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In View - The Month in Television |
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The second part of our special double-edition...
IN VIEW - The Month in Television
by Adrian E.C. Petford
April 1996
Given that contemporary television tends to rely on endlessly recycled, trustworthy formulas and - save for a belated trend to make single pilots again in recent years - has largely abandoned the one-off play, the month of April stood out for its large number of notable single programmes.
The 250th anniversary of the last battle to be fought on British soil gave the BBC an excellent opportunity to dust off Peter Watkins' acclaimed drama-documentary reconstruction Culloden, repeated for the first time since its original broadcast in 1964. Nowadays, Watkins' notoriety is largely because his later film, a realistic and controversial account of a nuclear attack on Britain in the sixties titled The War Game, was banned by the BBC and remained untransmitted on British television until 1985, some twenty years after it was made. That film retains all its original power and impact, despite its age, and the same can be said of Culloden. Watkins adopted a completely realistic, uncompromising style for both plays, using largely amateur casts and shooting in the style of a television documentary, with on-the-spot interviews, commentary and analysis of events as they happened. Culloden is literally a blow-by-blow account of the battle and its equally bloody aftermath, from the point of view of various eyewitnesses and protagonists. A straight dramatic reconstruction would have been strong enough given the obvious horror of the battle, but the documentary standpoint adds an extra dimension; the narration is spontaneous and immediate; the realistic camerawork, violently lurching and shaking in time to the cannon fire and explosions, truly places the viewer in the midst of the fighting and the use of unknown faces plays down the fact it is a dramatisation. In fact, the actors in Culloden were mostly descendants of those who fought in the original battle and all do a creditable job in bringing their characters to life.
At the time, Culloden was hailed as a masterpiece, and I would personally say it still deserves that accolade over thirty years on. It is a difficult, harrowing and disturbing film to watch, but conveys the brutality of the period, and this bloody, tragic episode in particular, very effectively. Like Rudolph Cartier's Nineteen Eighty-Four before it, it remains one of the great landmarks of television drama, perhaps being to location filming what Cartier's play was to studio-bound production.
It says a lot for television today that the modern documentary that preceded Culloden's repeat, titled Rebellion (14 April) and also touted as a dramatised reconstruction, was a confused and shallow mess of infantile drivel by comparison. Despite being the work of the same historian who advised on Culloden, John Prebble, this turned out to be a simplistic and empty account that tried to disguise its dearth of hard information by the use of glossy, time-lapse film inserts attempting, very badly, to reconstruct the battle. This hideous cacophony of flying, blurred colours and pounding music was so tasteless it could have been likened to televisual vomit. Give me the harsh monochrome and unpretentious style of Watkins' film any day.
Without Walls' "C4PD" strand of documentaries, which had already surprised me with a superb edition on Starsky and Hutch (see last month) more than fulfilled this early promise with its entries on Z Cars (2 April) and The Professionals (9 April). The former combined an obvious depth of research with many wonderful vintage moments, and some great reminiscences from a large number of former cast members. Perhaps the only minor failing was the lack of coverage for the videotaped series (1965-1978) which really deserved a documentary in its own right, but as a retrospective of the early, landmark years of live broacasts, which defined Z Cars' gritty style and influenced just about every subsequent police series, it was an appropriate tribute. The Professionals documentary was chiefly notable for being one of the few instances of a show of this type I can remember where the friction between cast and crew members that existed at the time actually came out on the screen here. Usually, the passage of time and rose-tinted spectacles syndrome tends to blur any differences that existed years before, but not in this case. It was very apparent by the close of play that the series was less than happy to work on for some of those involved, and, for this reason, The Professionals edition was probably the most accurate account of any of the series covered. I hope that Without Walls decide to do more TV series nostalgia editions of this type, as these three documentaries really stood out from the usual crowd in their overall quality.
Next, to another old favourite police series, namely The Bill, which, even given its thrice-weekly transmissions throughout the year shows no sign of flagging as it approaches its thousandth episode. Many people seem to overlook The Bill due to the sheer number of episodes, or mistakenly regard it as a soap opera due to its permanence in the schedules. But those that don't follow it should be aware that they are missing out on one of the most consistently outstanding drama series ever seen on British television. In the police genre, The Bill remains unsurpassed in its flexibility; we've seen politics within the highest ranks of the force, human interest stories, moments of high comedy, horrific crimes in abundance and a fair share of the mundane duties that occupy most of the average copper's time. Just like real life in fact. This freedom, offering potentially limitless subject matter, is backed up by an exceptionally strong cast of regulars, all effectively portrayed as three-dimensional, fallible people, and a realistic, documentary feel. Like any long-running series, there have been ups and downs in the quality of both scripts and the cast at times, but the last eighteen months or so have been universally outstanding and this strong position has allowed the team to experiment more, with some interesting results.
I knew when I read we were going to see Sun Hill's finest manning the buffet stalls for the annual police pensioners' get-together that we would be in for a treat and I was not disappointed. "Dancers" (12 April) was not only one of the best episodes there's ever been of The Bill, but also one of the funniest programmes we've seen during the year so far. PC Stamp (Graham Cole) was tasked to pick up a cantankerous former detective (Tenniel Evans) to take him to the restaurant, and, stopping briefly en route, returned to find their borrowed car had been stolen. Big problem... said car belonged to Chief Superintendent Brownlow (Peter Ellis)! As if this wasn't bad enough, by the time they actually arrived at the restaurant, the retired detective became desperate to secure one last collar... an old adversary, who he'd been unable to put away in 1974, happened to be in the next room at his granddaughter's wedding reception. Enter PC Hollis (Jeff Stewart) with his magic show and amazing escaping rabbit, which ensured the discreet arrest the police wanted was the last thing that ensued! Justice was eventually satisfied though, after much chaos. All credit to the team for being so brave in trying to do an overtly comedic episode. It put many sitcoms to shame and, as far as this reviewer is concerned, deserves an award for its originality alone. Let's hope the praise "Dancers" has received prompts The Bill's bosses to take more such risks every now and again...
Other notable one-offs during the month included a repeat of a classic episode of Hill Street Blues, which proved, if any proof is ever needed, why this series is just crying out for a complete re-run. Come on, Channel Four... you know it makes sense. I was also amused, not to mention amazed, to hear Janet Street-Porter admit to being "a bit of a nerd" on Have I Got News For You, which had a deeply ironic ring given her fanatical anti-nerd rantings a few weeks before in "J'accuse Technonerds" for Without Walls (see last month). Maybe the hostile reaction that infamous diatribe received has prompted her to try nailing her colours to a different mast. Somehow though, I think Janet Street-Porter trying to embrace the so-called "nerd community" now would be rather like Salman Rushdie deciding it's about time to take a holiday in Tehran...
Mention of the ubiquitious nerds leads nicely into a mention for Triumph of the Nerds (14-28 April), a three-part history of the development of the personal computer from its earliest beginnings with companies run out of garages to the current worldwide dominance by a few major players. Apart from the title, which was far too stereotypical (The original book's title, Accidental Empires, would have been far more appropriate), the series was a fascinating insight into an incredible and often bizarre success story. Featuring interviews with all the major protagonists, masses of archive footage, and tongue-in-cheek analysis from presenter Bob Cringely, this has filled in a lot of the blanks even the most avid of computer buffs still have about where it all began. If you failed to catch it this time, watch out for a repeat showing, as it's absolutely unmissable.
Cardiac Arrest, the hard-hitting hospital drama series returned, although sadly it appears to have been castrated in between seasons. Normally, I am not a fan of medical series, but this one stood out as it attempted to portray life in the NHS system as it really is. A totally up-front, hard-hitting style that pulled no punches was nicely balanced by a dark, sardonic humour that permeated all of the previous scripts. Needless to say, such a daring approach can never last and it seems, after the number of complaints they must have received after last year's "Factor 8" bloodbath episode, that this new series has had its teeth extracted. I should have noticed the warning signs: the Radio Times proudly proclaimed that "for this series, the writing has matured", which, in BBC Newspeak roughly equates to "for this series, due to the complaints, we've totally lost our bottle". The current series seems less than realistic in places and the trademark humour is also noticeable by its absence. Even worse, the two strongest characters by far, doctors Claire Maitland (Helen Baxendale) and Raj Rajah (Ahsen Bhatti) have not appeared in every episode, which seems a deeply misguided approach. They need to capitalise on what pulling power they still have, and are not going to maintain their audience by having the characters appearing and disappearing all over the place. A great shame, given Cardiac Arrest's previous good reputation and obvious high quality; there is still time for the current series to improve, but I can't help feeling at this stage that involuntary euthanasia will eventually prove the most appropriate course of treatment.
On a somewhat lighter note, just one closing mention for an old favourite of mine, Frank Skinner's vastly underrated sitcom Blue Heaven, currently reshowing in a late-night Tuesday slot on Channel Four. The idea sounds appalling (A couple of friends try to hit the big time with their two-man pop group) but proved a real revelation the first time around, handling a cliched idea in a highly original way. Skinner's deadpan writing and delivery live in the memory, and the series also boasts a wonderful performance from that fine actress Paula Wilcox as his mother. The guest cast is eqally impressive, featuring cameos from such notable performers as Tony Robinson, Serena Gordon and Nadim Sawalha. Plus the fact, of course, that the series holds a special significance for Kaleidoscope's organisers in particular, due to it being set in the West Midlands, the area where most of us grew up. In fact, one particularly hilarious episode was filmed on location in Stourbridge, the town where we've held all our major events since Kaleidoscope started in 1988. Although the humour is quite specific to this region, it is still accessible to everyone and the series even has a following in the US, which is quite an achievement for such an obscure sitcom. Blue Heaven is definitely one not to be missed, that I cannot recommend highly enough. Like all well-kept secrets, it needs a few more people to be let in on it...
And, with the month of April drawing to a close, I am just able to include the the first part of Dennis Potter's swansong double-whammy, Karaoke, which, despite the hostile critical comment, is at least being thoroughly enjoyed by this reviewer. With this, and its sequel Cold Lazarus set to run over the next two months, we should be in for some real quality viewing in the coming weeks. With more new programmes on the horizon, May should prove to be an interesting month.
Copyright © Adrian E.C. Petford 1996. All Rights Reserved.
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