I wish television could change the world. I'd have written more and changed it faster if I could.
In a Manchester studio dressed as a lived-in home, Russell T Davies is doing what he has long done best: holding a mirror to a society he fears is retreating from its better instincts. His new thriller, Tip Toe, premiering on Channel 4 on May 31st, traces how a neighbourly feud between a gay man and a straight man is inflamed and ultimately destroyed by the accelerant of online disinformation. Davies, who helped shift British culture with Queer as Folk in 1999, returns not in triumph but in concern — a writer who expected equality to have taken root by now, and finds instead that the ground has grown hostile again.
- Davies sounds an alarm: the cultural progress he witnessed in the early 2000s has not held, and he senses a sharpening hostility toward LGBTQ+ people that he did not anticipate surviving into this decade.
- The drama at the heart of Tip Toe is deceptively domestic — two neighbours, one gay, one straight — but the rabbit hole of online disinformation transforms a petty feud into something with irreversible, devastating consequences.
- A structural hook keeps the tension taut from the first frame: Leo Struthers, played by Alan Cumming, is already dead when the story begins, and the audience must carry that knowledge forward while growing attached to the living characters around him.
- On set, the real-world friendship between Cumming and David Morrissey — friends and former neighbours for over forty years — gives their scenes of confrontation an emotional permission that strangers could not easily manufacture.
- Davies is clear-eyed about television's limits: he does not believe drama changes the world, but he remains committed to bearing witness, naming what he sees, and continuing to write for as long as the world keeps giving him cause.
The kitchen looks entirely real — dishes in the sink, food in the fridge — until you notice the blue sky painted beyond the window on a rainy Manchester afternoon. The BBC has been given rare access to the set of Tip Toe, Russell T Davies' new thriller, and the artifice of the surroundings only sharpens the sincerity of what the writer has to say.
The story follows two neighbours — one gay, one straight — whose feud deepens as one of them falls into the world of online disinformation, with consequences Davies describes as disastrous for both. It is a drama planted firmly in the present tense, in the particular toxicity of the internet age, and it arrives on Channel 4 across May 31st and June 1st.
Alan Cumming plays Leo Struthers, a 59-year-old bar owner in Manchester's Gay Village — a role Davies spent more than two decades trying to get him to accept. The casting came with a structural twist that sealed the deal: Leo is dead from the very first episode. Audiences grow attached to the living characters while carrying the weight of that knowledge, never quite knowing how or when it happened. David Morrissey, playing Leo's neighbour and antagonist Clive Goss, has known Cumming for over forty years. Their friendship gives the confrontation scenes an emotional depth and a safety net — the moment the director calls cut, they are checking in on each other.
What troubles Davies most is the distance between where he thought the world was heading and where it has actually arrived. When Queer as Folk premiered in 1999, progress felt inevitable. A decade ago, it felt close. Now, he says, things are souring. He feels more hostility in the air, more aggression directed at LGBTQ+ communities, and he worries about the future for the young people in his life. He does not believe television can fix this — he is too honest for that — but he feels compelled to keep looking, keep naming what he sees, and keep writing about the damage people do to one another when they stop paying attention.
On a rain-soaked Manchester afternoon, the illusion shatters the moment you look outside. The kitchen where Alan Cumming sits—dishes in the sink, food in the fridge, all the domestic texture of a lived-in home—opens onto blue skies and sunshine. It's a set. The BBC has been granted rare access to the production of Russell T Davies' new thriller, Tip Toe, and what unfolds over the course of the visit is a portrait of a writer still wrestling with the world he sees around him.
The story itself is deceptively simple: two neighbours, one gay and one straight, locked in a feud that metastasizes as one of them tumbles into the rabbit hole of online disinformation. The consequences, Davies promises, are disastrous for both. It's the kind of contemporary wound that Davies has made his career examining—though never without humor, never without humanity. His previous work, It's a Sin and Years and Years, looked backward and forward respectively. Tip Toe plants itself firmly in the present moment, in the here-and-now toxicity of the internet age.
When asked whether he hopes the show might change minds, shift culture, move the needle in the real world, Davies is blunt. "I wish television could change the world," he says. "I'd have written more and changed it faster if I could." There's no false modesty in this, no pretense that art is salvation. But he feels compelled to bear witness, to comment on what he sees. And what he sees troubles him. "I see the world getting worse and worse these days to be honest," he tells the BBC. "I am very worried about the future for my nieces and nephews."
Cumming plays Leo Struthers, a 59-year-old bar owner in Manchester's Gay Village—a role Davies has been chasing the actor to take for more than two decades. The casting itself is a small victory. But there's a structural twist that hooked Cumming immediately: Leo is dead from the opening episode. As the series unfolds and the audience grows attached to the living characters, they carry the knowledge of his death like a stone in their pocket, never quite knowing how or when it happened. "It's really clever, it's suspenseful," Cumming says. "It's also so relevant and so needed."
David Morrissey, playing Clive Goss—Leo's neighbour and antagonist—has known Cumming for over forty years. They've been friends, even real-life neighbours at one point. Now they're tasked with playing out scenes of confrontation and emotional devastation. "We have to do some pretty tough stuff," Morrissey explains during a break, "but the great thing about being with an actor who is a friend is that you can really push it." The minute the director calls cut, they're embracing, checking in on each other. The younger cast members—Joseph Evans and Jackson Connor, who play brothers Saul and George Goss—bring a different energy, finishing each other's sentences like actual siblings, the plywood set around them invisible.
What strikes Davies most acutely is how far the world has drifted from where he thought it was heading. When Queer as Folk premiered in 1999, it felt like a cultural hinge. Twenty-six years later, Davies expected progress to have calcified into something permanent. "I would've said, 'In 25 years' time, we'll have achieved equality, everything will be fine, and we'll all be hand-in-hand, skipping down the street,'" he recalls with a wry smile. "We kind of got close to that about 10 years ago, but actually I think things are souring. I feel more hostility in the air, more aggression towards us." The optimism has curdled. The work, it seems, is never finished.
Tip Toe arrives on Channel 4 on May 31st and June 1st, the first two episodes dropping back-to-back. Davies, for his part, has no plans to stop. "While the world keeps changing, there will always be something new to write about," he says. "That's the plan, I'll just keep going." It's not a promise that things will improve. It's a commitment to keep looking, keep naming what he sees, keep telling stories about the damage we do to each other when we're not paying attention.
Citas Notables
I see the world getting worse and worse these days to be honest. I am very worried about the future for my nieces and nephews.— Russell T Davies
I think things are souring. I feel more hostility in the air, more aggression towards us.— Russell T Davies, reflecting on changes in attitudes toward LGBTQ+ communities since 1999
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why does a story about online disinformation need to be told right now, specifically?
Because it's happening in real time, and most of us are living inside it without fully understanding the architecture. Davies isn't making a cautionary tale about some distant future—he's holding up a mirror to what's already broken.
The twist that Alan Cumming's character is dead from episode one—that's unusual. Why structure it that way?
It changes how you watch everything else. You're not rooting for Leo to survive or win. You're watching the living characters make choices, and you know those choices have already led somewhere terrible. It's like watching a car crash in slow motion.
Davies seems pessimistic about television's power to change things. Does he think the show is pointless, then?
No. He's separated the two ideas. He doesn't think TV will save the world, but he feels obligated to tell the truth about it anyway. There's dignity in that—in bearing witness even when you're not sure it matters.
What's the significance of setting this in Manchester's Gay Village, with a gay character at the center?
It's personal for Davies. He's watched the world move toward acceptance, then watched it turn hostile again. This isn't abstract for him. It's about people he knows, communities he's been part of.
Morrissey and Cumming have been friends for forty years. Does that change what they're able to do on screen?
It lets them go deeper into the ugliness without losing each other. They can play real antagonism because they know they're safe with each other. That's rare.
What does Davies mean when he says things are "souring"?
He's noticing a shift in the ambient temperature. Less tolerance, more aggression, more willingness to dehumanize. It's not a return to the past exactly—it's something newer and meaner.