George Best- his Mothers Son (BBC2 last night) managed the considerable feat of failing to capture a single hint of the man who said ”I spent 90% of my money on women and drink. The rest I wasted.” Sure enough, this George was a pretty boy but one that would have blown over in a puff of wind. The film spurned the easy option of the legend of Icarus from East Belfast who flew too close to the sun. It opted instead for a grim tale of parallel alcoholics, mother and son, the real focus being on the Mammy. Alcoholism, nature or nurture, who knows, none of us can be sure and the film leaves the question hanging. The particular tragedy of alcoholics is that anger, boredom and rejection are so often their fate. Yet this was no Eastenders: in 1960s Protestant Cregagh, the deepest pain was suppressed. Father Dickie who died a year ago was depicted as so stoical you wanted to punch him. Not like the real man at all, we’re told. Were the separate downfalls of mother and son the fault of media pressure in the days before Max Clifford? This was strongly suggested but not developed. The modest, decent Best family circle was a collective character in the film but family values by themselves dont make a drama. so we were left flat. Youve got to get used to boredom, the Mammy warns George, already restless with his mammy-like Manchester landlady. And so, I fear, it was boredom for the viewers too. The reviews were mixed. Lindy McDowell who has the inside track on the family slated the film as intrusive. But isnt there a contradiction in Lindys argument, as we read sister Barbaras account of Georges last breath, written with Lindys help? The media were right there, up to the end.