Anne, review: Maxine Peake is perfect as the horrors of Hillsborough are laid bare

What made the first episode of Anne (ITV) so unbearable to watch is that we knew everything that was about to happen. When anxious mum Anne Williams (Maxine Peake) tells her 15-year-old son that he can’t go to Liverpool’s FA Cup away game at Hillsborough, only to relent the next day in the face of his disappointment, we’re wishing she’d stood firm.

When Anne and her husband travel to Sheffield in search of their boy and an official tells them that he may have been one of the lucky ones who made it to hospital, we know it’s a note of false hope. And when the couple are ushered into a room and asked if they can identify their son on a noticeboard covered in Polaroid pictures of the dead, we are sure of what they will find.

Anne’s son, Kevin, was among the 94 fans killed that day (three more supporters died later from their injuries). She spent the rest of her days campaigning for justice, refusing to accept the initial verdict of accidental death. That fight will occupy the next three episodes as they play on consecutive nights this week. But in this opener, we were transported back to 1989.

Those who knew Williams have said that Peake captures her brilliantly. At first, her look is distracting - seeing an actor transformed through hair and make-up can take a while to get used to - but her portrayal is apparently uncanny; the brother of a man who saw Peake on set said he did a double take. And she is a fine actress. Her depiction of a mother’s grief was so potent that I spent almost the entire episode in tears.

Stephen Walters plays Anne’s husband, Steve, quietly offering love and support. Part of the episode followed their drive to Sheffield in search of news. This could have been reduced to a brief shot, yet we follow the journey in its excruciating detail, whether running out of petrol or struggling with directions. It amplifies the knowledge that this was real life that we were watching.

Writer Kevin Sampson, the author of a book, Hillsborough Voices, was at the game that day. While the drama will damn the police actions, and the subsequent cover-up, Sampson also conveys the awful randomness of tragedy: Anne’s son was at his first ever away game; his friend made it home, but he did not.