29 November 2006
TALKING THE MICHAEL
If anyone can sort out ITV, Grade's the man. There's really nobody else. Well, there is, but when Greg Dyke was asked about it the other week he reckoned Pol Pot had more chance of getting the job.
In truth Grade was in the wrong office at the BBC. He should have been Director-General. That would have given him the licence to deploy those legendary black arts of scheduling, besides handing him the excuse to do shameless photo opportunities with cast members from all the Beeb's top shows, plus be far more of a charismatic, avuncular and likable public figure than Mark Thompson.
All of these things he'll now be able to do at ITV, but only because the network got into such a mess in the first place that it had to merge the roles of chief executive and chairman in order to make the job of running the place in any way appealing.
As BBC chairman all we only really saw of Grade were his dry turns at government committee hearings and corporate conferences. Maybe he made a difference internally, aiding morale and boosting the BBC's self-confidence. Externally, you sense his departure won't make any difference at all.
Christopher Bland, another former BBC chairman, made an insightful point on the Today programme yesterday morning. Grade, he argued, had more or less done himself out of a proper job anyway by sanctioning the replacement of the governors with the BBC Trust. Grade was to have been chair of this new body, but equipped, by definition, with far less authority to meddle as he had when chair of the governors. Sensing he was about to see out the rest of his days in the most emasculated job he'd had for decades, Bland reasoned, Grade was already looking for a reason to jump when ITV came calling.
It's fair to say whenever Grade's done a job where he hasn't had the power to put some stick about - when he was creative director of the Dome, or chair of Camelot, or looking after his dad's old service stations - he's come unstuck.
Now he's got the whole of ITV to play with. He got a standing ovation when he showed up at the network's offices, just like he did when he made his first appearance in the BBC as chairman. In both cases it was deserved. If he makes ITV the powerhouse it once was, however, he'll have pulled off the biggest success of his career.
In truth Grade was in the wrong office at the BBC. He should have been Director-General. That would have given him the licence to deploy those legendary black arts of scheduling, besides handing him the excuse to do shameless photo opportunities with cast members from all the Beeb's top shows, plus be far more of a charismatic, avuncular and likable public figure than Mark Thompson.
All of these things he'll now be able to do at ITV, but only because the network got into such a mess in the first place that it had to merge the roles of chief executive and chairman in order to make the job of running the place in any way appealing.
As BBC chairman all we only really saw of Grade were his dry turns at government committee hearings and corporate conferences. Maybe he made a difference internally, aiding morale and boosting the BBC's self-confidence. Externally, you sense his departure won't make any difference at all.
Christopher Bland, another former BBC chairman, made an insightful point on the Today programme yesterday morning. Grade, he argued, had more or less done himself out of a proper job anyway by sanctioning the replacement of the governors with the BBC Trust. Grade was to have been chair of this new body, but equipped, by definition, with far less authority to meddle as he had when chair of the governors. Sensing he was about to see out the rest of his days in the most emasculated job he'd had for decades, Bland reasoned, Grade was already looking for a reason to jump when ITV came calling.
It's fair to say whenever Grade's done a job where he hasn't had the power to put some stick about - when he was creative director of the Dome, or chair of Camelot, or looking after his dad's old service stations - he's come unstuck.
Now he's got the whole of ITV to play with. He got a standing ovation when he showed up at the network's offices, just like he did when he made his first appearance in the BBC as chairman. In both cases it was deserved. If he makes ITV the powerhouse it once was, however, he'll have pulled off the biggest success of his career.
27 November 2006
WHO'S A HERO TWO
Well in an update to my earlier post, it now appears that BBC2 are going to be screening Heroes next year. This of course is great news (although I wonder where they'll schedule it), and having now watched the first nine episodes, I am still proclaiming this to be the best thing on telly in ages (albeit ep six is a bit dull).
24 November 2006
NORKS AT 10
Ironic, Media Monkey-style sight of the day: Neil "Ray Von" Fitzmaurice - the star of ITV1's upcoming anti-cellphone polemic Mobile - texting away while waiting for journos to join his table at the post ITV1 Winter Season launch Q&A.
Yep, it's winter, and time for a less ebullent Simon Shaps to take to the stage - with no applause - and lay out the ITV1 stall at the season press launch. With an agreeable degree of humility, he touched upon the fact the channel's dramas have been much of a muchiness in recent years, and claimed that now things were going to change. And based on the trail that followed, he could be right, with a Jane Austen season, a political satire (Confessions of a Diary Secretary) and a sex comedy (Bonkers) in the works.
Actually, following on from that last title, if there's a theme to be wrung from the upcoming slew of fiction on "the nation's favourite button" - as promoted today - it's norks. Bare norks. And lots of them. But, I dunno - ITV1 is the mums and dads' channel, isn't it? Is nudity really the right strategy?
Elsewhere, we're in less innovative territory, with ITV1 pulling the old trick of repeating other people's successes ... in a slightly crap ITV own-brand form (cf: Dancing on Ice). Hence, Richard Madeley returns to the third channel to helm a show where people are invited to pitch to millionaires in the hope of receiving a cash injection. Shamelessly, one of monied mob is Duncan Bannatyne (he's starting to exude a real sense of desperation for a made man, isn't he?). Better yet is the involvement of Jeffrey Archer, who - in the clip we saw - delivered a direct-to-camera piece ,,, with a copy of his latest work coincidentally propped up in the background.
So what else has been successful on the Beeb? How about celebs tracing their own family history? Yep, Deidre off of Corrie will lead the guard in the first episode of You Don't Know You're Born.
And then there's a kooky Scot and an ex-chart topper, battling monsters and time rifts in central London. Yep, Primeval is nearly here, with Douglas Henshall and Hannah Spearritt from S Club 7. It's unkind to say it - but I will anyway - the CGI really didn't look all that good in the excerpt we saw. But, God bless a show that's confident enough to give TV critics an easy line by unleashing a hoard of dodos in episode one ...
Yep, it's winter, and time for a less ebullent Simon Shaps to take to the stage - with no applause - and lay out the ITV1 stall at the season press launch. With an agreeable degree of humility, he touched upon the fact the channel's dramas have been much of a muchiness in recent years, and claimed that now things were going to change. And based on the trail that followed, he could be right, with a Jane Austen season, a political satire (Confessions of a Diary Secretary) and a sex comedy (Bonkers) in the works.
Actually, following on from that last title, if there's a theme to be wrung from the upcoming slew of fiction on "the nation's favourite button" - as promoted today - it's norks. Bare norks. And lots of them. But, I dunno - ITV1 is the mums and dads' channel, isn't it? Is nudity really the right strategy?
Elsewhere, we're in less innovative territory, with ITV1 pulling the old trick of repeating other people's successes ... in a slightly crap ITV own-brand form (cf: Dancing on Ice). Hence, Richard Madeley returns to the third channel to helm a show where people are invited to pitch to millionaires in the hope of receiving a cash injection. Shamelessly, one of monied mob is Duncan Bannatyne (he's starting to exude a real sense of desperation for a made man, isn't he?). Better yet is the involvement of Jeffrey Archer, who - in the clip we saw - delivered a direct-to-camera piece ,,, with a copy of his latest work coincidentally propped up in the background.
So what else has been successful on the Beeb? How about celebs tracing their own family history? Yep, Deidre off of Corrie will lead the guard in the first episode of You Don't Know You're Born.
And then there's a kooky Scot and an ex-chart topper, battling monsters and time rifts in central London. Yep, Primeval is nearly here, with Douglas Henshall and Hannah Spearritt from S Club 7. It's unkind to say it - but I will anyway - the CGI really didn't look all that good in the excerpt we saw. But, God bless a show that's confident enough to give TV critics an easy line by unleashing a hoard of dodos in episode one ...
21 November 2006
DOCTOR WHO'S FAMILY AFFAIRS
Earlier this year, the Beeb decided to outsource all the publicity for the Doctor Who to PR company Taylor Herring. Lesley Land is currently promoting the Christmas special, and in a nice piece of serendipity it turns out she has a famous uncle ...
... Michael Grade.
... Michael Grade.
WHO'S A HERO NOW?
Not sure if this is confirmed or not yet, but it would appear that Christopher Eccleston is to join the cast of NBC's new Lost beater - Heroes. If this news is true, then you have to conclude that it's going to be a real waste if Heroes ends up on the Sci-Fi channel (which is supposedly bringing it to UK screens next year). After all, with repeats of The Tomorrow People and Quatermass excepted, the Sci-Fi channel has remained one of the last ports of call on most people's remote controls.
However, Heroes is worth tuning in for. Having watched the first six episodes, this is a series that combines the breath-taking turning-your-world-upside-down cliffhangers of the kind found in the aforementioned Lost, without that series' horrendous tendency for slowing the plot down to a crawl for weeks on end. In fact five out of the first six eps of Heroes end on really belting twists or reveals and right now I can't think of a brand new drama series I've enjoyed this much in ages.
Of course Heroes' central premise is pretty familiar to those with a working knowledge of American comic books. But it has to be said the show handles the whole concept of "what would it be like if superheroes actually existed in the real world" with a refreshing originality that sidesteps most of the preoccupations of the so-called "mature readers" graphic novel market.
Admittedly it probably helps that I grew up on a diet of Spider-Man and, later Watchman comics, but before Heroes I had presumed that any such interest I once nursed had died out at the end of my teenage years.
I'm not sure, then, if that's an endorsement for Heroes or rather an acknowledgement that man's struggle to realise that with great power comes great responsibility is an enduring fascination for those of us who once made theirs Marvel. Anyway, be sure to find out for yourselves, but be warned there's every chance Heroes will sneak onto UK screens rather than herald its arrival through billboard posters.
However, Heroes is worth tuning in for. Having watched the first six episodes, this is a series that combines the breath-taking turning-your-world-upside-down cliffhangers of the kind found in the aforementioned Lost, without that series' horrendous tendency for slowing the plot down to a crawl for weeks on end. In fact five out of the first six eps of Heroes end on really belting twists or reveals and right now I can't think of a brand new drama series I've enjoyed this much in ages.
Of course Heroes' central premise is pretty familiar to those with a working knowledge of American comic books. But it has to be said the show handles the whole concept of "what would it be like if superheroes actually existed in the real world" with a refreshing originality that sidesteps most of the preoccupations of the so-called "mature readers" graphic novel market.
Admittedly it probably helps that I grew up on a diet of Spider-Man and, later Watchman comics, but before Heroes I had presumed that any such interest I once nursed had died out at the end of my teenage years.
I'm not sure, then, if that's an endorsement for Heroes or rather an acknowledgement that man's struggle to realise that with great power comes great responsibility is an enduring fascination for those of us who once made theirs Marvel. Anyway, be sure to find out for yourselves, but be warned there's every chance Heroes will sneak onto UK screens rather than herald its arrival through billboard posters.
14 November 2006
"WE'VE GOT CAROL VORDERMAN IN HERE TONIGHT!"
He's no stranger to inheriting other people's quiz shows, having stepped into the dapper shoes of Michael Miles for the 1990s revival of Take Your Pick. But does Des O'Connor have enough sartorial know-how to slip into the capricious cloak of Richard Whiteley, especially after his titular namesake found it impossible to wear such a garment for a little over 12 months?
Des seems almost too avuncular for the front parlour frolics of Countdown. You get the feeling he'd turn up and do an excellent turn at the top of the programme which would go on ... and on ... and on and then have to be cut to ribbons in order to fit the slot, the end result leaving the host looking discomfited.
Sure, we know he'll have a great rapport with Carol and the guests in Dictionary Corner, but would he really have such a great relationship with the contestants? Des excels at jawing with celebrity, not non-entity. Might not his penchant for festive gossip and easy anecdote fall on less receptive ears when unleashed upon ordinary members of the public?
Then there's the business of handling the actual mechanics of the game. Richard could always be relied upon to get excited upon hearing of the existence of a strange new word, or if LEOTARD turned up amongst the letters for the 78th time. Des Lynam, on the other hand, barely registered a glimmer of interest at such fripperies. He hardly smiled either.
Might Des O'Connor be able to demonstrate a similar kind of sincere engagement with the nuts and bolts of Countdown as Mayor Whiteley, or might he end up embracing the stony-faced insouciance of Lord Lynam? The very fact it's not easy to tell fails to fill this writer with glowing confidence in the man's appointment.
Plus there's his age. It's a bit like when they replaced the ageing 007 of Sean Connery with the even older and more cumbersome Roger Moore. Or when they replaced the erstwhile frail and ageing Pope John Paul II with an even more frail and ageing Pope Benedict XVI. Des' arrival isn't exactly a vote of confidence in Countdown's long-term future.
Finally there's there's the fact that taking this gig means Des will now be too busy to do anything else, and that means no more easy-going variety-based chat shows, perhaps forever. All for the sake of playing support to Deal or No Deal.
Des seems almost too avuncular for the front parlour frolics of Countdown. You get the feeling he'd turn up and do an excellent turn at the top of the programme which would go on ... and on ... and on and then have to be cut to ribbons in order to fit the slot, the end result leaving the host looking discomfited.
Sure, we know he'll have a great rapport with Carol and the guests in Dictionary Corner, but would he really have such a great relationship with the contestants? Des excels at jawing with celebrity, not non-entity. Might not his penchant for festive gossip and easy anecdote fall on less receptive ears when unleashed upon ordinary members of the public?
Then there's the business of handling the actual mechanics of the game. Richard could always be relied upon to get excited upon hearing of the existence of a strange new word, or if LEOTARD turned up amongst the letters for the 78th time. Des Lynam, on the other hand, barely registered a glimmer of interest at such fripperies. He hardly smiled either.
Might Des O'Connor be able to demonstrate a similar kind of sincere engagement with the nuts and bolts of Countdown as Mayor Whiteley, or might he end up embracing the stony-faced insouciance of Lord Lynam? The very fact it's not easy to tell fails to fill this writer with glowing confidence in the man's appointment.
Plus there's his age. It's a bit like when they replaced the ageing 007 of Sean Connery with the even older and more cumbersome Roger Moore. Or when they replaced the erstwhile frail and ageing Pope John Paul II with an even more frail and ageing Pope Benedict XVI. Des' arrival isn't exactly a vote of confidence in Countdown's long-term future.
Finally there's there's the fact that taking this gig means Des will now be too busy to do anything else, and that means no more easy-going variety-based chat shows, perhaps forever. All for the sake of playing support to Deal or No Deal.
"I'M LIKE A FUCKING ROTTWEILER"
Yes, all right. Hands up. I've been at the Channel 4 preview discs again. This time, it was the first three episodes of the new series of Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares. It kicks off tonight on C4. And indeed, kicks off is as good a phrase as any, as Gordon is in reliably acerbic form.
The first episode sees him in the Costa del Sol, trying to help an ex-pat eatery turn its trade around. It's frightening stuff, with dog shit in the restaurant and reheated kebabs. The young proprietor is into a scary amount of debt, and yet despite his desperate situation, he takes a huge amount of convincing that his current business model is not the right one.
Episode two, and Ramsay "rocks up" (as he's currently fond of saying) at a Lancashire pub which is a staggering £250,000 in the red. The sixtysomething owner/head chef has suffered numerous heart-attacks, while his penchant for fine dining and habit of collecting crockery on eBay are compounding the problems. And yet, again, it's another case where our hero has to go to great lengths to convince the restaurateur that change has to happen.
In episode three, it's a trip to Liverpool, and a former antiques dealer-turned-restaurant manager. There are some fantastic scenes here as Ramsay and the head chef nearly come to blows, and a great sequence where Gordon has to prep the restaurant for Sunday lunch himself because none of the three management staff show up.
In contrast to The F Word it did seem like Kitchen Nightmares was diminishing upon each return, but judging by the run of episodes so far, that's stopped. A really sensational crop, which - let's face it - are going to undeservedly get beaten into nothing up against I'm a Celebrity ....
On October 19, Gordon Ramsay held court at The Maze restaurant with a group of journos. Here's a bit of what he had to say ...
"This series of Nightmares has been harder, personally, because everyone's trying to outsmart you - which is stupid, because they're on their arse, and the place is struggling. But then they try to pre-empt what you're doing. So we've gone in a lot more creatively in terms of how are we going to completely strip them of everything they know, and change it around so it's more exciting for me. That means they don't have time to be premeditated.
"The biggest problem is where they want an on-off camera scenario. So they want to unplug their microphone and not really talk to you properly, because their next door neighbour thinks they're great and keeps going to their restaurant. And that's bullshit. So the minute that starts, I stop. And that's happened on this series twice, where the contributor wishes for an off-the-camera scenario. It's bollocks. I don't do that. I don't have a card from my producer saying, 'Get into the fridge, check the milk, look at the fur and the mould on the gratin dauphinoise'. I'm like a fucking rottweiler. Let me off the lead, let me sniff them out, then we go through them one by one."
He also spoke a little about what's going to be episode four in the run ...
"It was in Norfolk. I rocked up and the fucker kicked me out - locked me out! This was a former Michelin-starred chef. So Norfolk was harder than any of them because he'd had a lot of success. He was the local bigwig, who was a big star in a little pond. He was hard work. Very hard work. When he kicked me out, it was the first time I phoned up Channel 4 and said, 'Fuck it'. You know what I mean? What's the point of me going back in there if he's not prepared to listen? There are other restaurants we could do.
"But we were halfway through the shoot, so in terms of production value it would have cost a lot to go elsewhere. However, I wanted to make it clear to him that I'm not going to have an undercover scenario where he doesn't want to tell me the truth. My discovery is going to be 10 times more intense unless he comes out with the truth and tells me. Don't be so precious!"
The first episode sees him in the Costa del Sol, trying to help an ex-pat eatery turn its trade around. It's frightening stuff, with dog shit in the restaurant and reheated kebabs. The young proprietor is into a scary amount of debt, and yet despite his desperate situation, he takes a huge amount of convincing that his current business model is not the right one.
Episode two, and Ramsay "rocks up" (as he's currently fond of saying) at a Lancashire pub which is a staggering £250,000 in the red. The sixtysomething owner/head chef has suffered numerous heart-attacks, while his penchant for fine dining and habit of collecting crockery on eBay are compounding the problems. And yet, again, it's another case where our hero has to go to great lengths to convince the restaurateur that change has to happen.
In episode three, it's a trip to Liverpool, and a former antiques dealer-turned-restaurant manager. There are some fantastic scenes here as Ramsay and the head chef nearly come to blows, and a great sequence where Gordon has to prep the restaurant for Sunday lunch himself because none of the three management staff show up.
In contrast to The F Word it did seem like Kitchen Nightmares was diminishing upon each return, but judging by the run of episodes so far, that's stopped. A really sensational crop, which - let's face it - are going to undeservedly get beaten into nothing up against I'm a Celebrity ....
On October 19, Gordon Ramsay held court at The Maze restaurant with a group of journos. Here's a bit of what he had to say ...
"This series of Nightmares has been harder, personally, because everyone's trying to outsmart you - which is stupid, because they're on their arse, and the place is struggling. But then they try to pre-empt what you're doing. So we've gone in a lot more creatively in terms of how are we going to completely strip them of everything they know, and change it around so it's more exciting for me. That means they don't have time to be premeditated.
"The biggest problem is where they want an on-off camera scenario. So they want to unplug their microphone and not really talk to you properly, because their next door neighbour thinks they're great and keeps going to their restaurant. And that's bullshit. So the minute that starts, I stop. And that's happened on this series twice, where the contributor wishes for an off-the-camera scenario. It's bollocks. I don't do that. I don't have a card from my producer saying, 'Get into the fridge, check the milk, look at the fur and the mould on the gratin dauphinoise'. I'm like a fucking rottweiler. Let me off the lead, let me sniff them out, then we go through them one by one."
He also spoke a little about what's going to be episode four in the run ...
"It was in Norfolk. I rocked up and the fucker kicked me out - locked me out! This was a former Michelin-starred chef. So Norfolk was harder than any of them because he'd had a lot of success. He was the local bigwig, who was a big star in a little pond. He was hard work. Very hard work. When he kicked me out, it was the first time I phoned up Channel 4 and said, 'Fuck it'. You know what I mean? What's the point of me going back in there if he's not prepared to listen? There are other restaurants we could do.
"But we were halfway through the shoot, so in terms of production value it would have cost a lot to go elsewhere. However, I wanted to make it clear to him that I'm not going to have an undercover scenario where he doesn't want to tell me the truth. My discovery is going to be 10 times more intense unless he comes out with the truth and tells me. Don't be so precious!"
09 November 2006
PRIVATE INVESTMENT
Thankfully, no-one in the office noticed I was blubbing silently.
Sometimes programmes roll along with a killer format. The Heist for one. That was C4's 2004 series in which a group of ex-cons were challenged to perform a series of audacious robberies while the camera rolled. Sounds great, right? Here's another: A group of real people are dropped into a fictional town, populated entirely by actors and assigned to solve a "murder". That was BBC1's The Murder Game, from 2003. And then there was Wanted. A decade ago, it blazed across C4, sending contestants out across the UK, charged with avoiding bounty hunters while completing daily tasks. And how about the Beeb's 2004 effort Spy? Members of the public are put through real-life MI5-style training in the art of espionage. A winner, surely.
However, aside from just sounding ace in synopsis, all these shows share another common trait - they came and went with barely a ripple. I'm the only person I know who watched The Heist. The Murder Game is acknowledged only as a Saturday night flop. Wanted proved 10 years ahead of its time. And Spy was bunged out on BBC2 in a teatime slot following the departure of The Simpsons with little promotion ... and little effect.
So, here's hoping C4's upcoming The Secret Millionaire manages to dodge the bullet seemingly reserved for these neat, high-concept shows. The format in one line: A millionaire integrates himself within a community and - hiding his wealth - secretly decides who is most deserving of a £20k cash injection. It's a great idea, and pretty good in realisation. Okay, we're firmly in Faking It territory here with deception and life lessons a-plenty, but I have to admit I've just watched the preview DVD from C4, and I was genuinely moved.
The money bags in question is Ben Way, a twentysomething millionaire who becomes a volunteer working at The Pedro Club, a youth centre on Hackney's "murder mile". During his 10-day stint, he integrates well with the locals, attempting to find out where an investment would best help the community. Come the final reel, when Way hands out the cheques - and, don't worry C4, I won't mention who gets the dosh - I was sobbing quietly.
It's a powerful format. Not only a neat idea, but over its hour run time, there's a real sense of catharsis. Aside from the fact it's gratifying to see people who contribute a vast amount to their community finally being rewarded, it's a huge relief when Way's able to reveal just who he is - although his sense of humilty prevents him from saying, "I'm a millionaire", which is kind of what you want to hear. "I run a very successful business," is as broad as he gets.
So, let's see what happens to this latest killer concept. It's on Channel 4 on Wednesday, November 29.
Sometimes programmes roll along with a killer format. The Heist for one. That was C4's 2004 series in which a group of ex-cons were challenged to perform a series of audacious robberies while the camera rolled. Sounds great, right? Here's another: A group of real people are dropped into a fictional town, populated entirely by actors and assigned to solve a "murder". That was BBC1's The Murder Game, from 2003. And then there was Wanted. A decade ago, it blazed across C4, sending contestants out across the UK, charged with avoiding bounty hunters while completing daily tasks. And how about the Beeb's 2004 effort Spy? Members of the public are put through real-life MI5-style training in the art of espionage. A winner, surely.
However, aside from just sounding ace in synopsis, all these shows share another common trait - they came and went with barely a ripple. I'm the only person I know who watched The Heist. The Murder Game is acknowledged only as a Saturday night flop. Wanted proved 10 years ahead of its time. And Spy was bunged out on BBC2 in a teatime slot following the departure of The Simpsons with little promotion ... and little effect.
So, here's hoping C4's upcoming The Secret Millionaire manages to dodge the bullet seemingly reserved for these neat, high-concept shows. The format in one line: A millionaire integrates himself within a community and - hiding his wealth - secretly decides who is most deserving of a £20k cash injection. It's a great idea, and pretty good in realisation. Okay, we're firmly in Faking It territory here with deception and life lessons a-plenty, but I have to admit I've just watched the preview DVD from C4, and I was genuinely moved.
The money bags in question is Ben Way, a twentysomething millionaire who becomes a volunteer working at The Pedro Club, a youth centre on Hackney's "murder mile". During his 10-day stint, he integrates well with the locals, attempting to find out where an investment would best help the community. Come the final reel, when Way hands out the cheques - and, don't worry C4, I won't mention who gets the dosh - I was sobbing quietly.
It's a powerful format. Not only a neat idea, but over its hour run time, there's a real sense of catharsis. Aside from the fact it's gratifying to see people who contribute a vast amount to their community finally being rewarded, it's a huge relief when Way's able to reveal just who he is - although his sense of humilty prevents him from saying, "I'm a millionaire", which is kind of what you want to hear. "I run a very successful business," is as broad as he gets.
So, let's see what happens to this latest killer concept. It's on Channel 4 on Wednesday, November 29.
02 November 2006
TORCHWOULDN'T DO THAT IN REAL LIFE
Watching the third episode of Torchwood, things were rolling along quite merrily for me until the moment when Gwen decides to take that week's alien gizmo home. For some reason I couldn't get past this point - the same thing had happened during episode one. I mean, if Torchwood existed for real that wouldn't happen - it just wouldn't. Similarly, its agents wouldn't simply down tools at the end of their shift and go home - there would be protocols, screenings, and - you know - stuff that comes with working for a top secret organisation.
Similarly, one of the reasons I didn't enjoy series two of Extras was that it also failed to be plausible. Would the BBC really make a mainstream comedy series with wigs, laughter tracks etc that contained a sequence which ended with a character singing the words "covered in shit"? Oh, and would a series still part way through its first run be eligible for a BAFTA at that year's awards?
But the question is do such things really matter? Should the viewer just simply "go with it" and judge Extras or Torchwood on their respective merits as drama and comedy? I sense there is a school of thought out there that would support this view and would basically categorize those viewers who can't get past such inaccuracies as stick-in-the-muds. Well, maybe we are, but there are real problems with these breaches of reality - to whit: a) they pull you out of the fiction (it's quite difficult to care about Gwen arsing around with the alien projector thing when you're too busy moaning about the fact she would never have been able to take it home in the "real" world); and b) they feel like expediencies to allow the writer to create a situation that couldn't be constructed in a more elegant manner.
Now of course Torchwood is essentially a telefantasy series, so aren't we being wilfully nit picky to complain about the obvious lack of an office cleaner, while happily accepting the notion of an invisible lift? That's not the issue though, the problem with Torchwood is that it doesn't seem to possess a stable sense of internal reality. We can swallow the fact that Ian Beale has had umpteen wives and Albert Square has the highest murder rate in the country, but that's because we know EastEnders' relationship with reality is consistent. The programme is not very "real" but, crucially, the degree of its not "realness" remains the same from episode to episode, scene to scene (let's call it reality + 10 per cent).
On the other hand, at points Torchwood seems very much like our world, with (almost) the same laws of pointless bureaucracy and everyday drudgery applying. But then moments later, just when you think you've got a hang of which particular adjunct from the real world the programme is occupying, it does something silly like have the other members of the Torchwood team sit around laughing and gawping while one of their number has been lured into a cell by a dangerous sex-mad alien.
This is a legitimate gripe, I think, but I sense it's one that's being dismissed by those who think we should just jump on and enjoy the ride. Well I would like to, but not until I know who pays Torchwood's salaries, and whether or not they have to file a tax return each year.
Similarly, one of the reasons I didn't enjoy series two of Extras was that it also failed to be plausible. Would the BBC really make a mainstream comedy series with wigs, laughter tracks etc that contained a sequence which ended with a character singing the words "covered in shit"? Oh, and would a series still part way through its first run be eligible for a BAFTA at that year's awards?
But the question is do such things really matter? Should the viewer just simply "go with it" and judge Extras or Torchwood on their respective merits as drama and comedy? I sense there is a school of thought out there that would support this view and would basically categorize those viewers who can't get past such inaccuracies as stick-in-the-muds. Well, maybe we are, but there are real problems with these breaches of reality - to whit: a) they pull you out of the fiction (it's quite difficult to care about Gwen arsing around with the alien projector thing when you're too busy moaning about the fact she would never have been able to take it home in the "real" world); and b) they feel like expediencies to allow the writer to create a situation that couldn't be constructed in a more elegant manner.
Now of course Torchwood is essentially a telefantasy series, so aren't we being wilfully nit picky to complain about the obvious lack of an office cleaner, while happily accepting the notion of an invisible lift? That's not the issue though, the problem with Torchwood is that it doesn't seem to possess a stable sense of internal reality. We can swallow the fact that Ian Beale has had umpteen wives and Albert Square has the highest murder rate in the country, but that's because we know EastEnders' relationship with reality is consistent. The programme is not very "real" but, crucially, the degree of its not "realness" remains the same from episode to episode, scene to scene (let's call it reality + 10 per cent).
On the other hand, at points Torchwood seems very much like our world, with (almost) the same laws of pointless bureaucracy and everyday drudgery applying. But then moments later, just when you think you've got a hang of which particular adjunct from the real world the programme is occupying, it does something silly like have the other members of the Torchwood team sit around laughing and gawping while one of their number has been lured into a cell by a dangerous sex-mad alien.
This is a legitimate gripe, I think, but I sense it's one that's being dismissed by those who think we should just jump on and enjoy the ride. Well I would like to, but not until I know who pays Torchwood's salaries, and whether or not they have to file a tax return each year.
"YOU JUST WANT A HAPPY-CLAPPY PROGRAMME"
Heat magazine (yeah, yeah) reports this week that the centrepiece for next year's Comic Relief will be, oh God, Fame Academy again. It's quite remarkable given that, by the time it comes around, it'll have been four years since the last proper series of the show, but seemingly such is the dearth of ideas for Comic Relief, it's being allowed to live on purely in its celebrity version forever. Indeed I'm not sure how the BBC are happy with this flop continuing - what next, Celebrity Eldorado?
Inevitably Heat are already banging on about the excitement of seeing Patrick Kielty and Richard Park clashing again, but surely that was the one thing everyone hated about the original series? It wasn't good-natured joshing but absolute hatred between the pair, culminating, of course, in Park's one-handed salute. Presumably this is considered exciting telly, but as far as I'm concerned it's simply excrutiatingly embarrassing to watch.
Of course, it was all Kielty's fault, as Park always seemed rather perceptive. Perhaps his finest hour was when he said that suggesting someone was "better than Madonna", as Carrie Grant did, was "dangerous rubbish", which is fair comment and perfectly constructive criticism. In amongst the handbags, there was the germ of a good show here, though the second series lost all that was distinctive or indeed worthwhile about the whole thing.
Still, if it can keep on coming back, there's hope for a second single from Ainslie yet.
Inevitably Heat are already banging on about the excitement of seeing Patrick Kielty and Richard Park clashing again, but surely that was the one thing everyone hated about the original series? It wasn't good-natured joshing but absolute hatred between the pair, culminating, of course, in Park's one-handed salute. Presumably this is considered exciting telly, but as far as I'm concerned it's simply excrutiatingly embarrassing to watch.
Of course, it was all Kielty's fault, as Park always seemed rather perceptive. Perhaps his finest hour was when he said that suggesting someone was "better than Madonna", as Carrie Grant did, was "dangerous rubbish", which is fair comment and perfectly constructive criticism. In amongst the handbags, there was the germ of a good show here, though the second series lost all that was distinctive or indeed worthwhile about the whole thing.
Still, if it can keep on coming back, there's hope for a second single from Ainslie yet.