Admirable restraint over such a tragedy

Published on Thursday 21 May 2009 19:22

TV review

Emergency In The Womb, Channel 4

My Weapon is a Dog, BBC 3

PRODUCER/DIRECTOR Sara Tibbett's – for once, aptly branded – Cutting Edge film, Emergency in the Womb, was one of the most moving pieces of television I've seen in some time. Any observational documentary dealing with the potential death of an infant is going to be emotionally draining, but when those children are struggling for survival in the womb, the subject is even more fraught with anxiety.

The show followed two pregnant women, Sarah and Natalie, both suffering from a rare condition known as twin to twin transfusion syndrome, or TTTS. Put simply, this means one unborn twin haemorrhages into the other. In the worst-case scenario, both will die: one from lack of blood, the other from too much strain on its heart.

Enter Professor Kypros Nicolaides from King's College Hospital in London, a pioneering surgeon specialising in treatment for TTTS. With his mellifluous voice and reassuring bedside manner, Prof Nicolaides gave the impression of someone who knew exactly what he was doing, and his professional pragmatism ensured no-one was in any doubt about the potential for tragedy.

Throughout the various procedures and setbacks, the stress and uncertainty endured by these women, and their doting partners and families, was palpable. When Sarah finally gave birth by Caesarean, the wait to discover whether the twins had survived was almost unbearable. I say that as someone watching at home; the parents' anxiety is unimaginable. Mercifully, wonderfully, ecstatically, they were alive and in comparatively rude health.

Tragically, however, Natalie lost one of her twins shortly after he was born (Tibbett's camera respectfully shied away before this point). It was at least some small mercy that she and her partner managed to spend time with him before he passed away. Upon arriving home with her surviving child, Natalie conveyed the dreadful emotional conflict one must feel after losing a twin in such circumstances. "You want to be ecstatic about the baby that you have," she sobbed. "But obviously you're very, very sad about the loss."

Her admission – simple, direct, yet weighted with infinite meaning – was typical of this unaffectedly powerful film.

In (ahem) My Weapon is a Dog, Rickie Haywood-Williams – a Kiss 100 DJ, but don't hold that against him – fronted an earnest investigation into the apparently rising tide of aggressive dog ownership in Britain. It appears so-called status dogs are now all the rage among – let's be blunt about this – boneheads. Not all boneheads, you understand – heaven forbid I should make such a crass generalisation – but specifically the sort of bonehead who would train his mutt to attack at the slightest hint of aggro.

To be fair, the owners he met just seemed a bit thick and misguided, rather than outright nasty. But the sheer intimidation their dogs cause suggested that they don't possess much in the way of empathy for others.

The revelation that illegal pit bull terriers are largely unmonitored by the police is certainly worrying, as is the fact that there appears to be a thriving online market for them. And a harrowing visit to an animal hospital full of horrifically tortured dogs was almost enough to obliterate my already fragile faith in humanity. And relax…