The celebrated documentarian’s five-part series charts the decline of Britain’s democracy with a witty, kaleidoscopic selection of archive footage. It begins, of course, with Margaret Thatcher

Hello and welcome to the latest addition to Adam Curtis’s growing compendium of documentaries I have unofficially entitled How Did Things Get So Shit? Let Me Explain in a Weirdly Uplifting Manner. Previous volumes include The Century of the Self, The Power of Nightmares, The Trap: What Happened to Our Dream of Freedom, All Watched Over By Machines of Loving Grace, HyperNormalisation, Can’t Get You Out of My Head and Russia 1985-1999: TraumaZone.

Even if you have not had the challenging pleasure of watching, the titles alone should be enough to evoke most of the concerns found therein – the rise of individualism, the fragmentation of old systems, the political vacuums new people and powers have rushed to fill, the death rattle of formerly dependable entities on which western civilisation has traditionally rested and once allowed us to sleep peacefully at night, the creeping destabilisation of all things, and so very much on.

Pompidou Centre, Paris
As the gallery prepares to close its doors for five years, Tillmans is let loose across all 6,000 sq metres of its public library. The results are stunning – and chilling

In September the Pompidou Centre in Paris closes for five years for renovation. The building is nearly 50 years old and needs to be cleared of asbestos, and to reconnect with Renzo Piano and Richard Rogers’ original design after years of architectural accumulations. Many of the departments are already moving into temporary new homes, including the huge Bibliothèque publique d’information, the public library usually based on the second floor. Nearly all of its contents have been emptied out, but before it’s stripped back altogether, Wolfgang Tillmans has been invited to deconstruct it another way. His show, Rien ne nous y préparait – Tout nous y préparait (Nothing could have prepared us – Everything could have prepared us) covers all 6,000 sq metres of the space.

It’s an inspired setting because Tillmans’ work circles around questions of information. He makes documentary photographs but questions the parameters of photographic vision. In his ongoing Truth Study Center he collates newspaper cuttings, photographs, photocopies, drawings and objects on trestle tables, encouraging viewers to consider these elements and their claims to veracity; his installations are always site-specific, and take a nuanced approach to display. Situated in the Bpi, Rien ne nous y préparait – Tout nous y préparait is a meditation on knowledge, how it is organised, and where its limitations lie. “I do trust my eyes, I want to trust observation, study, but for that it is very important that I sharpen my eyes to how I see, how we record, what we capture,” says Tillmans.

An exploration of the financial affairs of Harry Windsor and Meghan Markle. Plus, a shameful and seldom-told story from the aftermath of the second world war. Here’s what to watch tonight

8.30pm, Channel 5
The Sussex Squad may have largely disappeared from British public life, but they still seem to arouse tabloid fury. Hence, this unnecessary documentary on the exiled couple’s financial affairs. The sources of their wealth don’t seem too mysterious: inheritance, a massive Netflix deal and a payout from the publishers representing the Sun newspaper won’t have hurt. But clearly it’s time for another stir of the pot. Phil Harrison

Veteran composer’s work is everywhere, but generation who grew up admiring him say he has never been out of touch

When Andrew Lloyd Webber walked on stage to collect the Tony award for best musical revival for Sunset Boulevard, it was the first time in 30 years he had been recognised by the American Theatre Wing.

The Jamie Lloyd-directed revival was the star of the show at American theatre’s big night last Sunday with its three wins signifying a return to prominence for the veteran composer.

Posy Sterling stars in an impassioned film about a mother trying to get her children back, while two former prisoners of Assad recall their time in hell. Here’s the pick of the week’s culture, taken from the Guardian’s best-rated reviews

Drugs, gun-runners, fridge-freezer maintenance … Netflix’s look at the wild life of the one-time Toronto mayor Rob Ford – and the lessons it tries to learn about our current politics – is gripping viewing

Canadians make bad decisions too. For proof, see this schadenfreude-fuelled documentary about Rob Ford , the bellicose former conservative mayor of Toronto. Ford’s rolling scandals in office include public drunkenness, smoking crack with gun-runners, and lying about everything. Talking heads in the documentary, sensitively titled Trainwreck: Mayor of Mayhem (Netflix, from Tuesday 17 June), remember him as “an everyman … without a shred of credibility … who turned city hall into a circus”. That seems unfair. Circuses aren’t that bad, and I refuse to believe every man smokes crack cocaine.

Most documentaries wring every ounce of lurid detail from their subjects. This guy has more chaos than fits inside 49 minutes. We do get thrillingly grainy footage of him twirling his crack pipe, slurring first-degree murder threats with Mortal Kombat-levels of specificity, and making bizarre rants in Jamaican patois, against what or whom I’m not sure. First-hand sources are film-maker’s gold, and Ford is happy enough to spend his lowest points around people who video everything. These people never have good phones though, do they?

The kids’ animation gets a sprightly live-action remake, and rock’s angriest elder statesman returns with a new album and backing band

How to Train Your Dragon
Out now
This live-action remake was shot by Bill Pope, the cinematographer behind films as diverse as Clueless, The Matrix and Spider-Man 3, with puppets used on set to give the actors something to work with before painting in the CGI. Starring Mason Thames, Gerard Butler and Nick Frost.

In pop, which equates genius with innovation, recent artists have not pioneered new forms like those from the 60s. Has the digital age sidelined invention and promoted the derivative for ever?

By all accounts, Brian Wilson was a genius. His fellow greats Bob Dylan and Paul McCartney both used the word in their tributes to the creative force behind the Beach Boys, who died this week aged 82. So did John Cale, Mick Fleetwood and Elton John. And so did Wilson’s bandmates, who wrote in a joint statement: “The world mourns a genius today.”

You may imagine Wilson gradually accrued such a vaunted standing. Artistic legacy is largely dependent on the longevity of mass appeal, and the fact that the Beach Boys’ opus Pet Sounds remains one of the most celebrated and beloved records of all time almost 60 years since its release is proof enough of his incredible talent.

Band’s ‘on the edge of kitsch’ aesthetic is still relevant three decades later as young people focus on vintage clothing

Thirty years ago this month Pulp played the Pyramid stage at Glastonbury and took their reputation to another level. If part of this was due to a storming set taking in their new hit Common People, debuts for their future hits Mis-Shapes and Disco 2000, and the star power of singer Jarvis Cocker, it was also down to their look.

There was Steve Mackay, bass guitarist, in a fitted shirt and kipper tie, Russell Senior on violin in a blue safari shirt, keyboardist Candida Doyle in sequins and – of course – Cocker, in his now signature secondhand 70s tailoring.