Say what you like about ITV1’s updated Marple - and many have - the cast list is OTT-ly stellar. I’m especially intrigued by their decision to work their way through the entire cast list of Green Wing.
Last week it was Stephen Mangan (Dr Guillaume 'Guy' Valerie Secretan in GW; Inspector Bird in Marple), and Mark Heap (Dr Alan Statham; Mr Humfries). Last night it was the turn of Julian Rhind-Tutt (Dr 'Mac' Macartney; Dr Calgary) and Pippa Haywood (Joanna Clore; Mrs Price).
In his review last year, Jonathan Calder lauded the BBC’s Joan Hickson version of Miss Marple: “an impeccable performance set off by a frequently immaculate supporting cast and sensetive direction. And Geraldine McEwan's is a lesser performance which is often hindered by the setting in which it has been placed.”
I cannot disagree with him about Joan Hickson’s portrayal: she is Miss Marple. Which is, of course, why ITV was quite right not to try and replicate what had gone before. Where I do part company with Jonathan is about the production values of the BBC adaptations, which are very much of their time, and therefore (whisper it gently) rather dull.
Having absolutely loved the Hickson Marples as a child, I was distressed to catch a couple of them recently, and discover quite how torturously ponderous the script and direction is. By comparison, the ITV versions are slick, pacy and glowing with irony.
Which might not be to your taste, of course. But, just as theatrical productions of timeless pieces can vary, I don’t see why telly shouldn’t feel free to update itself for a new generation.
Showing posts with label television. Show all posts
Showing posts with label television. Show all posts
October 01, 2007
September 05, 2007
More combing and why's OR The post what I wrote
Earlier this week, I compiled the Top Lib Dem Media Tarts of the Year over at Lib Dem Voice. It doesn’t take that long to comb the Lexis-Nexis database on which it’s based, but, still, I need something to occupy my mind while I tally numbers.
Fortunately, the BBC recently released this Morecambe and Wise dvd, keeping me happily occupied. Which is all the excuse I need to post this clip:
Fortunately, the BBC recently released this Morecambe and Wise dvd, keeping me happily occupied. Which is all the excuse I need to post this clip:
August 04, 2007
Coup de grace
It’s almost 20 years since A Very British Coup was first shown on Channel 4, and a quarter of a century since the book from which it was adapted, by Labour MP Chris Mullin, was published.
In some ways it is unbelievably dated. It portrays the election of a socialist Labour government, and the battles of its charismatic Sheffield ex-steel-worker leader, Harry Perkins - fantastically played by Ray McAnally - to implement a left-wing manifesto of nationalisation, huge public spending increases, and nuclear disarmament against the machinations of the right-wing establishment. Somewhat ironically, it is set in 1989, the year of the collapse of Communism.
If you’ve seen Defence of the Realm (with the excellent Gabriel Byrne) or Edge of Darkness (with the superb Bob Peck) you’ll know the drill - the little, honest man must face down the big, evil forces of conservatism. But it doesn’t make it any less compelling.
Scripted by Alan Plater, AVBC zips along at a whip-crack pace quite unusual among 80s’ dramas (so many of which luxuriate in their own somnambulance, with lengthy tracking shots and huge tracts of expository dialogue). It is also more than a little scary to see an oh-so-young Keith Allen appear as the PM’s press secretary, playing John the Baptist to Alastair Campbell.
You can buy it (or rent it) at Amazon, and doubtless many other retail outlets. If you want a flavour of the treat you have in store, here’s the opening few minutes of the film, courtesy of YouTube. There’s some smokin’ dialogue to relish, and watch out in particular for some fantastically ‘80s electronica graphics about 4½ minutes in.
In some ways it is unbelievably dated. It portrays the election of a socialist Labour government, and the battles of its charismatic Sheffield ex-steel-worker leader, Harry Perkins - fantastically played by Ray McAnally - to implement a left-wing manifesto of nationalisation, huge public spending increases, and nuclear disarmament against the machinations of the right-wing establishment. Somewhat ironically, it is set in 1989, the year of the collapse of Communism.
If you’ve seen Defence of the Realm (with the excellent Gabriel Byrne) or Edge of Darkness (with the superb Bob Peck) you’ll know the drill - the little, honest man must face down the big, evil forces of conservatism. But it doesn’t make it any less compelling.
Scripted by Alan Plater, AVBC zips along at a whip-crack pace quite unusual among 80s’ dramas (so many of which luxuriate in their own somnambulance, with lengthy tracking shots and huge tracts of expository dialogue). It is also more than a little scary to see an oh-so-young Keith Allen appear as the PM’s press secretary, playing John the Baptist to Alastair Campbell.
You can buy it (or rent it) at Amazon, and doubtless many other retail outlets. If you want a flavour of the treat you have in store, here’s the opening few minutes of the film, courtesy of YouTube. There’s some smokin’ dialogue to relish, and watch out in particular for some fantastically ‘80s electronica graphics about 4½ minutes in.
May 25, 2007
Lessons in liberalism (courtesy The West Wing)
Over at CommentCentral, Daniel Finkelstein invites folks to relax on a Friday evening with a classic West Wing clip courtesy of YouTube. It’s an excerpt from the electric Ritchie-Bartlett presidential debate where Jed shows he’s not going to do an Uncle Fluffy.
But it’s not my favourite… Here’s Bruno Gianelli, the political strategist’s political strategist, demanding a bit of kick-ass liberalism. (Ironically, the actor who played Bruno, Ron Silver, switched from the Democrats to the Republicans in the wake of 9/11.)
And finally… here’s one of the best distillations of the conflicting (and often conflicted) philosophies between ‘big government’ Democrats and ‘small government’ Republicans. Take it away Ainsley Hayes and Sam Seaborn:
But it’s not my favourite… Here’s Bruno Gianelli, the political strategist’s political strategist, demanding a bit of kick-ass liberalism. (Ironically, the actor who played Bruno, Ron Silver, switched from the Democrats to the Republicans in the wake of 9/11.)
And finally… here’s one of the best distillations of the conflicting (and often conflicted) philosophies between ‘big government’ Democrats and ‘small government’ Republicans. Take it away Ainsley Hayes and Sam Seaborn:
May 24, 2007
Ofcom: interfering busybodies or upholding standards?
Even before Big Brother 8 starts, its shallow spin-off Celebrity Big Brother is again hitting the headlines, following media regulator Ofcom’s decision to order Channel 4 to apologise three times for showing footage of Bollywood star Shilpa Shetty being taunted by fellow contestants Jade Goody, Jack Tweedy and Jo O’Meara.
My first reaction was one of concern - why should a regulator force a channel to apologise for screening individuals showing themselves in their true (and unattractive) colours? Jade telling Shilpa to “Fuck off home” was racist and deeply unpleasant - but that Jade felt this was an acceptable insult to hurl provided an insight into her character and standards, which is surely the point of a reality show like Big Brother.
The public reaction - over-hyped by the media, who typically glorified in lambasting C4 while gleefully repeating the offensive remarks - demonstrated far better than any Ofcom ruling the contempt in which views such as Jade’s are widely regarded by substantial numbers of the liberal, tolerant viewing public.
However, I then read Ofcom’s ruling - and it shows that what they took umbrage with C4 for was not the channel’s decision to show some D-listers proving their tawdry ignorance, but that the show’s producers had not seen all the relevant footage when they made the decision to broadcast Jade & co’s remarks.
Specifically, this included untransmitted footage of the racist trio’s doubtless side-splitting attempts to work the word ‘Paki’ into a limerick. In Ofcom’s judgement, C4 needed to be aware of this wider context before broadcasting incidents such as Jade’s “Shilpa poppadom” comment, so that it could be placed in its full context. As Ofcom notes:
This clearly didn’t happen in the case of the latest Celebrity Big Brother, and there was the potential for viewers to be misled - to view Jade’s racist remarks as isolated incidents erupting in the heat of the moment, rather than as exempla of the casual, careless but systematic bullying they in fact were.
My first reaction was one of concern - why should a regulator force a channel to apologise for screening individuals showing themselves in their true (and unattractive) colours? Jade telling Shilpa to “Fuck off home” was racist and deeply unpleasant - but that Jade felt this was an acceptable insult to hurl provided an insight into her character and standards, which is surely the point of a reality show like Big Brother.
The public reaction - over-hyped by the media, who typically glorified in lambasting C4 while gleefully repeating the offensive remarks - demonstrated far better than any Ofcom ruling the contempt in which views such as Jade’s are widely regarded by substantial numbers of the liberal, tolerant viewing public.
However, I then read Ofcom’s ruling - and it shows that what they took umbrage with C4 for was not the channel’s decision to show some D-listers proving their tawdry ignorance, but that the show’s producers had not seen all the relevant footage when they made the decision to broadcast Jade & co’s remarks.
Specifically, this included untransmitted footage of the racist trio’s doubtless side-splitting attempts to work the word ‘Paki’ into a limerick. In Ofcom’s judgement, C4 needed to be aware of this wider context before broadcasting incidents such as Jade’s “Shilpa poppadom” comment, so that it could be placed in its full context. As Ofcom notes:
The audience’s understanding of the events in the House and, in particular, the alleged racist bullying, was changing as the series developed and therefore comments which may in other circumstances have been interpreted as “borderline” in terms of offence became much more offensive given what was happening in the House, as well as beyond the House, in the outside world.Seen in this light, Ofcom’s ruling seems to me entirely sensible, even commendable. As viewers, we rely on C4 editing shows - whether entertainment reality like Big Brother, or serious documentaries like Dispatches - in a responsible, fair and balanced way. This requires producers and editors to be in possession of the full facts, so that the highlights package can be properly filtered and contextualised.
This clearly didn’t happen in the case of the latest Celebrity Big Brother, and there was the potential for viewers to be misled - to view Jade’s racist remarks as isolated incidents erupting in the heat of the moment, rather than as exempla of the casual, careless but systematic bullying they in fact were.
April 01, 2007
Spooky
‘Fraid I’ve never been much of a Dr Who fanboy: ‘quite-enjoy-it-sometimes-watch-it’ is about my level of enthusiasm.
Last night’s episode, ‘Smith and Jones’, was a really rather fine opener to the new series, and it was especially good to see Roy Marsden back on the small screen. Between 1984 and 1998, he was the personification of PD James’s slightly implausible poet-sleuth, Commander Adam Dalgliesh, in ITV’s adaptations of her classy crime novels.
When the BBC took over the rights, the role was given to Martin Shaw. It is apparently the law that he must play the lead in every maverick ‘tec show; just as it is Mr Shaw’s law of acting that he must play each character in the same way, with sleeves purposely rolled-up.
But what I enjoyed most was that Roy Marsden played the part of a senior consultant at the Royal Marsden. It’s either pure co-incidence, or someone at Who-casting has a desert-dry sense of humour.
Last night’s episode, ‘Smith and Jones’, was a really rather fine opener to the new series, and it was especially good to see Roy Marsden back on the small screen. Between 1984 and 1998, he was the personification of PD James’s slightly implausible poet-sleuth, Commander Adam Dalgliesh, in ITV’s adaptations of her classy crime novels.
When the BBC took over the rights, the role was given to Martin Shaw. It is apparently the law that he must play the lead in every maverick ‘tec show; just as it is Mr Shaw’s law of acting that he must play each character in the same way, with sleeves purposely rolled-up.
But what I enjoyed most was that Roy Marsden played the part of a senior consultant at the Royal Marsden. It’s either pure co-incidence, or someone at Who-casting has a desert-dry sense of humour.
March 26, 2007
Be careful what you wish for
The best reality show on telly, The Apprentice, returns tonight on prime-time BBC1.
The winner of the top slot can look forward to working alongside Siralan Sugar for one year for a not-to-be-sniffed-at retainer of £100k.
But, if the trend of the previous two series continues, one of the losers will wind up elected a London Tory councillor:
Seems a harsh punishment.
But, then, it's pretty harsh on BBC2 as well, who have had yet another ratings banker poached by BBC1, with The Apprentice following in the footsteps of Have I Got News For You and Trinny & Susannah.
PS: of course, its ratings are likely to suffer a down-turn this week, owing to a scheduling clash with 18 Doughty Street. Andy Mayer, Christopher Ames and me are the rival attraction at 9pm on Iain Dale’s Blogger TV.
The winner of the top slot can look forward to working alongside Siralan Sugar for one year for a not-to-be-sniffed-at retainer of £100k.
But, if the trend of the previous two series continues, one of the losers will wind up elected a London Tory councillor:
- Series 1: Matthew Palmer, fired in week 5;
- Series 2: Ben Stanberry, fired in week 1.
Seems a harsh punishment.
But, then, it's pretty harsh on BBC2 as well, who have had yet another ratings banker poached by BBC1, with The Apprentice following in the footsteps of Have I Got News For You and Trinny & Susannah.
PS: of course, its ratings are likely to suffer a down-turn this week, owing to a scheduling clash with 18 Doughty Street. Andy Mayer, Christopher Ames and me are the rival attraction at 9pm on Iain Dale’s Blogger TV.
February 27, 2007
Beaton, not stirred
Last year the Indy chose the headline, Is Alistair Beaton Britain's greatest living satirist?, to trail its profile of the Spitting Image writer turned playwright.
The answer is clearly no*, as anyone who has seen his most recent works - The Trial of Tony Blair and A Very Social Secretary - will well understand. (He was also, lest we remember, co-responsible for 1990’s Dunrulin’, an execrably unfunny BBC1 sit-com depicting Margaret and Denis Thatcher’s post-Downing Street lives.)
Rather, he is the clunking fist of modern satire - shades of grey, nuance, character development and subtlety are all knocked to the four corners of the earth by his tediously heavy-handed approach.
Tomorrow, Mr Beaton’s executive producer on those earlier collaborations, David Aukin, turns his attention to John Prescott in ITV1’s Confessions of a Diary Secretary. I won’t be watching. Nor, it seems, will The Guardian’s John Harris, who lambasts it as “another contribution to the chain of comedies and dramas in which TV's much coveted edginess is simply a matter of wildly speculative scripts about politicians in office”.
However, I do feel the need to stick up for the show in one respect. Mr Harris alleges that:
* The answer is Chris Morris as any fule kno.
Correction (28/2/07): this post originally, and erroneously, referred to Alistair Beaton as the writer of Confessions of a Diary Secretary. The only link to Mr Beaton is via the show's executive producer, David Aukin, and I have amended the article accordingly. Though he hasn't requested I apologise - simply to correct what was wrong - I'd like to take this opportunity do so anyway.
The answer is clearly no*, as anyone who has seen his most recent works - The Trial of Tony Blair and A Very Social Secretary - will well understand. (He was also, lest we remember, co-responsible for 1990’s Dunrulin’, an execrably unfunny BBC1 sit-com depicting Margaret and Denis Thatcher’s post-Downing Street lives.)
Rather, he is the clunking fist of modern satire - shades of grey, nuance, character development and subtlety are all knocked to the four corners of the earth by his tediously heavy-handed approach.
Tomorrow, Mr Beaton’s executive producer on those earlier collaborations, David Aukin, turns his attention to John Prescott in ITV1’s Confessions of a Diary Secretary. I won’t be watching. Nor, it seems, will The Guardian’s John Harris, who lambasts it as “another contribution to the chain of comedies and dramas in which TV's much coveted edginess is simply a matter of wildly speculative scripts about politicians in office”.
However, I do feel the need to stick up for the show in one respect. Mr Harris alleges that:
Its acme of awfulness is a reconstruction of the watershed Brown-Blair summit at Prescott's Admiralty Arch flat in 2004. Brown requests a higher chair than Blair's, only for the latter to observe that - please, hold on to your sides - "Gordon's always looked down on me."He’s entitled to his opinion about the humour. But, at least if we are to believe the Indy on Sunday’s political editor, Steve Richards, the incident is real enough. Indeed, he wrote a column describing just such a scene in July 2004:
The truce began last November [2003], when Mr Prescott famously hosted a dinner, acting as a mediator for both men after they had fallen out in public. Friends of the duo describe that evening as "cathartic". Mr Prescott is uniquely trusted by both figures. Indeed if there was not a John Prescott there would be a need to invent one in the current stormy climate. I am told that when the three of them first sat awkwardly around Mr Prescott's table, Mr Brown complained about his chair, that it was uncomfortable and too low. Mr Prescott rushed off to get the Chancellor a more satisfactory seat. He asked Mr Blair if he also wanted a new chair, to which the Prime Minster replied, "No, it's alright, Gordon has always looked down on me." That characteristically self-deprecating and accurate joke lightened the tense proceedings.I have to say I find it hard to believe that (rather pointed) joke would actually have lightened the atmosphere between Messrs Blair and Brown. But I find it even harder to believe that this example of accurate characterisation will transform Confessions from overblown farce into acute satire.
* The answer is Chris Morris as any fule kno.
Correction (28/2/07): this post originally, and erroneously, referred to Alistair Beaton as the writer of Confessions of a Diary Secretary. The only link to Mr Beaton is via the show's executive producer, David Aukin, and I have amended the article accordingly. Though he hasn't requested I apologise - simply to correct what was wrong - I'd like to take this opportunity do so anyway.
February 25, 2007
And back down to earth
The following - short - conversation took place this afternoon:
Me: So, did you see me on the telly, then?
Friend: Yes - you could have done with some make-up.
Me: So, did you see me on the telly, then?
Friend: Yes - you could have done with some make-up.
December 19, 2006
Because it matters
MediaGrauniad’s Organ Grinder is once again asking its readers what have been their favourite TV shows this year. Which made me realise two things.
First, that I seem to have watched very little telly this year, for which I lay the blame firmly at the feet of Oxford City Council. And, secondly, what I have watched has tended to be on DVD, or via teh internets.
Still, as this blog is in a pre-Christmas mood of polls and random desiderata (otherwise known as being too knackered to write thoughtful op-ed pieces on current issues of import), I have managed to pull together my top 5:
1. The West Wing, Season 7 (More4)
2. QI (BBC2)
3. The Apprentice (BBC2)
4. The Daily Show with Jon Stewart (More4)
5. The Line of Beauty (BBC2)
With honourable mentions to: Have I Got News For You (BBC1), Doctor Who (BBC1), Lead Balloon (BBC4), and Charlie Brooker's Screen Wipe (BBC4).
PS: I see from last year’s Organ Grinder that I was, to my shame, nerdy enough to post my 2005 list there:
1. The West Wing.
2. QI.
3. Peep Show.
4. The Apprentice.
5. The Thick Of It.
Clearly the last year has changed me in so many ways…
First, that I seem to have watched very little telly this year, for which I lay the blame firmly at the feet of Oxford City Council. And, secondly, what I have watched has tended to be on DVD, or via teh internets.
Still, as this blog is in a pre-Christmas mood of polls and random desiderata (otherwise known as being too knackered to write thoughtful op-ed pieces on current issues of import), I have managed to pull together my top 5:
1. The West Wing, Season 7 (More4)
2. QI (BBC2)
3. The Apprentice (BBC2)
4. The Daily Show with Jon Stewart (More4)
5. The Line of Beauty (BBC2)
With honourable mentions to: Have I Got News For You (BBC1), Doctor Who (BBC1), Lead Balloon (BBC4), and Charlie Brooker's Screen Wipe (BBC4).
PS: I see from last year’s Organ Grinder that I was, to my shame, nerdy enough to post my 2005 list there:
1. The West Wing.
2. QI.
3. Peep Show.
4. The Apprentice.
5. The Thick Of It.
Clearly the last year has changed me in so many ways…
December 11, 2006
It's all about choice
I’m appearing again on Iain Dale’s Vox Politix show over at internet TV station 18 Doughty Street at 9pm tonight. Fellow panellists (attendees? interviewees? - what is the noun?) are Paul Burgin, Kerron Cross and Barckley Sumner.
So, as a service to you all, here are your alternatives:
BBC1: New Tricks.
BBC2: The Choir. (I enjoyed last week’s.)
ITV1: Film - Analyze That.
C4: Monarchy by David Starkey.
Five: Film - Blown Away.
So, as a service to you all, here are your alternatives:
BBC1: New Tricks.
BBC2: The Choir. (I enjoyed last week’s.)
ITV1: Film - Analyze That.
C4: Monarchy by David Starkey.
Five: Film - Blown Away.
November 27, 2006
ITV makes the Grade
Michael Grade’s shock transfer from BBC to ITV is (pace the Norfolk Blogger) good news for television. The main commercial channel desperately needs a big hitter, a guy who understands budget lines - but, just as importantly, understands programming.
As I’ve argued before, good television is not determined by having one public service broadcaster funded by a licence fee, but by having a plurality of channels competing to drive up standards.
Before my boss, Tim Gardam, became my boss, he was a senior TV executive. A couple of months ago, he delivered a lecture in honour of Donald Baverstock, a legendary controller of BBC television.
It’s well worth reading in full, but this section will suffice for now. Not least for its devolutionary vigour, and spooky prescience:
As I’ve argued before, good television is not determined by having one public service broadcaster funded by a licence fee, but by having a plurality of channels competing to drive up standards.
Before my boss, Tim Gardam, became my boss, he was a senior TV executive. A couple of months ago, he delivered a lecture in honour of Donald Baverstock, a legendary controller of BBC television.
It’s well worth reading in full, but this section will suffice for now. Not least for its devolutionary vigour, and spooky prescience:
If you look at the sad plight of ITV today, and recall its confident beginnings, itsOkay, so ITV has landed Michael, not Lew, Grade - but close, and a cigar.
seems to me that ITV’s mistake, around 2000, when faced with the tidal wave of digital competition, was to misunderstand where its residual power lay. Its sense of its public self, equal in stature to that of the BBC, was in fact its greatest asset.
As late as the 1990s, News at Ten was better than BBC News, ITV drama more adventurous, ITV Arts scheduled earlier in the evening than the Arts on BBC 1, ITV ran authored documentaries with equal impact. But, in facing the frightening competition of multi channel television, ITV chose deliberately to disavow its public inheritance, not to modernise it. In doing so, it diminished itself in the public’s imagination and in public esteem.
ITV did need to create a single brand, but I think it made a strategic mistake in seeing its regional identities across Britain as a problem not an opportunity. Think now what an unrivalled asset those old ITV local loyalties would have been in the online world where success depends on building up a close identity with one’s users. The ITV regional brands would have created extraordinarily powerful portals driving viewers through the TV screen to online networks targeting different communities of interest in Yorkshire, Granadaland, Tyne Tees, and across England. Local advertising revenues online would have replaced lost television advertising. …
Is it too late for ITV as a whole to recover its public stature? I don’t think it need be but I don’t think it wants to. Its public impact, as authentic as the BBC’s, used always to be its greatest asset, and one no new rival can hope to supplant. The modernisation of those values is a task which Lew Grade and Sidney Bernstein would once have relished to take on.
November 25, 2006
Footlights highlight
Ahh… the days when revues had funny songs and everything:
First person to say, “Don’t they all look so young”, must shut their ears in the oven.
First person to say, “Don’t they all look so young”, must shut their ears in the oven.
A racing cert
Coming up tonight on UKTV Gold at 10pm: Only Fools and Horses Greatest Moments - “To celebrate 25 years of Britain’s most beloved sitcom, its creator, John Sullivan, has selected 40 moments from the show. Viewers are encouraged to vote for their favourite, which will be revealed in a Top 40 rundown in December.”
Hmmm, well I don’t want to spoil the moment, but I think we all know Del Boy falling through the bar will be number one.
Hmmm, well I don’t want to spoil the moment, but I think we all know Del Boy falling through the bar will be number one.
November 14, 2006
The final Countdown
I guess it's possible I mis-heard... But is it true that Desert Orchid has just been named the new host of Channel 4's Countdown?
(Could have been more implausible, I s'pose.)
(Could have been more implausible, I s'pose.)
October 11, 2006
Good telly: too important to leave to the BBC
What is the Lib Dems’ policy on the BBC? asks Martin Hoscik in a stimulating article on Lib Dem Voice. My answer: unthinking, conservative and wrong.
Let’s start with some liberal first principles: freedom of the individual, the democratic accountability of public institutions, and the merits of free and fair market competition in raising standards.
Which is why I am baffled by our party’s approach to public service broadcasting, with the Lib Dems passionately defending a state-run megalith, answerable only to a quango, immune from the rigours of the bottom line, and funded by a regressive poll tax.
Martin’s article explodes the myth, favoured by the Lib Dems’ culture spokesman Don Foster, that good telly is created by better regulation. However, his article perpetuates the myth that good telly has been created by the licence fee. That was not, and is not, the case.
The good telly, for which Britain is still famed, is the product of competition between the BBC, ITV and Channel 4. ITV was founded in the 1950s precisely because it was recognised the danger of having a monopoly supplier of public service broadcasting. Similarly, the complacent duopoly of the BBC and ITV was broken up in the 1980s by the arrival of Channel 4, with its explicit 'minorities' remit.
Think of great drama - Brideshead Revisited, Inspector Morse, GBH - ground-breaking documentaries - 7-Up, Death on the Rock, Dispatches - cutting-edge comedy - Brass Eye, Spitting Image, Smack The Pony: all the product of commercial television. To argue that only the BBC can be entrusted to make great telly is to do a real injustice to the generations of independent producers who have helped shape our popular culture.
Yet those telly programmes are the product of a different age, an era when terrestrial channels were all there was, and when telly was the major past-time of the nation. Neither assumption now holds true.
Digital television has vastly expanded the choice available. Much of it may be what we would call ‘rubbish’ (code for ‘telly we don’t like or watch’): a lot of it isn’t. Around the world there is far more good telly being made than ever before - the vast majority of it without any state funding.
The old telly economy, which created those gems each of us fondly remembers, is dead. And yet the new economy which is emerging threatens to turn back the clock 50 years, with the BBC once again the dominant, effectively monopolistic, supplier of public service broadcasting. As advertising diminishes in line with audience share, the commercial channels have begun to chase ratings more ruthlessly than in the past: there are going to be more X-Factors, fewer South Bank Shows in the future.
The Lib Dem response to this appears to be to put all our eggs in the BBC basket: trust in the licence fee-engorged Auntie, and all will be well. It won’t be. First, because monopolies - whether public or private - are bad for the consumer, growing lazy, complacent and detached. (Yes, there are exceptions, ‘natural monopolies’ - telly isn’t one of them.)
Secondly, because the BBC is itself declining in popularity - one-fifth of 18-34 year-olds don’t tune into any BBC station in any given week. The BBC is enormously good value if you watch or listen to it regularly: it’s a rip-off if you don’t. The universal reach which justified the licence fee is soon going to become a distant memory.
And, of course, internet television is breaking through, whether in the form of YouTube or 18 Doughty Street. As close to a perfect market as you can imagine, such technology will increasingly make a mockery of the idea that you can only watch telly if you’ve paid the government a flat fee each year.
The market for telly has been transformed in the past decade. It will be even more unrecognisable in another decade’s time. And yet, perversely, the Lib Dems are attempting to hold a line on the licence fee, pretending not only that its existence will guarantee good telly, but also that it will remain politically possible. We would be better off thinking through what the broadcasting landscape will look like - and how we would wish to see it look - once the licence fee comes to an end.
This party is sometimes accused - by critics from within and without - of being little more than a glorified think-tank. Yet it’s the opposite that tends to be the case: far too often the Lib Dems are afraid to challenge received orthodoxy in how public services can best be delivered, preferring instead to stick to the trite-and-tested trick of accusing other parties of legislating or spending too much or too little (delete according to taste).
So dazzling is the broadcasting future in front of us that we seem to prefer to contemplate it facing backwards.
Let’s start with some liberal first principles: freedom of the individual, the democratic accountability of public institutions, and the merits of free and fair market competition in raising standards.
Which is why I am baffled by our party’s approach to public service broadcasting, with the Lib Dems passionately defending a state-run megalith, answerable only to a quango, immune from the rigours of the bottom line, and funded by a regressive poll tax.
Martin’s article explodes the myth, favoured by the Lib Dems’ culture spokesman Don Foster, that good telly is created by better regulation. However, his article perpetuates the myth that good telly has been created by the licence fee. That was not, and is not, the case.
The good telly, for which Britain is still famed, is the product of competition between the BBC, ITV and Channel 4. ITV was founded in the 1950s precisely because it was recognised the danger of having a monopoly supplier of public service broadcasting. Similarly, the complacent duopoly of the BBC and ITV was broken up in the 1980s by the arrival of Channel 4, with its explicit 'minorities' remit.
Think of great drama - Brideshead Revisited, Inspector Morse, GBH - ground-breaking documentaries - 7-Up, Death on the Rock, Dispatches - cutting-edge comedy - Brass Eye, Spitting Image, Smack The Pony: all the product of commercial television. To argue that only the BBC can be entrusted to make great telly is to do a real injustice to the generations of independent producers who have helped shape our popular culture.
Yet those telly programmes are the product of a different age, an era when terrestrial channels were all there was, and when telly was the major past-time of the nation. Neither assumption now holds true.
Digital television has vastly expanded the choice available. Much of it may be what we would call ‘rubbish’ (code for ‘telly we don’t like or watch’): a lot of it isn’t. Around the world there is far more good telly being made than ever before - the vast majority of it without any state funding.
The old telly economy, which created those gems each of us fondly remembers, is dead. And yet the new economy which is emerging threatens to turn back the clock 50 years, with the BBC once again the dominant, effectively monopolistic, supplier of public service broadcasting. As advertising diminishes in line with audience share, the commercial channels have begun to chase ratings more ruthlessly than in the past: there are going to be more X-Factors, fewer South Bank Shows in the future.
The Lib Dem response to this appears to be to put all our eggs in the BBC basket: trust in the licence fee-engorged Auntie, and all will be well. It won’t be. First, because monopolies - whether public or private - are bad for the consumer, growing lazy, complacent and detached. (Yes, there are exceptions, ‘natural monopolies’ - telly isn’t one of them.)
Secondly, because the BBC is itself declining in popularity - one-fifth of 18-34 year-olds don’t tune into any BBC station in any given week. The BBC is enormously good value if you watch or listen to it regularly: it’s a rip-off if you don’t. The universal reach which justified the licence fee is soon going to become a distant memory.
And, of course, internet television is breaking through, whether in the form of YouTube or 18 Doughty Street. As close to a perfect market as you can imagine, such technology will increasingly make a mockery of the idea that you can only watch telly if you’ve paid the government a flat fee each year.
The market for telly has been transformed in the past decade. It will be even more unrecognisable in another decade’s time. And yet, perversely, the Lib Dems are attempting to hold a line on the licence fee, pretending not only that its existence will guarantee good telly, but also that it will remain politically possible. We would be better off thinking through what the broadcasting landscape will look like - and how we would wish to see it look - once the licence fee comes to an end.
This party is sometimes accused - by critics from within and without - of being little more than a glorified think-tank. Yet it’s the opposite that tends to be the case: far too often the Lib Dems are afraid to challenge received orthodoxy in how public services can best be delivered, preferring instead to stick to the trite-and-tested trick of accusing other parties of legislating or spending too much or too little (delete according to taste).
So dazzling is the broadcasting future in front of us that we seem to prefer to contemplate it facing backwards.
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