Cocktails and Records

I don’t usually believe in the concept of Guilty Pleasures. I don’t hide my Bros 7”s; I freely admit to liking The Steve Miller Band; I wear my love of pop trash on my sleeve. When it comes to TV though, it is with a large amount of shame that I admit my fondness for a particular Friday night programme.

It is an unchanging formula with the same boring old story every week.
It is hosted by two perma-smiling fools.
It is, in these times of economic austerity and environmental concern, a completely vile concept.
It is the most strangely unpatriotic programme I’ve ever seen.
It is A Place in the Sun.

Each week a couple face the challenging decision of whether to stay in miserable, expensive, rip-off old Blighty with UK host Johnny (always wearing a jumper) or whether to move to a  fun-filled land of sun, endless cheap properties, sun, amazing views round every corner and even more sun in ‘the rest of Europe’ with Jasmine (always wearing a frock and a tan).

And inevitably every week the couple reject the mother country and up-sticks to ‘the rest of Europe’.

No matter how great a job Johnny does finding them a lovely (and within-budget house) in a quiet corner of rural Wales or a trendy pad in central Manchester, Jasmine always wins the couple over with the promise of an exotic lifestyle in sticksville, Slovenia.

The best thing is that A Place in the Sun studiously avoids any mention of any practical considerations whatsoever other than the all important house prices. Can Maria and Steve, looking for that exciting new life in Spain, speak Spanish? Will they miss the families and friends they’ve left behind? What are they actually going to do in that lovely picturesque village in France? Oh yes, run a gite with all that experience they gained from being a jewellery maker and a tree surgeon in real life.

Each show, I hold on with (not very) baited breath, just waiting for someone to choose the UK, for someone to realise that there is more to life than weather, cheap property prices and even cheaper dreams, and that Britain really isn’t that bad. And they never do.

But amongst all those inward looking ‘aren’t we great’ programmes like Coast, The Seven Ages of Britain, any show hosted by David Dimbleby or Alan Titchmarsh etc., A Place in the Sun does stand unique as the most unpatriotic show on the box. I don’t know how it got through.

Forgive me folks, for I am about to slag off Sir David Attenborough.

Now firstly I have to say that I like David Attenborough a lot. I grew up with his TV shows and I own (and regularly watch!) the DVD series of some of them, I’ve enjoyed his autobiography and I’m currently loving Life Stories on Radio 4. However, Sir David’s contributions to his more recent natural history programmes have been letting him down.

The problem for me is that they don’t actually tell you very much. Take the first episode in the BBCs latest blockbuster contribution to natural history, Life, which I watched last night. It was a string of beautifully shot sequences illustrating the challenges to life in the natural world and how living creatures innovate and evolve to get over them.

And that was it. A string of beautifully shot sequences.

Look at the piece about the capuchin monkey in Brazil, a species which uses rocks as a tool to smash nuts for food. To say this is sophisticated behaviour is an understatement, this is amazing! So what do else do we learn about the capuchin monkey? Nothing. As I watched the footage my mind was flooded with questions – What other species of do this? When, how and why did these particular monkeys evolve this talent? Have people always known about it or is it a recent discovery? But we don’t find out. Sir David sticks to describing what’s on screen, only pointing out that it takes 8 years for a young monkey to master the skill. Maybe scientists don’t know much more than this (although I doubt this somehow), but surely there is more to say?

For me, this is the crux of the problem. David Attenborough is a superb narrator (indeed), but he is no longer explaining anything, merely describing a procession of pretty pictures.

And what pretty pictures they are. Life and its recent and equally disappointing predecessor Planet Earth, were beautifully and artfully shot. The  talent, dedication, patience  and technical innovation of the BBC Natural History Unit’s film crews is undeniable. And lest we forget that, there’s 10 minutes tacked on the end devoted to bigging them up. But I don’t care how amazing the film sequences are if they’re nothing more than the natural history equivalent of the money shot.

The one thing that elevates these two series (so far) to a more sophisticated form of natural history porn is the music. Not only is it another merchandising opportunity (yes, you can buy the soundtracks to The Blue Planet and Planet Earth) but, I say joylessly, it also serves to reinforce tiresome stereotypes about animals.  So we hear eerie, creepy music for the weirdo stalk-eyed fly and a jolly uptempo number to accompany the cute baby monkeys playing. It’s like the score to Bambi, but worse because this is the BBC’s science programming, not a Disney animation.

For me, the combined results of all this is that David Attenborough’s decades of hard won knowledge has gone out the window. He is letting the (pretty) pictures do more and more wowing and the music more and more emotionalising. So much so there’s not much room left for all the science and research that got us to those photo opportunities in the first place. Pity.*

Sorry, just had to get that off my chest.

*Unless the aim of BBC programming is to direct you to Wikipedia that is.

Haven’t the lovely twin worlds of PR and the media been working particularly well this week?

1. Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall versus Tesco. If you watched Chickens, Hugh & Tesco Too on Channel 4 on Monday or have generally been following the saga of ‘celebrity chef’ Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall and his campaign to improve the welfare of battery chickens over the past year you will have noticed that Tesco hasn’t exactly been taking him very seriously. They are generally obstructive, fail to return phone calls, refuse interviews and when they concede to speak to Hugh, they put forward the type of media spokesperson who gives PR an even worse name than it already has. Although you’ve got to admire Tesco for not bowing down to the whims of celebrities (unlike, say, the government and its love-in with Jamie Oliver) this has to have been a bit of a PR disaster for them. By thinking that they above having to answer to annoying TV programmes, Tesco are missing the fact that in these days of subjective, lobbying mission TV, people think that they should. They will pay for their arrogance. Hopefully.
2. The BBC versus the Disasters Emergency Committee (DEC). The BBC are sticking to the notion of journalistic objectivity by refusing to promote the appeal for the crisis in Gaza. Regardless of whether they are right or not, they are indirectly doing a fabulous promotional job for the DEC -the BBCs refusal to promote the appeal is itself promoted in every second news bulletin across the country. This sort of media coverage is surely something the DEC can only usually dream of…   

I read in today’s Guardian that their exclusive poll (aren’t they all?) reveals that 47% of respondents disagree that the BBC license fee is good value for money.

Are these people the biggest bunch of cheapskates ever?
And what the heck do they think is good value for money?

The license fee presently costs £139.50  a year. For that you get ten ‘interactive’ TV channels, a plethora of radio stations and a pretty damn good internet service – all without ads. Granted, there is some absolute tosh on the BBC which I do resent paying for, but there is also some great stuff as well and, as an entertainment / information / learning resource, I think that the BBC does pretty well.

To put it into perspective, £139.50 (at London prices) gets you approximately one of the following:

1. 50 pints and min. 25 evenings of pub politics
2. 18 mid-priced CDs
3. 5 trips to see a typical band or comedy act at a typical mid-capacity venue
4. 18 trips to the movies
5. 116 chip butties
6. entry to 12 ‘blockbuster’ exhibitions at the British Museum, Natural History Museum or V&A
7. 3 quarters of a typical 12 week language course

OR

a whole year of all of:

1. the Today programme
2. Gideon Coe, Gilles Peterson, Steve Lamacq, Tony Blackburn, Stuart Maconie and Mark Radcliffe
3. Later… and Just a Minute
4. Mark Kermode’s film reviews and repeats of the proper Batman on BBC4
5. Masterchef and the Food Programme
6. Simon Scharma, David Starkey, David Attenborough and Melvyn Bragg
7. excellent online language learning support materials

But then again I live in London so, according to the survey, I would say that.

Ah, the Beijing Olympics are finally upon us. And considering my attitude to the Games (glorified sports day for weirdo sports) I’m taken back by how interested I am in the damn things this year… I think it’s the political side of things, the fact that China is considerably more interesting/contentious than Athens, Sydney or Atlanta could ever be. I am just dying to know how it will go and whether China will emerge from the end of Olympic juggernaut with the kudos it so desperately longs for.

What has really struck me so far is the complete lack of buzz in the UK about the core element of the Olympics – sport. There is little mention of sport, the hype is all around pollution and politics.

This is best exemplified by the fact that major news outlets (BBC news, Newsnight, Channel 4 news etc.) have had teams of reporters in Beijing all week updating us on protests, human rights, Tibet, censorship, pollution etc. but there is only minimal sports coverage planned for prime time. We get one hour of highlights each evening at 7pm on BBC1. They aren’t even showing a complete replay of the opening ceremony, the most expensive and most fretted about opening ceremony of all time.

In Australia, the Games would be clogging up the airwaves all night, every night across two channels. There would be no escape from relentless analysis about the swimming team’s swimsuits and the weightlifting team’s weight. But here, no one seems to particularly care.

God, I love this country.*

 
* Except when its airwaves are clogged with up European football tournaments that England and Scotland haven’t even qualified for.

Lab Rats, BBC2

Thirty minutes of this show about a university science lab confirmed it to be one of the dodgiest sitcoms I have ever seen. Perhaps even worse than My Two Dads. It offers no insight whatsoever into the world of tertiary education or science, other than that ’science types’ make lame jokes about having ‘gay hair’. How can someone like Chris Addison go from one of the best sitcoms (The Thick of It) to one of the worst quite so quickly?

Summer Heights High, BBC3

Thirty minutes of this show confirmed it as one of the best Australian comedies since, well, writer and star Chris Lilley’s last series – We can be Heroes. His satire of school life reminds me exactly why school days were not the best days of my life, but still makes me laugh. Why is this show buried on BBC3? I guess Australian comedy is just too niche.

Thanks to a pretty bad head cold, I’ve found myself snivelling away in front of daytime TV recently. I find daytime television absolutely fascinating – what it says about a country or, probably more to the point, what it says about what TV executives think about a country never ceases to astound me.

Quick lessons from daytime television:

1. Making money is easy (Trash to Cash, Cash in the Attic)

   Need money? Simple. Just flog off your great, great grandma’s teapot that’s cluttering up the sideboard and that holiday in Spain can be yours. Family heirlooms?! Pah!

2. Anyone can be an antiques dealer (Bargain Hunt, Dickinson’s Real Deal, Sun, Sea and Bargains)

   Could this be the only country in the world where making money out of buying and selling antiques (even if it’s only for a £5 profit) can be turned into a competitive game show?

3. Everyone else’s house is nicer than yours and look how much it cost them! (Homes under the Hammer, To Buy or Not to Buy, A Place in the Sun, Escape to the Country)

   These shows are probably aimed at our innate voyeurism, but I suspect that they also play their own small part in pushing up property prices and buyer/seller expectations. Afterall, absolutely everyone wants to (and can afford to providing they sell enough of their attic clutter in Trash to Cash) live in a 5 bedroom house with 4 bathrooms, 3 car garage, aga, huge cottage garden and heated swimming pool with superb sea/countryside views, which is all just down the road from the worlds best pub.  

For reasons still only known to them, my parents hardly ever let me watch TV when I was a small child. However, despite their aversion to nasty American cartoons I was still allowed to watch Sesame Street. Thank God – how I loved Sesame Street!

It didn’t bother me that Cookie Monster encouraged gluttony and binge eating of sugary snacks, that Super Grover’s stunts defied health and safety regulations or that some people thought that Ernie and Bert living together was a tad suspect. No, I loved the diverse mix of people and muppets who populated the show and attempted to teach me about ‘co-operation’ and ’sharing’.

But for me, the best thing about Sesame Street was the music. Disguising education in the form of a funky tune worked a treat on me, and some have stayed with me forever. Here are two of my favourites.

‘Days of the Week’ from My Name is Roosevelt Franklin, 1971/1974

I’ve had this LP in my collection for as long as I can remember and it is still one of the funkiest records I own. Roosevelt Franklin was one of the few Black American muppets on Sesame Street between 1970 and 1975, but was apparently dumped for being too feisty/naughty and setting a bad example to children. Here though, he sets a good example by singing about, um, the days of the week: ‘I go to school five days a week, ‘cos I get five times smarter that way’.

‘Days of the Week’ from My Name is Roosevelt Franklin (2.56 MB)

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‘Pinball Number Count’, around 1976/77

This supremely funky tune was recorded especially by the Pointer Sisters to accompany a scarily pychedelic animation. For more (lots more) info check the muppet wiki.

The Guardian online is asking all the tough questions today. Namely, ‘Why didn’t American sit-com Seinfeld ever take off in the UK?’

Good question. I’ve been wondering this since I first came to the UK nearly 9 years ago, and discovered that the series that I was addicted to in Australia was virtually unknown in this country. 

Britain has produced some fabulous sit-coms over the years – Blackadder, Fawlty Towers, The Office, Father Ted  (ok, Graham Lineham is Irish, but still), Porridge, Dad’s Army, The Thick of It, Man about the House (soley for having one of the best sit-com theme tunes ever), I’m Alan Partridge, Peepshow etc. etc. – but yet the sheer brilliance of Seinfeld, not to mention Arrested Development, Curb your Enthusiasm, The Larry Sanders Show and Family Ties (ha!) seems to have passed too many people by. 

OK, as the article points out many of these shows have been buried in the TV schedules (Arrested Development certainly has been) and constantly shifted around time slots, but surely they would have managed to find an audience somehow?

And do UK audiences really prefer to have continuous story arcs where characters ‘learn something’ as the Guardian suggests? I suspect not. Just imagine what Fawlty Towers or Black Books would be like if the characters ‘learnt something’ and ‘developed as people’?

It seems that The Guardian doesn’t know the answer and neither do I. All I can say is: don’t watch boring old tripe like Sex in the City and Friends, watch Seinfeld, it’s one of the best TV shows of all time.

‘Festivus’ highlights from ‘The Strike’, Seinfeld, season 9, 1997

I am currently reading the Chinese literary classic from the 16th century, Journey to the West, by Wu Ch’eng-en. The book is probably better known to people of a certain age in the form of 70s Japanese TV show Monkey which, along with The Goodies, seemed to be on constant rotation on the ABC (Australian Broadcasting Corporation) throughout the late 70s/ 80s.

A side effect of reading the book is that my head is constantly plagued by the deliriously catchy, funky theme tune. So I thought I’d share the joy (and the requisite Monkey wisdom – “But the phoenix can fly only when its feathers are grown”) with you.