The State, Channel 4 review - dishonest portrait of British jihadis

It’s a burning question of western civilisation: what persuades young people brought up among us to walk out on their lives and join the cult of murderous fanatics who call themselves Islamic State?

The State (Channel 4) seeks to answer that question. It began as four young Britons – two men, two women - packed their rucksacks and wheelie suitcases and embarked for Syria. On the border at night one was told to switch off his light. If this was intended to signify the story’s descent into the dark ages, it seemed premature. The world they entered was full of much bromantic hugging, sparkly smiles and kitchen chats in a gender-segregated holiday camp with a fun splash pool and only slightly iffy latrines.

This is only the first episode of four which will be broadcast nightly, so obviously the shit will hit the fan, things will get much uglier, and at least some of the shiny-eyed recruits will see the error of their choice. Perhaps some aspiring young jihadis will watch it and be deterred by the news that the recruitment propaganda is a pack of lies, you have to delete pictures of your mum and you can't phone home. But at the moment Kosminky’s intense curiosity to understand rather than condemn has slightly got the better of him.

As with any drama, an audience requires a reason to watch a character embark on a story arc. You have to care. The idea of a British IS fighter will be utterly repugnant to the overwhelming majority of those watching, and yet our sympathies are being artificially tilted in favour of these characters. Can Jalal (Sam Otto), who's commendably squeamish about beheading, match the reputation of his martyred brother and learn to assemble a rifle at high speed? Can Shakira (Ony Uhiara), a doctor and single mother who has brought her well-spoken nine-year-old along for the ride, strike a feminist blow by insisting she be allowed to deploy her medical skills? (Pictured below: Ony Uhiara, left with Shavani Cameron as Ushna)The casting and playing is part of that humanising project. The four main characters all seem grounded and personable and nothing like naïve enough to ingest the medieval ideology spouted by their reasonable instructors in disingenuous free and frank Socratic dialogues. They are played by attractive actors. One scene in which a group of female recruits was lectured looked like a supermodel cover shoot. And this ISIS is on an implausible diversity drive. The comment threads in right-wing outlets are often full of groans about politically correct casting. Kosminsky has reverse-engineered something similar. "Men and women from all over the world are travelling to Syria to join the Islamic State," an opening blurb announced. Doubtless the odd white person has made their way to Raqqa, but these recruits comprise a rainbow nation of Aryans and Scandis and someone who looks and sounds like a Clydeside docker. The women are welcomed by Jessica Gunning, familiar from Pride and Prime Suspect 1973. What on earth is someone like her doing at the heart of a drama about an Islamic death cult? That American accent is no disguise.

The main problem is context. There’s little in the script so far to explain why anyone has joined up. Nor are there anything but cursory nods to the life left behind. We have no idea why these intellligent people are prepared, in the most chilling scene, to incinerate their British identity in a ritual auto-da-fé of passports. The State means well and looks good, but no one is nuts enough. The necessary protocols of drama have doomed it to dishonesty.

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