking for it.

There's a ladder there.

Oh, my God.

Sometimes you don't need therapy or a journey of self-discovery.

You just need to get onto a roof full of lost footballs

and hoof them off.

Hoppipolla by Sigur Ros

To me, every football freed felt like a problem forgotten.

Professional jealousy, distant grandkids, gums receding,

miss my dog, bullied in bed, ISA underperforming, horrible mum.

Each one of these bad boys was tossed off, and it felt good.

MUSIC CRESCENDOS

MUSIC STOPS ABRUPTLY

You're not allowed up there, mate.

I'm coming down.

MUSIC RESUMES