“There is a medieval mystery to solve, so let’s start digging.” So began the new BBC archaeological drama Bonekickers. Part Indiana Jones, part Da Vinci Code with a hint of Time Team, the programme is set in the style of most modern forensic crime series complete with sinister music and dark lighting.
If you missed it, the first episode this week portrayed a group of maverick archaeologists from the University of Wessex where “the excavation of 14th century medieval soldiers alongside Saracen coinage in Somerset leads to the hunt for the True Cross”. The show featured a fundamentalist Christian property developer with sword-wielding accomplices, scenes of faith healing, a beheading, and a dramatic conclusion that saw the team abseiling into a subterranean temple - and a fiery inferno that resulted in the destruction of perhaps one of the most significant finds discovered in the UK!!
So how does this compare to real life in an archaeological unit?
Real life archaeology is perhaps not fast paced enough to be compatible with the fictional world of television. We wait for developers and funding bodies to agree budgets, spend time agreeing sampling strategies, and await the results of radiocarbon dates sent to far-off laboratories rather than churning them straight out of a PC. We use our “archaeological imaginations” for the long drawn-out analyses of a site over time rather than for jumping to instant conclusions, a reality that may deter even the most detail-hungry script writer.
It was claimed at one point that “there is always something down there.” Having spent numerous occasions stood next to a machine digging holes only to find nothing, I can assure you that this is not always true. The next time I encounter a cavernous void, I shall remember to refrain from breaking out the mountaineering gear and lowering myself by rope into the abyss. It’s not unheard of to have random people walk across site, oblivious to signs warning of deep trenches, only to ask if treasure has been found. But the closest I have come to a fiery ending was when a machine driver, perhaps a little heavy-handed, decided to dig a little too close to a gas service.
As our heroes pieced together the evidence, ripping artefacts from the trench without a context sheet in sight and in immaculate attire without a hard hat or hi-vis jacket to be seen, I wondered if any of them were aware of the budget code or had filled out this week’s time sheet. The large expensive flat owned by one of the team, and the swanky laboratory, seemed a little far fetched but I look forward to brandishing my museum ID card in an authoritative FBI-style fashion to see what privileges it brings me.
The final scenes produced the declaration “please, please, for the love of Jehovah, may we go to the pub?” and with that came perhaps the most accurate portrayal of the archaeologist.