Katie Price: Harvey And Me
BBC1, Monday
Back
Channel 4, Thursday
Rating: 
I wonder what you think of when you think of Katie Price, aka ‘Jordan’. A lot of things, probably. The boob jobs. The hair extensions. The self-marketing. The branded bed linen that I once saw on sale at Matalan.
The marriages that have gone belly up. The bankruptcy. The Uggs. The ‘mucky mansion.’ The multiple TV reality shows starting with the one she made with her first husband, Peter Andre – ‘shu’ up, Pete, shu’ up’ – that have since switched to more and more obscure channels.
What you don’t think of when you think of Katie Price, aka ‘Jordan’, is: my God, she’s such a brilliant mother. But you might now.
The documentary, Katie Price: Harvey And Me, offered a glimpse into life with her son, Harvey, who was born with Prader-Willi syndrome, is partially sighted, and has a unique combination of other problems, including autism and the hormonal issues that make his weight impossible to control.
The documentary, Katie Price: Harvey And Me, offered a glimpse into life with her son, Harvey (both above), who was born with Prader-Willi syndrome and is partially sighted
(He is currently approaching 29st). The film opened with his 18th birthday, which the pair celebrated by visiting the platform of their local train station as Harvey is obsessed by trains (‘best train ever… love it… so cool!’, he exclaimed joyfully as one approached) and enjoys filming them on his iPad.
(You did wonder how many iPads they get through). ‘I love you forever, Mummy,’ he then said. ‘Love you forever, Harv,’ she replied, ‘and you’re with Mummy for ever and ever.’ But that wasn’t strictly true.
Now Harvey has reached his majority he must transfer into the adult system, and he’s a man with complex needs. He has the cognitive age of a seven-year-old and is generally sweet and loving and friendly and polite and very funny, whether knowingly or not.
‘Nice to meet you, Harvey’, someone says at one point. ‘I know!’ he replies. ‘Tell me!’ But he does not react well to unexpected change or certain triggers, like doors slamming.
There are punch holes in the plasterwork all over the Price home. ‘As you can see,’ she notes wryly, ‘my house is already destroyed.’ She understands exactly what makes him kick off.
(‘Do you want your ear defenders, Harv?’). But now he needs to be more independent. As she says, she’s not always going to be around to care for him. ‘What happens if I die?,’ she asked, adding: ‘I wish he’d go before me’, and you did absolutely get that.
What if he ended up somewhere that did not understand? What if he were considered a danger to himself or others and, heaven forbid, sectioned?
They visited residential colleges. ‘I hope he doesn’t smash anything,’ Katie said on the way into one. It is a fraught business. What will the local authority pay for? Will he have to go far away?
She offered constant, motherly reassurance. ‘We’re just looking today, Harv. You are coming home afterwards.’ She spoke to the mothers of other, similarly challenging children, one of whom was sectioned, which was horrifying.
More cheeringly, Harvey did get to meet his friend Zack, who is also train-obsessed, at Waterloo Station. They seemed to know all the train announcements by heart, and you know what I’ve just heard?
Network Rail are offering Harvey the chance of being an announcer for real. Isn’t that wonderful?
I’m made up for him. And her. She has always fought Harvey’s corner, and this was a true, honest, affecting account of what that has been like, and showed her as resilient, patient, devoted, dignified, loving.
So you do have to add ‘brilliant’ mother’ to that list. As for Harvey’s father, the former footballer Dwight Yorke, who has chosen never to be involved, what you still don’t think of him is: ‘brilliant dad’. For some reason you just don’t.
Ever since the comedy Back debuted in 2017 I have been desperately trying to love it. It stars David Mitchell and Robert Webb, and I adore David Mitchell and Robert Webb.
It is written by Simon Blackwell, who has worked on Peep Show, The Thick Of It, Veep and Four Lions. Back’s now back for a second series and I desperately tried to love it all over again, but no luck. I like it well enough but can’t love it. Is it just me?
The basic premise is: Stephen (Mitchell) was all set to inherit the family pub when his father died, but then Andrew (Webb), the foster child briefly raised by his parents, turns up and charms everyone aside from Stephen, who views him as a sociopath set on stealing his life.
At the end of the last series Andrew had driven Stephen to madness, but now he’s been discharged from the mental health facility where he wore only slippers for so long his feet, he says, have got soft and flat and wide ‘like veal escalopes’.
I laughed. There are some excellent lines. But some jokes are quite laboured (the pair serving behind the bar get lumbered with many of those) there are stock characters (sexually liberated mum; potty-mouthed old fella) and plot twists you can see coming a mile off.
Like I said, I like it but can’t love it. I need to know: is it just me? Or not?