Cassie and Ken
If you haven’t been paying attention (and who could blame you): Cassie, working as Ken’s unofficial carer, has been spiking his drinks with antihistamines to keep him drowsy and confused to ensure he remains dependent on her care. The storyline has since developed with Cassie gaslighting Ken into believing he has bought items online that, in fact, she did.
But here’s the thing: none of this was necessary. The writers had already established a perfectly reasonable foundation for a genuine Corrie storyline. Ken Barlow, a beloved character played by 92-year-old William Roache, needed care after a fall. The Barlows, struggling to afford qualified help, agreed to let Cassie step in. Right there, you have all the ingredients for a rich character-driven narrative exploring themes of trust, family dynamics, and the challenges of aging.
Instead the writers opted for shock value over substance, again. Moments of connection between Ken and Cassie are now tainted by the knowledge of her betrayal. Take last night’s scenes with Steve and Cassie experimenting with the air fryer, for instance. These moments were actually decent and showed glimpses of the kind of everyday humour and charm that Coronation Street does best. But instead of letting these scenes stand on their own merit, they’re overshadowed by the dark knowledge that Cassie bought the appliance with Ken’s money and gaslighted him into thinking he’d purchased it himself. Why couldn’t we simply have had scenes where Cassie and Ken legitimately bought an air fryer together, leading to some classic Corrie comedy with Steve? The show seems to have forgotten that ordinary moments, well-written, were its bread and butter.
What’s particularly frustrating is that the show missed an opportunity to tell a story that many viewers could relate to. Caring for elderly relatives is a reality many families face, often with limited resources and difficult choices to make. A storyline about Cassie genuinely trying to help Ken, perhaps struggling with the responsibility while working through her own issues, could have resonated deeply.
The decision to include drugging and gaslighting is so symptomatic of modern Corrie’s erroneous belief that every storyline needs to be ramped up to eleven to maintain viewer interest. This approach, as far as I can tell, is merely achieving the opposite effect, distancing us from what should be relatable human drama.
We’re left with a plot that undermines both characters: Ken, reduced to a victim of elder abuse, and Cassie, whose potential for redemption and growth has been sacrificed for the sake of sensationalism. It’s a shame, because somewhere in this storyline is a missed opportunity to tell a story that could have been both compelling and true to the heart of what makes Coronation Street special: its ability to tell authentic stories about ordinary people facing real-life challenges. Coronation Street used to understand that the little things could make just as memorable television too. Where has that understanding gone?