The series was based on the 1982 same-titled novel written by Labour Party supporter, and later member of Parliament, Chris Mullin. It was adapted by the respected scriptwriter Alan Plater, who had a list of credits to his name, including episodes of the police series Z Cars, and adaptations of major literary works such as The Barchester Chronicles (1983). based on books by Anthony Trollope.

The drama surrounded the election of a far-left Labour government in the "near future" led by third­ generation steelworker and socialist Harry Perkins. Played by Ray McAnally. Perkins sported a Stalin-like moustache, displaying Machiavellian cunning. but retained an avuncular manner and a passion for equality and decency. With a radical agenda to re-nationalize major industries, increase spending on welfare provision, introduce "open government," curb press monopoly, oust the American military from U.K. soil, and unilaterally disarm Britain's nuclear capability, Perkins and his government made many enemies in the political sphere. economic, media, and military establishment. The first episode followed Perkins from election through to an economic crisis, with the International Monetary Fund only offering to bail out the British economy with a loan conditional on a policy U-turn.

The episode ended on a triumphant note instead, when the foreign secretary secured a more preferable  loan from the Moscow State Bank after a secret visit to Sweden. The second episode saw the honeymoon over, and secret service and press colluding to make the foreign secretary resign. The country started to sink to its knees after a debilitating power-workers strike, and for many British viewers, this was a strong reminder of the power strikes during the "winter of discontent" 1978-79. The strike was only broken, however, when the union leader in charge was exposed as a CIA agent provocateur.

In the final episode, Perkins horrified the U.S. government and British military after showing the decommissioning of a nuclear missile live on television. In an attempt to stop Perkins from going any further, the "behind-the-scenes powers-that-be" conspired to force him to resign in favor of a more moderate candidate. Yet in the climactic resignation address to the nation, Perkins melodramatically turned the tables, exposing those who had sought to topple him, and called for a general election to canvass the will of the people. As Perkins made his speech live on television, the drama cut to a reaction shot of the head of the secret service, surrounded by senior military officers, repeating Henry ll's infamous plea to the knights who murdered Thomas Becket at Canterbury Cathedral: "Who will free me from this turbulent priest?"

In the final scene, the ending was, in one sense, am­biguous, but the implication was clear. Perkins stood in front of his mirror in his Sheffield Council flat, shaving in anticipation of polling day (returning almost full circle to where the drama began). As the screen faded to black, the sound of helicopters grew louder.

Out of context, the drama of A Very British Coup seems overly paranoid and melodramatic, yet at the time of transmission it reflected a real world of disquiet and anxiety. In Britain, the 1980s was a period of rapid social change. On the one hand it could be characterized by the yuppie boom, the growth in communications technologies and white collar employment, and the birth of the "me" generation. On the other hand it also saw rising unemployment and the suppression of the union movement, the (temporary) collapse of the Labour Party, the concentration of media power in the hands of a partisan minority, and the fear of increased government surveillance. The return to an aggressive anti-communist cold­ war rhetoric concerned many, as did the stationing of U.S. nuclear weaponry on British soil. Many genuinely feared the possibility of a nuclear holocaust.

On transmission, Plater's adaptation also seemed to have a louder ring of truth as it closely followed allegations that senior British secret service officers at MIS had plotted to overthrow the Labour Prime Minister Harold Wilson in the early 1970s. These potentially spurious allegations were given an additional fil­ lip when the British government banned publication of these claims in the United Kingdom.

Tapping into this unease, the aesthetic style of A Very British Coup often overlaps dialogue with images of people talking on telephones, computer screens scrolling through banks of data, and shots of undercover officers sitting in cars or on motorbikes observing the action. This suggests an overwhelming sense of surveillance. In a subtle post-Watergate twist, the drama also suggests that the calls of the prime minister are not bugged by MIS, but by U.S. intelligence, and then passed to the British secret service.

Notably, in A Very British Coup, the political realm is marked out as a profane place. Several scenes with Perkins take place in toilets, or while he is shaving (the first episode begins with a shot of urine splashing into a toilet bowl). This has the double effect of humanizing Perkins and his cause, whilst also showing that all power has a visceral and vulnerable side.

Ray McAnally was surrounded by an excellent cast: Keith Allen as a rough diamond investigative journalist turned spin doctor; Alan MacNaughtan as the in­ transigent secret service chief; and Tim Mclnnerny, playing against type, as a humorless secret service henchman. It was directed by Mick Jackson, whose career began in documentary before making the shocking drama-documentary Threads (1984), about a nuclear attack on Britain. He later moved to Holly­ wood to work on LA Story (1991) and The Bodyguard ( 1992). The program won numerous awards, including an Emmy for best television drama.