Okay, so this show is about Billie Piper being all sexy, and rolling around in her underwear, right? Okay, let's give that a shot. I don't think I ever found her Doctor Who character all that sexy, but it's hard to remember what I actually thought at the time, because my memory is kind of tainted by my exasperation at spending an entire season watching the Doctor mooning over her. How come he never mentions the other 30 (or whatever) companions he's had? However, that may well be considered irrelevant to the show at hand. Let's get it on!
The first shot is very blurry. Before I can start making up elaborate theories about how this represents something (probably "having an artsy cameraman"), Billie Piper is in with a voice-over. It appears that she loves London. She also loves its rudeness, its lack of community, its impatience, and its weather, in that order. Meanwhile, the cameraman has figured out where the focus button is, so the thin black blur in the front has resolved into Billie Piper as well. That's convenient. She also loves anonymity. Oh, and she's a whore.
Normally, I do not approve of calling women whores. It's a cheap, easy insult. However, I have a feeling that on a show where the main character in fact has sex for money, it may be unavoidable. Luckily for me, the English language is full of synonyms for that profession, so let's just dive right in to Secret Diary of a Woman Who's No Better Than She Should Be (thanks, Victorians!).
She goes on to explain that you can tell a prostitute because she's the one in the designer suit, who's "fabulous but forgettable" and doesn't attract attention. She leads into the credits by telling us that "This isn't the real me." The credits involve a lot of close-ups of a television showing somebody putting on makeup.
An alarm goes off, showing Billie Piper (until I get a character name, I'm perfectly happy to call her by both names like that) in bed. She sits up and says she doesn't care whether I call her an escort, a hooker, a prostitute, or a whore. That's good, because as far as I'm concerned, she's a Member of the Oldest Profession, a Nymph of the Pavement, and a Strumpet. As she puts on a robe (which completely fails to cover her butt), she soliloquizes that there are many different types of working girl. She also emphasizes that she was not abused by a relative, has no children to support, and has never been addicted to anything, except for the fourth season of The West Wing. Really? The season that started with Josh, Donna, and Toby lost in Indiana because they didn't understand time zones and ended with Bartlet's daughter being kidnapped?
"I'm very high class," assures Billie Piper while sitting on the toilet. That means she charges a lot. It further transpires that she does it because she loves both sex and money, and also being her own boss. She does have to work with an agent, which she does via phone while being in the bath. Her agent instructs her to shit, shower, and shave because a client is on his way over. Close-ups of makeup being applied: do they ever get old?
Sitting in one of those weird chairs that hang from the ceiling, Billie Piper informs us of her rules. Rule One is "Keep life and job separate," which she does by having two phones, two rooms, and a divided closet. Also she has two names, which are "Hannah" (normal person) and "Belle" (erotic professional). I shall refer to her as "Belle". Because it's shorter. Also because let's face it, she's going to be in work mode most of the time anyway. Rule Two, delivered to us while a man in a suit hands over an envelope full of money, is "Stay in control." When the customer is sitting down, she stands up, takes the money, and walks away. He sits there uncomfortably sipping champagne and probably wondering who she's talking to.
Rule Three, delivered while checking the money with one of those pens which magically tells you if money is counterfeit, is "Safety". Check in with the agency and use code words like "No problemo" to communicate danger. Man, I wish my job came with magic pens and code words. Rule Four is "hygiene," which means that she makes the client take a shower and brush his teeth. She probably did that earlier. She also uses men's deodorant and no perfume, so that her client won't go home "smelling of woman". This is the first time we've seen her in lingerie. Just thought I'd mention it. She also preapplies some, er, "wetness" and demonstrates that she has a condom ready. Rule Four (or possibly Five if the perfume thing was an official rule): "Work out what the client wants as fast as you can, and give it to him."
The client, shirtless and wearing silly sideburns, enters. He tries to describe his fantasies while Belle administers oral pleasure (I don't guarantee I'm going to go with the highfalutin' euphemisms the whole time, mind you), but all he can come up with is "outside". Belle encourages him along as best she can with her mouth full, and eventually works around to being a country girl on a farm. There is ribald animal talk, and the metaphor appears to be that Sideburns is a powerful stallion. That works for him, and there is a sudden burst of London Street Montage.
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Belle tells people she's a legal secretary, because it's so boring that no one ever asks for details. And even her best friend Ben doesn't know what she does. Speaking of Ben, here he is now, being suspiciously excited about the handmade crust on his custard tart. His girlfriend Vanessa has put him on a diet so he has to sneak out if he wants to eat anything but tofu. More London Streets intervene before Belle and Ben arrive at a real estate office and go off to tour a house that I believe they have no intention of buying. They amuse themselves by guessing what sort of person owns the house, and by occasionally goosing each other. Belle plays a hesitant Chopsticks on the piano and then they run away.
Later, Belle profiles her upcoming client based on the hotel bar. It's his first time with a Professional Seamstress, so she expects him to be recently retired and looking to feel powerful. She congratulates herself on being good at her job just as the client comes up. He is young and, judging from the T-shirt/Sport Coat ensemble, has stepped directly out of 1987. In the hotel room, he seems stiff (har har!) and uncomfortable during the experience, so she tries to loosen him up by using a vibrator on herself. He can't even look at her and scuttles off with a towel around his waist. He thanks her and apologizes, several times each, and runs away. That's the second paragraph in a row where someone's run away from something.
Sitting around a table in a restaurant, Belle, the agent, and the other Ladies of the Evening discuss business. The agent encourages everyone to refrain from dessert and harasses the one named Rachel about how much Rachel owes. The details aren't important, but the point is that the agent emphasizes that she has books and records and charts and graphs, while all Rachel has is dyed roots so she can shut up. on the agenda: someone with fake money. He is Eastern European, which generates an argument over the difference between racism and prejudice. The argument ends, as such arguments always do, with Belle wishing she could be more pixelated on the website so that her parents won't find out what she does. Then everyone's sent of to do their jobs because it's the holiday season.
Belle takes a moment to talk to the agent about what her panicky client didn't like. He's booked another appointment -- now, wait. That didn't sound right. How about this: he's made another assignation, but this time, he's specifically asked for "the girl door. Jeans, no makeup." Belle is sad that she didn't deliver what he wanted, but maybe not everyone wants "high class".
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In Belle's flat, the awkward young man from before is sitting awkwardly. Belle strolls in, in jeans, no makeup, and carrying two beers. It appears that she has poached him from Rachel and is acting embarrassed about not being primped up. The client asks why she's wearing shoes in her flat, and she guesses that he's into feet. Before she can get out of the room and start enacting all those rules from before, they're writhing around on the couch gasping. Her cell phone rings, and I assume it's the work one because she has to say "No problem" in it several times to emphasize that everything's okay.
Later, in what I believe is referred to as "the afterglow," the client is rubbing Belle's shoulders and talking about his ex-girlfriend, who is now pregnant. They're talking aimlessly about this and that when Belle accidentally mentions "Hannah", her real name. Gasp! Now she's in bed alone, calling his voicemail but not leaving a message and rolling around in her underwear. See, I knew there was going to be some of that! After smoking in slow motion for awhile, she calls Stephanie (the agent has a name!) to instruct her to give Daniel to someone else time. In a notebook, she writes "Danger. Daniel - tall, posh, sweet, twenties. Wants Hannah, not Belle."
Then Sideburns comes back in, and Belle brings out a saddle. The scene shows her (in lacy black bikini) riding him (in saddle and some horse... stuff) around the bed. He seems to be having a good time. So does she, for that matter. She voice-overs that her perfect partner is one where she never has to be herself. And we're done, except for some random clips from week.
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Montykins has never patronized a prostitute, although he did once get propositioned by a very insistent one at the San Diego Comic Convention. Monty also watches a lot of movies, which he writes about on Monty on Movies. You can email him at montykins@gmail.com if that's your idea of a good time.
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