TV Review: Toxic Town Directed by Minkie Spiro and written by Jack Thorne and Amy Trigg
Perinatal loss or having an unwell child can put a strain on even the strongest of relationships. There is often a struggle to find a culprit and blame often gets misdirected. Toxic Town, a Netflix drama written by Adolescence-writer Jack Thorne, shows us a group of families who are struggling with just this, but who are able to identify and 'win' against the genuine culprit - a victory and catharsis that is typically unavailable to most parents who have experienced perinatal loss or have children with illnesses or disabilities.
Like a large proportion of the UK population I was impressed and shaken by the excellent and much-discussed Netflix series Adolescence. I had a thirst for more, and so decided to watch Toxic Town, a series also written by Jack Thorne. While it did not pack as obvious an emotional punch for me as Adolescence, there were certain themes which struck a chord for me as a couple therapist, and in particular with my work with couples who have experienced perinatal loss or miscarriage.
Toxic Town is a four-part series which looks at the story behind the Corby toxic waste scandal which linked the atmospheric toxic waste from the reclamation of the Corby Steelworks in Northamptonshire in the 1980s and 1990s to birth defects in local children.
The series tracks the journey of some of the mothers of the children born with birth defects, including the central character Susan McIntyre, played by Jodie Whittaker. Early on in the series, she is on a night out dancing and drinking before she goes home to have sex with her partner Peter, played by Michael Socha. Unlike some of the other mothers who are jubilant when they see a positive pregnancy test, Susan is crestfallen and worried, and it is Peter who is full of positivity saying with a smile that he is confident it will be a boy. There is then a key meeting at the hospital when Susan meets a fellow pregnant woman, Tracey Taylor, played by Aimee Lou Wood, at the hospital. There are concerns for both of their pregnancies and Tracey is full of anxiety, which Susan helps ease by joking about Tracey’s night-time flatulence. Knowing a bit about the subject matter of the series, watching these scenes I felt a sense of ominous dread.
And indeed Susan’s son Connor is born with a hand deformity. While otherwise relatively healthy, this deformity proves catastrophic for the family unit. The moment Susan brings Connor home, Peter escapes to the pub. Peter cannot speak about or look at Connor’s hand. It seemingly feels unbearable for him to be the parent of a son with a deformity and soon after Connor’s arrival he abandons Susan and their sons. While abandonment of this nature is thankfully not something I have frequently witnessed with clients, his reaction felt strangely familiar. Couples who have experienced loss or disappointment can struggle to stay together. Peter refuses to talk but seemingly blames Susan for Connor’s limb difference - with the theme of misdirected blame pervasive in the series. Peter is a superficially unsympathetic character and yet his failure to communicate and desire to escape, following the loss of the ‘perfect’ healthy boy he had imagined, felt very true to life. In my experience with clients, who like Peter, find it hard to confront or speak about their pain they seek ‘escape’, whether that is in physical separation, alcohol, drugs, long work hours or even excessive exercise.
While Susan is getting used to life with Connor, we find out about the stories of other families impacted by health problems, including Tracey’s experience which is the most tragic. Tracey knows something is wrong as soon as her baby, Shelby Ann, is born and fails to cry. The baby makes little noise and poignantly whimpers. They discover Shelby Ann was born with just two heart chambers, instead of four, as well as other developmental defects and she dies within days.Later on, we see how Tracey is unable to celebrate or enjoy her subsequent pregnancy, as she is so wracked with fear and guilt that it might happen again. This felt like such an authentic depiction of the experience of becoming pregnant after loss.
There are moments in the last episode that feel satisfying and celebratory once Corby Council is eventually found liable and the families receive compensation. In particular, there is a sense of justice when we see the villain of the series, Councillor Roy Thomas who is played by Brendan Coyle - who is coincidentally from Corby - get his comeuppance. But sadly there is no compensation for the family of Shelby Ann, as her health issues differed from the limb deformities that were the basis of the other mothers' claims. This feeling of deep injustice is painful to watch. For Tracey it is as if Shelby Ann was forgotten. As well as being an accurate description of what actually happened in the court case, it also elegantly illustrated a common experience for people who have experienced perinatal loss of feeling their loss, their child, has been forgotten.
Finding meaning, causes and culprits feels like a natural response to human difficulties and in the case of the families in Toxic Town the culprits were clear. The Corby families have a clear place to channel their anger and energy. In this respect this is a fairly unique set of circumstances, as for most couples who experience difficulties or loss, there are no clear villains or culprits. These couples are forced to bear resentment, anger and guilt on their own, and may direct it at each other or themselves, making an already difficult situation worse.
I was left wondering about the families after their remarkable success at court. What about the emotional wounds that cannot be healed with financial compensation and what about Tracey and Shelby Ann? As a viewer the victory felt bitter-sweet, and my sense was that the damage caused by this scandal can never be adequately measured or repaired.
Erica Herrero-Martinez is a Couple and Individual Psychotherapist with specialist training and experience dealing with perinatal loss and miscarriage.