Visions Of The Future, from 1960s Television

 I recently watched some episodes of the television series created by Gerry Anderson and his colleagues. These programmes were Thunderbirds, Captain Scarlet and The Mysterons, and Joe 90.

Back in the day Anderson and his team were lauded for their vision of a future which seemed optimistic and quite progressive, envisaging a prosperous, technologically advanced and comparatively harmonious world. Just how accurate and perceptive were these "predictions" and imaginings, and how desirable would those outcomes really be?

The above mentioned programmes were all set in "the future", in the case of Joe 90 roughly our own epoch (the 2010s), and the other two were apparently meant to have taken place in the 2050s or 2060s.

It is clear to me that the shows in question were produced against the backdrop of 1960s optimism and idealism and, some might say, naivete. It could be that the visions contained in the episodes represented a mixture of what the makers anticipated would transpire, and what they hoped for.

In broad terms, the programmes seem to envisage some form of "federal" global structure, with world government agencies and functions, and much emphasis on international co-operation. The main threats are perceived to emanate from rogue (smaller?) nations, potent criminal elements and corrupt business interests. It is curious to think in those terms, as I type this in the Summer of 2022....

The expectation appears to be that large corporations will still exist, and that they will wield considerable power and influence. My interpretation, for what it is worth, is that Anderson and Co. were predicting that, on balance, corporations would be a benevolent force, fulfilling a "progressive" role in society. The current evidence would suggest that the reality will be more mixed and ambiguous, to say the least. 

To me it is noteworthy that environmental and ecological issues are touched on relatively infrequently by these 1960s creations. Nuclear power and fossil fuels are shown as still being quite pervasive, although there is some mention of innovations in the fields of renewable and alternative energy sources. 

As we now know, the importance of green considerations will likely precipitate changes in social and economic conditions far beyond what these creative people from the Sixties expected. This might be explained in part by the fact that the ecology movement was comparatively under-developed and basic in the 1960s, and did not really gather momentum until the decade which followed. In one Thunderbirds episode, scientists are seen trying to discover new ways of boosting livestock and the world's supply of meat!  Clearly knowledge of such topics, and their impact on the planet, was quite unsophisticated, even limited, back then.

When the series in question are discussed, it is often stated that they imagined a "utopian" future. However, looking critically at the economic and social structures which were portrayed, genuinely profound change is not evident. Rather than being "utopian", I see their outlook as progressive-liberal, and certainly not radical in terms of the way that life was expected to develop or evolve.

The attitudes exuded by the characters and people in the stories do not signal any major shift in attitudes, values or beliefs, no big "Enlightenment 2.0". Selfishness, greed and ignorance are still shown as existing, but the Anderson view of human nature seems to be optimistic. The link between socio-economic changes and shifting attitudes may be instructive, in that the extent of the former could be dependent on the magnitude of the latter. Little suggestion, of course, that man-made laws might corrupt people or instil harmful habits or ideas.

I must say that I rather like the future architectural and design trends postulated in these productions. They are in accord with my own "modernist" tastes and inclinations. Maybe these patterns were conceived in the light of things which were around in the 1960s, but which were seen then as futuristic and cutting-edge?

The issue of social stratification, and the class system, is one area of these Anderson programmes which seemed to conflict mildly with other anticipated societal developments. The programmes appear to depict, certainly in Britain and even elsewhere, a society where class distinctions are still very much entrenched and palpable.

One area of the thought-world of those productions, especially Thunderbirds, which intrigues me is the "military" involvement and influence in "civilian" affairs and sectors. People of a military bearing, and sporting military-type uniforms, are seen fulfilling functions which these days we would hope and expect to be carried out by more technically-orientated people. 

It seems that the producers saw the future as being an arena of technological progress, but not necessarily as a prodigious driver of social transformation or deep-rooted human emancipation; just making life "easier", but just as hectic and bewildering. In other words, alienation and social exclusion would remain as ills, insidious trends inhibiting change in some areas.

The balance of economic relations and power, and the centralization of power, would likely remain unchanged. Progress? That depends upon how you define and quantify "progress". There has to be at least a gesture towards something more meaningful and far-reaching.

Gerry Anderson's world of the future may indeed be the one which comes to pass, given the current balance of forces, prevailing "wisdom" and policies. We should bear in mind, though, that we as citizens of the world have it within our power to change this state of affairs, at least in theory. Personally, I hope that at least pointers to something more radical are evident by the forthcoming decades in question. 

One area where the 1960s creators underestimated the likely scale of development was in the areas of "information technology" and communications. There is little suggestion (to my eyes and ears) of anything resembling what became the internet, although they did admittedly foresee some other leaps and advances.

Despite nurturing a hopeful verdict on human nature, some of the "villains" and antagonists in Anderson programmes appear to presage that egomania and megalomania would continue to pose problems and present obstacles for genuine progress and tranquility, and lead to some grief and suffering for "mere mortals". This is in addition to pride, intransigence, arrogance and narrow-mindedness. Sadly, they were probably right in expecting this to be the case. Changes in attitudes would be needed to militate against this, and such changes could be accelerated by reforms to socio-economic systems.

Above all, I think that the only partial accuracy of the predictions amply demonstrates just how quickly and profoundly our world can change in short stretches of time, thus confounding the experts and the futurologists. No doubt if I am around to write a similar article to this in 2050, I will have to revise several of my judgments on the forecasts of the makers of those television shows.

 

Lenin.....The Train (1988 TV movie)

Lenin.....The Train is a TV movie from 1988, which chronicles the railway journey made by Lenin and his associates from Switzerland,via Germany, to Petrograd, in the run-up to the October Revolution. Ben Kingsley stars as the Russian revolutionary.

The film begins with a look at the tortuous negotiations between Lenin's people and the German authorities, the Germans being anxious to help Lenin with his revolutionary programme, as a means of getting Russia out of the First World War. Of course, negotiations also took place between the various Russian factions.

In some respects this is your typical TV-movie fare, but the gravitas and the general quality are elevated somewhat by the standard of the acting, Timothy West standing out in this regard. Initially, my opinion was that Ben Kingsley should have adopted a Russian accent, and that this was necessary to imbue the picture with authenticity. However, by the end I had concluded that this was no major issue, as Kingsley's mannerisms and gestures are very consistent and believable, and convey a distinct persona.

I feel that the movie portrays Lenin as the voice of reason and moderation, his sole objective being to instigate and foment the Revolution. To him, hotheads and indiscretions posed a threat to the prospects for the entire enterprise. Lenin knew that some emotions had to be suppressed, so as not to endanger the quest for the main prize. A plus point is that this film depicts the Bolsheviks as reasonably normal people, not as overly fanatical, belligerent or obsessive.

This movie contains repeated reminders of the futility and injustice of the war. When one looks at the tasks which the troops on all sides were being asked to undertake, it is a wonder that revolutions did not break out in all of the combatant nations. Whatever one thinks of the Bolsheviks, there is a case for arguing that they did the world a favour, by forcing the "democracies" to adopt more enlightened policies and attitudes. The soldiers and the masses had been acquainted with potent new ideas, and their co-operation and deference could no longer be taken for granted.

The picture concludes with the arrival of Lenin's train in Petrograd, an the film-makers thereby cleverly avoided having to cover the October Revolution itself.

Lenin.....The Train is surprisingly good and "learned" for a made-for-TV production The acting clearly lifts it, as does a sensitive and balanced exploration of many of the crucial issues.

The Sweeney (television series)

When I was very young, there were certain television programmes which retained a mystique, usually because I was never, or rarely, permitted to watch such programmes by my parents!  One of these shows was The Sweeney, the highly influential and acclaimed Seventies crime-drama series.

As I grew older, I was led to understood that The Sweeney had been "ground-breaking" and "gritty", but I had been unable to judge this for myself.  When the series was first broadcast, a combination of factors meant that I was not able to view the show.  The timeslot when it was shown, parental concern over violent content, and our family's mild anti-ITV snobbery were foremost. Whenever any discussion turned to the show, I felt somehow left out.

It was not until the recent past that I was able to watch The Sweeney in any concerted form. It was a revelation to me, although from a 21st century perspective it doesn't seem as innovative or as edgy as it must have done circa 1975/76. And of course some of the attitudes exhibited would not meet the approval of a modern audience.

The series gives a very authentic and honest portrayal of the Seventies in London, and by extension of Britain as a whole during that period of time. An atmosphere of decay and gloom, maybe, but also a sense of community and certainty before technological and socio-economic developments began to change things irrevocably.

The Sweeney follows the adventures of a group of detectives in the Metropolitan Police's Flying Squad. The three main characters are Inspector Jack Regan (John Thaw), Sergeant George Carter (Dennis Waterman) and their boss, Frank Haskins (Garfield Morgan).

Regan is an intriguing and ambiguous character, superbly played by John Thaw. A proponent of unorthodox methods, he seems old-school, but in some ways he might be said to be ahead of his time. He is regularly at odds with his superiors, and even with his subordinates. The writing and the acting combine to make the concept and realisation of Regan very believable and credible, not just as some caricature. A man of contradictions, he appears cynical and jaded, but at the same time seems wholly committed to, and immersed in, his job.

Another key, in my eyes, to the success and appeal of The Sweeney is that it does not over-emphasize or excessively utilize some of the "recurring" themes. For example, Regan and his team are not uniformly at loggerheads with The Powers That Be. Sometimes they find common cause. This measured approach adds authenticity, and prevents the series from becoming stale and predictable.

Dennis Waterman has perhaps not been accorded enough praise or credit for his performance as George Carter. I have always found Waterman likeable in whatever role he happens to be playing, and this series finds him in great, assured form.

The character of Carter perhaps represents the police in a state of flux, incorporating clear elements of the "old school", but also receptive to, and embracing, new methods and tools. Carter often questions Regan's excesses and his outlandish schemes, but is sometimes placated by his "guv'nor"'s self-confidence, his persuasive manner and his track record.

The episode "Hit And Run", in which Carter's wife is killed, provides a fine showcase for Waterman's talents, going way beyond the bravado and machismo for which The Sweeney is, rightly or wrongly, renowned.

It is tempting to see parallels between Jack Regan and Inspector Morse, another detective famously portrayed by John Thaw. An older, cynical, grumpy character, with a penchant for the unorthodox, partnered with a younger, ambitious, more "domesticated" sergeant.

The plaudits extended to The Sweeney are well deserved, but this is not to say that every episode is brilliant. Like other similar television series, it suffered from a lack of continuity and consistency, partly because different episodes had different writers and directors. The ambience and tenor of each story could vary greatly from the next one, with difficulties in maintaining "back story".  Some episodes bordered on comedy - "Thin Ice", "Golden Fleece" and "Messenger Of The Gods" spring to mind. Light relief is all well and good, but not to detract from the mood which is essential to the show.

Few punches were pulled in the depiction of an escalation in the ruthlessness and violence displayed by criminals. I can see how this would have been shocking for the people in the Seventies, raised as they were on a diet of shows featuring gentlemanly, even chivalrous villains, and correspondingly placid and reticent cops. Episodes such as "Taste Of Fear" and " Bait" have the capacity to unsettle and disturb, even after all these years. The rawness set new standards.

The impression emerged that the intricacies of detective work and police procedure had been thoroughly researched, and some things are left unexplained, leaving the viewers to work a few things out for themselves. One eventually gets used to the jargon and slang!

A few episodes did over-reach themselves, and look rather silly today.  One example is "Tomorrow Man", in which John Hurt plays a computer whizz-kid. The word is that Thaw and Waterman grew finally to consider that The Sweeney had run its course. Within the remit of the squad, it was inevitable that genuinely fresh ideas for storylines would dry up eventually. That said, I don't feel that the show went particularly stale or moribund. It ended on a suitably bitter and abrasive note in "Jack or Knave", with Regan feeling highly aggrieved after being investigated for alleged corruption.

Watching The Sweeney is still a rewarding and satisfying experience, sometimes thought-provoking. Dated in some respects, yes, but still quality television.

Superstars (TV series)

One of the staples of my childhood television viewing was the British/European version of the multi-sports competition "Superstars". Just recently I have been revisiting the history and the essence of this programme, and I was reminded what an entertaining, worthwhile and intriguing show it was.

I have vague and misty memories of watching the likes of David Hemery and John Conteh appear on "Superstars" when I was very young, and of course the Kevin Keegan cycling incident from 1976 is almost etched into the collective consciousness of the British nation.

The BBC's "Superstars" coverage was presented by David Vine and Ron Pickering, two of the most capable and likeable sports broadcasters of that era. Vine was authoritative, urbane even, and could paint great pictures with words. Ron Pickering, on the other hand, was enthusiasm personified, and his passion for sport and its benefits always shone through in his contributions.

For the uninitiated, "Superstars" pitted competitors from various different sports against each other in a succession of events, including sprinting, cycling, canoeing, weightlifting and the famous (or infamous) gym tests. Points were awarded according to the positions attained in each event. National series thrived in the USA, Britain and elsewhere, and European, International and World championships took place.

As a boy, the European superstars finals held a particular mystique and pull and, funny though it seems now, a taste of the exotic. Vine and Pickering were very adept at conveying the atmosphere in Rotterdam's Ahoy Stadium, where the European showpiece was stage. Special emphasis was placed on the banked cycling track there. Impressionable as I was, I almost gained the perception that "Superstars" was the most important and prestigious sporting event in the world, perhaps even surpassing the Olympics!

It has become a cliche, but a large part of the charm and appeal of "Superstars" was its propensity to propel comparatively little-known sportspeople into the spotlight, allowing them to exhibit their talents to a wider audience, way beyond the confines of their chosen speciality. Classic examples of this were Kjell Isaksson, the Swedish pole vaulter, Ties Kruize, the Dutch field hockey player, and the British judoka Brian Jacks. These men regularly outshone more famous and renowned athletes in this test of all-round sporting prowess.

I vividly remember the performances of Isaksson, the remarkable little pole vaulter. His feats in weightlifting were staggering from some one of his slight build. He was also formidable in the gym tests (parallel bar drips and squat thrusts).

Of course, Brian Jacks became a national celebrity in Britain in the late Seventies and early Eighties, and appeared to receive far more recognition for his "Superstars" achievements than he did for his accomplishments in the world of judo, which were themselves considerable. Jacks' counterpart on the other side of the Atlantic was the remarkable Canadian soccer player Brian Budd, who notched up three World Superstars titles, not to mention three Canadian titles! Budd was a formidable competitor in most of the events on the schedule, and he was also quite a character.

Another hallmark of the UK version of the show was in allowing older athletes such as Hemery, Lynn Davies and John Sherwood to prolong or extend their careers in the competitive arena. Many who grew up with "Superstars" possibly knew little of their respective careers and feats in track and field athletics.

It is interesting to analyze which sports appeared best suited to supplying successful "Superstars" participants. Pole vaulting provided Bob Seagren, Kjell Isaksson, as well as Brian Hooper, who shone at the tail end of the franchise's golden age in Britain.

What made pole vaulters so ideally suited to the challenge of "Superstars" and its format? I guess it had something to do with agility, "pound-for-pound" strength, speed, all-round athleticism and technical aptitude. This ensured that they were consistently good across most of the disciplines contained in the schedule.

Amongst football (soccer) players, the aforementioned Brian Budd was perhaps the exception which proved the rule. Generally, practitioners of "the beautiful game" seemed to lack the power and the strength to compete for outright honours, although they fared very well in areas such as sprinting - Malcolm McDonald famously broke the eleven-second barrier in the 100 metres in 1975. The extra power and muscle of rugby players (from both codes) appeared to make them more suited to the rigours and the nature of the "Superstars" test.

Were there any flaws in the make-up of the "Superstars" event? To me, the UK version seems to have placed undue emphasis on strength and brawn. More skill-orientated sports, such as racquet games or even something like ten-pin bowling or snooker, might have counter-balanced things in favour of those possessing finesse as well as muscle.

The rules barring or handicapping some competitors in their alleged "specialities" also seemed nonsensical and anomalously applied. Handicapping pole vaulters in sprints and 400-metre hurdlers in a steeplechase?  It made matters unnecessarily complicated and I think that a "swings and roundabouts" argument could be justifiably made here.

Allowing people to "opt out" of some events was also wrong in my opinion. I would have just required everyone to take part in every event. This was supposed to be a test of all-round proficiency, after all. Brian Jacks in the sprints and steeplechase would have been very interesting to watch!

But these are very minor gripes. To me "Superstars" in its prime was emblematic of its time, when the innocence of the era allowed such an enterprise to thrive. A great series!

The Rack Pack (2016 film)

Having recently been immersing myself in appreciation of snooker's "golden age" - from the late 1970s through to the early 1990s - I decided to watch the 2016 film "The Rack Pack", a comedy-drama which is set in that era, focusing primarily on the rivalry between Alex "Hurricane" Higgins and Steve Davis.

The early portion of the movie introduces us to the two main protagonists, capturing and invoking the contrast between the freewheeling maverick Higgins and the more reserved and clean-cut Davis. The "retro" settings and stylings are surprisingly convincing, and there is excellent utilization of classic Seventies rock and pop music (Led Zeppelin, T.Rex, The Who, Thin Lizzy etc).

I must say that I was impressed and drawn in by Luke Treadaway's performance as Alex Higgins. Alright, some might argue that he is too good-looking, and that he doesn't always exude the mercurial shakiness of the character. However, he does nail down much of the famed truculence and swagger, and some of the on-table mannerisms. Kevin Bishop is likeable and entertaining in a somewhat "cartoonish" portrayal of Davis' manager, Barry Hearn.

As is often the case with "biopic" type projects, facts, incidents and anecdotes are packed into a condensed timespan. Any inaccuracies and distortions here will only irritate the anoraks and those intimately cognisant of the true history and chronology. Allowances must be made for the comedy element of this production.

The snooker scenes are very realistic and credible, leaving me wondering whether the actors might have been selected for their roles because they had some modicum of proficiency at the game.

In emphasizing the contrasts in temperament, approach and playing style between the two main players, the film-makers may have slightly over-laboured the supposed "nerdiness" and squareness of the young Steve Davis. This was probably done to entrench the notion that the two men represented polar opposites.

A major sub-plot in "The Rack Pack" is the increasingly corporate and commercial nature of snooker, as orchestrated by Barry Hearn, Higgins' perceived exclusion and alienation from that milieu, and the increasing bitterness and resentment which consequently built up within him. Indeed, though this is ostensibly a work which chronicles and examines the Higgins-Davis dynamic, much of the most vibrant and penetrating dialogue is that between the Higgins and Hearn characters.

The one scene which rather jarred with me was the one featuring a nightclub "altercation" between the Hurricane and Cliff Thorburn. Did anything remotely like this actually happen in reality?  A few things like this were doubtless added for dramatic effect, like they are in many similar pictures, and they didn't really tarnish my overall appreciation of the piece.

Another intriguing sub-text is a depiction of the relationship between Alex Higgins and Jimmy White, the latter gradually inheriting the mantle of "People's Champion" from the former. The narrative seems to imply that White learned from some of the mistakes of his "mentor", being prepared to make minor concessions to pragmatism and conformity in order to fit in with a changing sport and a changing world.

The decline of Higgins is, I would contend, quite deftly, touchingly and sensitively handled in this movie. It dovetailed with one of the central messages of the film, about the "cultural" tensions and the changing of the times.  Alex played a pivotal role in creating and popularizing modern snooker, but found himself being marginalized and left behind as others prospered both on and off the table.

Overall, I found "The Rack Pack" to be an enjoyable and well-produced film. It concentrates mostly on the personalities and the human aspects, rather than the intricacies of snooker itself, and largely succeeds as a result.

The Russians Are Coming - (Only Fools and Horses episode)

Another notable episode from the first series of "Only Fools and Horses" is "The Russians Are Coming", in which the Trotters build their own nuclear fall-out shelter.

The premise of "The Russians Are Coming" is not exactly original, as lots of movies, television shows, comedies and the like were eagerly tapping into unease and paranoia about the Cold War and nuclear weapons in the early and mid-1980s. In the event, this episode contains some of the most affecting observations and passages of any of the show's plot-lines. Their impact and poignancy is perhaps heightened by the humour with which they are surrounded and occasionally clothed.

The plot stems from a business deal concluded by Del, a by-product of which results in him inadvertently "acquiring" an experimental "do it yourself" atomic fall-out shelter. The family decides to assemble it and spend some time living in it, as their own form of emergency planning.

Following an amusing effort to replicate the panic of the four-minute warning, and a simulation of the journey to a prospective location of refuge, the story really takes off when Del, Rodney and Grandad are safely ensconced in the shelter itself. The logistics and practicalities of surviving Armageddon are the source of some good, strong material. The highlight is perhaps Grandad's monologue about the true nature and horrors of war, delivered to chastise and rebuke Del for some of his excessively gung-ho and glib talk on the subject.

Whenever the subject matter threatens to become too serious and heavy, John Sullivan's comedic genius kicks in, and the mood lightens. The "captive" situation in the shelter creates an atmosphere conducive to sharp, taut and rich exchanges, and all three of the actors are on fine form, with great use of lighting to accentuate the intimacy. There is a noticeable absence of filler or padding in the script, and the shelter sequences are indeed very concentrated, fluent and absorbing. A real high point of the early days of OFAH, on more than one level.

Some speculation on the likely social consequences of a nuclear war adds to this episode's resonance and charm. Besides the humorous ruminations on the likely effects of the feared catastrophe, this is an intelligent and finely judged piece of work, addressing a difficult and emotive topic with more simplicity ,honesty and acuity than many more "serious" works arising from that era. It is also highly entertaining and funny.

Go West Young Man (Only Fools and Horses episode)

Following on from my "review" of "Big Brother", let's take a look at the episode which followed it in the first series of "Only Fools and Horses", namely "Go West Young Man".

This episode sees Del (and Rodney) venturing into the second-hand automobile arena, and also looking after Boycie's Jaguar E-Type, with fairly predictable outcomes!

The dialogue in this episode has much more charm to it, and in addition it is delivered more naturally. There is a more confident air generally, with Del's contribution feeling more rounded and convincing. Perhaps the actors were beginning to find their roles? There are a few signs of the Del Boy who we would come to know and love.

The jokes are more vibrant and potent, and the mood more relaxed, possibly because there was less pressure to introduce the characters and the back-story?  It is also true that the plot of "Go West Young Man" offered more possibilities, and was more conducive to a flowing and invigorating slice of situation comedy. 

Here we also witness the writer John Sullivan, and the production team, acquiring the knack for delivering "set-piece" scenes with truly memorable lines. The two night-club scenes in this episode are right up there in the OFAH pantheon, as is Rodney's assertion that he had "never smoked astro-turf".  Some of the most effective humour,as in later episodes, stems from their feeble attempts to impress women.

It is also possible to argue that the inclusion of more locations in this one imbues it with greater verve. The action is not confined to the Trotter flat and The Nag's Head.  The aforementioned sequences in the night-clubs provide a more colourful edge, and help to diminish the "austerity" which characterizes other early episodes of the show.

Boycie is introduced, but the character does not make as deep an impression as he would in, for example, "A Losing Streak", where we are exposed to more of his personality traits. It really needed the appearance of Marlene as a visible presence, and the "tension" which went with this, for Boycie to become a truly prominent and important character.

This episode is not perfect, as it meanders and goes flat a little at times, but it has some impetus and atmosphere of its own.  The magic formula was just on the horizon....

Big Brother (Only Fools and Horses episode)

Recently, I have started re-watching episodes of the great British sitcom "Only Fools and Horses", and thought I would put together some articles on noteworthy or important episodes.

For the uninitiated, "Only Fools And Horses" followed the lives, loves, fortunes and misfortunes of the Trotter family from London. They eke out a living by market-trading and assorted black-market activities, engaging in various "schemes" which they hope will make them into millionaires.  The two main characters are Derek "Del Boy" Trotter (played by David Jason) and his younger brother Rodney (Nicholas Lyndhurst).

Starting from the beginning, let's take a look at the very first episode of the first series, entitled "Big Brother".....

The first thing which I noticed was the state of the characters. Del Boy in particular is nowhere near as rounded and subtle an entity in these early days as he would later become.  Del even displays signs of "sophistication", and there is not always the requisite dose of bathos to balance things out. Traits which would become familiar are under-cooked and undeveloped. There were rough edges to smooth over before the character found its comforting, natural and pleasing equilibrium. The same applies to the character of Trigger. The path to the "polished" characterizations would be uneven.

It is perhaps unsurprising that these early episodes were erratic in quality and atmosphere, as any ambitious brand new concept has to be given time to find its feet and evolve. Even the talents of David Jason and Nicholas Lyndhurst don't always transcend the issues.

The tone in these early days was darker and grittier than the later seasons, and the humour was not as homely. As others have observed, some of the dialogue, and its delivery, seemed forced at times, at odds with the seamlessness, freshness and naturalness which would later become one of the hallmarks of "Only Fools and Horses".

Although the plot of this opening episode ostensibly concerns a batch of "dodgy" briefcases, it is really a vehicle for introducing us to some of the elements of the "situation" in the sitcom, and to the relationship between Del and Rodney in particular. Bits of exposition and back-story are liberally sprinkled amongst the narrative.

"Big Brother" invokes one of the strands which permeates the show through all its incarnations - Rodney's yearning to escape from the shadow of Del, to achieve more independence, in this case by running away. However, Rodney usually ends up returning to "the fold".  By the same token, Del, although on the surface confident and self-reliant, is somehow incomplete and lacking in zest without his brother as his sidekick. Expediency and brotherly love both have a bearing on this.

The "Grandad" character, so beautifully played by Lennard Pearce, hits the ground running, fully formed, more than the other participants, partly because of the nature of the actor's performance, and partly because the Grandad persona was less complicated and intricate.

Making some allowances, this is still quite a weak and unsatisfying episode, not as watchable even as some of the other episodes in the first season, which betray more of the OFAH charm and depth. This is "Only Fools and Horses" in raw, incipient, prototype form.

You would have been hard pressed in 1981 to envisage it achieving classic and culturally iconic status in the UK. It must have seemed like something which might be confined to a cult following or a niche. "Big Brother" is still worth seeing, for curiosity value, and as a measure of just how far John Sullivan and his creation traveled in the years which followed.

Peter Vaughan 1923-2016

It was with great sadness that I today learned of the death of the British actor Peter Vaughan.

He had a varied and distinguished career, but I will always remember him best as "Genial" Harry Grout in the classic 1970s television sitcom Porridge, which was set in a prison.

In Porridge the Harry Grout character was the prison's "Mr. Big", who appeared to control most things which occurred in the institution, and who inspired fear and apprehension in his fellow inmates as well as the staff.

The character only appeared in three episodes of the show, as well as the 1979 movie spin-off, but the impact of Vaughan's portrayal, and the superb writing of Dick Clement and Ian La Frenais, made it seem like he was a permanent fixture.  Vaughan managed to convey an effortless but almost avuncular menace, and his scenes with Norman Stanley Fletcher (played by Ronnie Barker) were particularly memorable and amusing.

Interestingly, Peter Vaughan also appeared in an excellent episode (entitled "Stay Lucky Eh?") of the groundbreaking crime show The Sweeney, playing a character not totally dissimilar to Harry Grout, with the difference that he was "on the outside".

However, the Harry Grout character remains as one of the most enduring and fascinating in British sitcoms, and as an illustration of Peter Vaughan's talents.

Formula 1 on Channel 4

Earlier today it was announced that UK terrestrial television coverage of Formula 1 racing will be taken over by Channel 4 in 2016, as they assume the role previously performed by the BBC. Under the three-year deal, 10 races per season will be broadcast live.

The reaction to this news among British F1 followers appears to have been mixed, but I am more sanguine than most about the announcement. It has been confirmed that under the new agreement there will be no advertisement breaks during the actual races to be shown live on Channel 4.  The ad breaks were a bugbear of some fans when the sport was previously shown on commercial terrestrial TV (ITV) in the UK.

I have generally quite enjoyed Channel 4's coverage of sports, a good example being their presentation of Test Match cricket a few years back. They have a reputation for doing things slightly differently in comparison to other British broadcasters, so with luck this ethos will help to ensure that their Formula 1 coverage introduces some innovations and a fresh approach.

Much will depend on the personnel recruited to act as presenters, commentators and pundits on Channel 4's show. My ideal scenario would be for some of those on the previous BBC team to be involved, with a few fresh faces to spice things up.

It is good that F1 will remain on terrestrial TV in Britain. Interesting times ahead....

The Likely Lads (1976) - movie review

In the 1970s and early 1980s there were lots of cinematic spin-offs from British television sitcoms, and the artistic quality of these projects was variable to say the least. One of the better of these spin-offs was "The Likely Lads" from 1976, starring Rodney Bewes as Bob Ferris and James Bolam as Terry Collier.

The original "Likely Lads" TV series from the 1960s followed the fortunes of Bob and Terry as young men, and the follow-up "Whatever Happened To The Likely Lads" picked up the story when they had reached the brink of their thirties, at the time of Terry's return from a stint in the Army.

This film appears to be set a couple of years after the end of the timescale of "Whatever Happened To The Likely Lads", with Bob going through some kind of emotional, existential crisis. Indeed, the central themes of the movie are "there must be more to life than this" and "where has the past gone?", universally understood sentiments which engage the viewer. Times change, but our own routine becomes and remains tedious, and we ask whether the grass is greener elsewhere.

Even more so than the second television series, this film screams "Seventies!", from the fashions, to the backdrops, to the cultural references and the social mores. Added to this are Bob's Vauxhall Chevette, the boutique and the predilection for caravanning!

As ever, the writing of Dick Clement and Ian La Frenais drives proceedings charmingly. The storyline is a good, solid one, with a nicely conceived ending which inverts the conclusion of the original 60s series. The writers specialized in extracting great comedy from mundane, everyday things, and the eccentricities of the tenets of English life. The script of this film, to me, celebrates nostalgia whilst at the same time hinting that there is no easy escape from the pressures of the present. The grass is not necessarily greener, and we sometimes envy the lifestyles of our peers whilst overlooking the pitfalls of those lifestyles and the virtues of our own hard-won stability and security...

One thing which does not feature that prominently in this movie is the tension between Bob and Terry's relative social aspirations, an angle which dominated parts of the 1970s TV series. The emphasis here is on more elusive emotional and spiritual concerns. That said, the characterizations are still endearing and natural.

Rodney Bewes does a fine job in this film of portraying the angst-ridden and preoccupied Bob. The character has moved on from the "upwardly mobile" persona which he exuded during the second TV show. His life has reached a disconcerting and bewildering plateau.

The settings are different from "Whatever Happened To...", but I see this as a strength, as it helps to endow the movie with an identity of its own. The pleasant location shots of the North East England countryside and coastline also contribute to an overall visual appeal, and the "Whitley Bay" sequences are truly evocative!

There are some fine individual scenes, most notably the first one in the boutique, which kick-starts the central portion of the movie. As ever, the most effective comedic exchanges between Bob and Terry are tinged with poignancy and sadness, such as the conversation on the ship near the end.

To my present-day self, the overall effect of this picture is to induce sorrow and regret at a period gone forever, when life was simpler, or so we like to believe. It was released during my childhood, and the imagery brings back fond memories. This kind of nostalgia leavens the sterility and uncertainty of the present.

Opinion of this film among critics has been mixed, but I really like it. It has charm as a period piece, quite apart from the richness of the writing, the humour and the acting. Fine entertainment, and rather heart-warming...

National Media Museum, Bradford

Further to my recent post about the Jorvik Viking Centre in York, I have now also visited the National Media Museum in Bradford.

Admission to the National Media Museum is free, although donations are welcomed. Being ever happy to help support museums, I gave the suggested amount of £3. The museum is divided into various "floors" or levels, each area devoted to a particular topic or category - photography, cinema, television, the internet, gaming and even animation.

The building is well-appointed and quite modern, but it has a pleasant ambience. One of my predominant impressions was how much content and information they have managed to pack into the space available. There is an impressive volume of exhibits and "artefacts", which are amply complemented by the multimedia elements. The written displays are concise, but informative and helpful.

I was most impressed with the section which deals with photography. There is real depth and detail in its depiction of this field, including the evolution and development of the science and technology associated with photography, as well as its social impact and economic aspects. There is an abundance of material to observe here, much of it possessing real period charm.

There is a compact but vibrant area dealing with the internet, its development, its effects and its future. Again, much emphasis is placed on how we arrived at where we are now, with some items which will stir much nostalgia for people of a certain age.

I also enjoyed the part of the museum which looks at the subject of animation. Comprehensive and exuding attention to detail. The television section includes much focus on production and planning, in addition to the history of the genre. Once again, lots of excellent and noteworthy items to be seen, tracing the progression of the technology. The sheer quantity is admirable, as is the inventive way in which it is presented.

All in all, the National Media Museum was a bit of a revelation to me, in its level of erudition and the breadth and scale of the material on view. I would recommend to potential visitors that they set aside a decent amount of time, to enable them to get the full benefit of what the venue has to offer, and to absorb the information. If this is done, then much enlightenment and enjoyment is to be had. Educational, stimulating and also great fun!

Marquee Moon - Television - album review

As my musical horizons have become wider, I have grown to see New York or American punk music of the 1970s as more credible than its British counterpart. The "attitude", and occasional anger and vitriol, are by and large dished out more temperately, but the energy and immediacy are clothed in musicianship and pop sensibility of no little consequence.  Television's 1977 album "Marquee Moon" is arguably the single most affecting document to emanate from the scene.

One thing to observe about "Marquee Moon" is that it appeals to a very broad constituency, including people who ordinarily gravitate towards the genres of music to which the advocates of "punk" were meant to be antagonistic. I would not normally self-identify as a particular fan of punk per se, but this has become one of my favourite albums. Indeed, many good judges rate "Marquee Moon" as one of the great guitar albums.

The geometric but scintillating guitar work is one of the album's hallmarks, although it does not totally overshadow the quality of the songs, or the muscular rhythm section. The guitars betray the group's musical roots, but also possess a quality and dexterity which would even command admiration from devotees of progressive rock. I also detect echoes of Neil Young and Crazy Horse in places, and the sonic atmosphere reminds me of the "serious" end of British glam rock (Bowie, Roxy Music etc) and art-rock such as that created by the likes of Be Bop Deluxe.

These factors goes some way to explaining "Marquee Moon"s widespread appeal. The record even contains some songs which are more than four minutes in duration! So if we are defining this as a "punk" album then it can be seen that it breaks many of the "rules" of that genre. Perhaps the term "art punk" is more appropriate?  Or should we just dispense with all attempts at labels, and simply enjoy and savour the music?

I have heard some criticism of Tom Verlaine's vocals on the record. He may not have a conventionally "sweet" or smooth voice, but for me it perfectly complements the musical and lyrical backdrop, and engenders the ideal ambience.

When returning to "Marquee Moon" after a break, one of the things which is striking is the consistent quality of the material throughout the running order. The diet of four-piece guitar-led fare can serve to make the songs feel "samey" on the surface, but closer examination reveals the variety and vitality on offer.

The epic title track could seem to dominate all else, but patient and attentive listening will facilitate an appreciation of the "minor" items, such as the opener "See No Evil", with its insidious but exhilarating and insistent riff and rhythm. "Venus" and "Friction" are also gems in their own fashion, while "Prove It" and "Guiding Light" exude in a more transparent manner the traits of 50s and early 60s rock n roll. "Torn Curtain" concludes proceedings (brings the curtain down, if you'll pardon the pun) on an intense, slightly unsettling but memorable note.

"Marquee Moon" is a remarkable, stimulating and invigorating record, guaranteed to help the jaded listener blow away any musical cobwebs. Unlike some vaunted "classics", it fully warrants the fulsome praise heaped on it. Television were never able to match this album, but it stands as one of the towering achievements of 70s rock music. This really was high quality "indie" or "alternative" music, before those two terms had really been coined.

Whatever Happened To The Likely Lads?

Just recently, whilst seeking inspiration and emotional sustenance, I dug out my DVDs of "Whatever Happened To The Likely Lads", the classic BBC sitcom from the 1970s. The works of Dick Clement and Alan La Frenais are always a nice refuge, because of the depth and richness of their writing.

Apart from the quality of the scripts and the acting, the major strength of this show was its premise, Terry Collier returning from five years in the Army to find his best friend Bob Ferris immersed in his career, and on the verge of domestic bliss with Thelma. The tension and comic potential inherent in this scenario are harnessed to the full. However, it is the particular methods of the writers which created the real magic.

The humour is very British, but the subject matter is universal.  Much of the dialogue deals with the problems of leaving behind one's youth, and the conflicting attractions of domesticity, independence and carefree indolence. The show also examines issues of class, snobbery and social structures in a very natural and perceptive way, pointing out what really happens, not the version which tends to be projected by those with some axe to grind. The absence of preaching and moralizing is an advantage, and although contentious issues are not overlooked, they are not allowed to overshadow the levity.

A real asset of Clement and La Frenais' writing is the capacity to be honest and realistic about social mores and hang-ups, and to extract great and enduring comedy from it. Moreover, in addition to the laughs, the situation and the stories have the power to provoke reflection on the part of the viewer. The ground which is covered is that with which real people can identify, because it is rooted in everyday existence - social climbing, thwarted aspirations, nostalgia, family, friendships. This makes it timeless, like few other comedies of its era. Only the hairstyles and the fashions have dated!

The scripts are delightfully homely and organic, conveying the vitality, eccentricity and occasional absurdity of British life, its contradictions and foibles. Much of the material concentrates on the dichotomy between the less complicated worlds of childhood and young adulthood, and the practicalities and harsh but inescapable realities and responsibilities of being "grown up". Much of this is encapsulated in the episodes  "Storm in A Tea Chest" and "The Ant and the Grasshopper" - the battle to maintain a balance in the face of commitments, priorities and pressures.

The subject of friendship is also explored;its limitations, its virtues and its constraints, and how it evolves and becomes more complicated and occasionally burdensome.

If this wonderful show reminds me of anything these days, it is that whatever our idealism and nostalgia, the world of adult existence is one long series of compromises. Many of us either never fully embrace this, or realize it too late....

Lewis Collins 1946-2013

It is with great sadness that I heard this morning of the death, aged 67, of the actor Lewis Collins, best known for his role as Bodie in "The Professionals".

In large part because of his image as the quintessential tough-guy or action-man, the contribution which Lewis Collins' acting talents made to the success and appeal of "The Professionals" has been underestimated. His performances often revealed a capacity for comedy, and also for more gentle and cerebral moments. The characters of both Bodie and Doyle were more complex and rounded than the typical TV cops or secret agents, but only the latter has been accorded the great acclaim of the critics, being perceived as a sensitive, culturally-aware type. However, if one closely watches the episodes, it can be seen that the dialogue involving Bodie was often challenging and above-average in its profundity. The exchanges both with Doyle, and with the irascible George Cowley (played by Gordon Jackson) often brought out the idiosyncrasies in the Bodie psyche. Above all, Lewis Collins managed to make his character seem both human and vulnerable, as well as heroic and resourceful.

As many people have correctly observed, he would have made a superb James Bond....

Many people of my generation will be touched by today's news....

The Reginald Perrin Omnibus

One of the more curious and interesting phenomena in popular culture in the 1970s was that of Reginald Perrin.  My interest in the character having recently been re-ignited, I made a point of searching out The Reginald Perrin Omnibus, a collection of the David Nobbs-penned books on which the later television sitcom (starring Leonard Rossiter in the title role) was based.

For the avoidance of confusion, it should be emphasised that although the TV sitcom was entitled The Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin, it  actually covers the same events and timespan as the three novels which make up the omnibus, the first of which is itself also called "The Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin", the other two being called "The Return of Reginald Perrin" and "The Better World of Reginald Perrin".

To summarise for the uninitiated, Reginald Perrin is a middle-aged executive with Sunshine Desserts, and as the story begins, he is being confronted with an incipient breakdown of sorts, seemingly precipitated by the drudgery of his job and his daily routine, and a nagging feeling that "there must be more to life than this". The three novels which constitute the "omnibus", and the aforementioned sitcom, follow Reggie through his various life-changes, projects and adventures in the ensuing few years.

One of the first things which I noticed when reading The Reginald Perrin Omnibus was how much the books had been compressed when adapted for television.  The novels have a more sinuous and less streamlined quality about them, with the more risque aspects and sub-plots left in. The additional exposition which this all permits, and the more expansive prose, make these written stories an even more surreal and comic experience - more of a black comedy when in print form, I would say.There is much light-hearted and satirical musing on 1970s Britain, with more context and perspective than could be realistically expected in a condensed small-screen version.

The novels allow more extensive concentration on the niceties and absurdities of English middle-class suburban and rural life. The quirks and eccentricities are woven into the plot in wonderfully deadpan and undemonstrative style, and this forms a sizeable part of the appeal.This is the kind of book which one can breeze through almost effortlessly.  I was past page 500 almost before I realized it!

Another thing which occurred to me when working my way through the pages was perhaps what the author was aiming at, namely a more rounded and all-encompassing look at "modern life", from a 1970s viewpoint. Yes, fun is poked at consumerism and careerism, but equally there is much gentle but pointed teasing at the expense of the "trendy" and "progressive" ideas, attitudes and practices which were in vogue at the time. One senses that Reginald Perrin was striving to rise above it ALL, maybe sensing that even "alternative" things very soon assume a form of normality and routine. These nuances did not come out as strongly in the TV show, I feel.

Bearing in mind that this was written during the 1970s, some references contained within it might not meet with the wholehearted approval of the 21st century palate, although it is arguably reflective of the social and cultural climate of those days.

Despite reinventing himself a couple of times, Reggie ended up coming full circle in a professional and lifestyle sense, although the conclusion of our story is left open-ended as, confronted with a sense of deja vu at Amalgamated Aerosols, he initiates plans to return to the Dorset coast, scene of his two previous metamorphoses.

Although the ultimate outcome is not made clear, one can speculate what the inference was. This left me with a slightly deflated feeling.  Even when we take it upon ourselves to "change", life is still a cycle, or a series of cycles.

Did Reginald Perrin eventually see only one mode of escape from the cycle of cycles?  Or did he re-emerge again, to reboard the treadmill, in the hope that he would find something which even he had difficulty conceptualizing?  It is significant that each time he "disappeared", it did not take long for him to revert to being Reggie again. A recognition that we can never really escape or shed our "self"?

It is tempting to see the Reginald Perrin saga as an ultimately sobering and discouraging parable of modern man.  However, not only is it an enjoyable and stimulating read, but it can also be construed as inspirational, by affirming that things do not necessarily have to be "this way".  It conceivably also lends weight to the notion that "it's better to travel hopefully than to arrive".  Does the "arriving" ever really happen for most of us? The grass is not always greener on the other side, but the chasing, hoping and striving is what makes things worthwhile. Is this exhilaration the substitute for real contentment?  Do we have to learn to accept and value this as our lot in life?

Returning to the book, it would be fair to say that those whose perceptions of Reginald Perrin have been conditioned and shaped by the TV series may take a little while to adapt to the denser storyline, and some of its deviations. Equally, there is much more extensive and thorough development of, and insight into, the various characters and their foibles and idiosyncrasies.

Read and enjoy....

The Professionals

Well, after blogging on the question of Starsky and Hutch, I have been giving attention to what some regarded as their British equivalent, The Professionals.

It is in fact debatable whether The Professionals can be directly compared to Starsky and Hutch. The former also contained elements of both The Sweeney and James Bond!  The characters can be seen to have counterparts in the famous American series. For Starsky read Doyle; sometimes cynical, but idealistic and occasionally volatile. For Hutch read Bodie;the strong, silent type but intensely loyal to his partner.

The plot-lines often seemed like cartoonish, less plausible portrayals of contemporary themes, particularly Cold War espionage, urban guerillas and gangland activity. In fairness some of the topics covered swung a lamp over the future, suggesting the possibility of terrorism by lone fanatics, biological and chemical attacks and the increasing ferocity of drugs gangs.

It is difficult to escape the conclusion that some of the storylines were embellished for shock value, because the reality was a touch too mundane. The social issues (drugs, vice and corruption), however, were handled with some sensitivity and balance.

One amusing aspect of the programme was the way that it placed the British motor industry of the 1970s in a favourable light. No end of Ford Capris and sporty Escorts and Triumphs could be seen whizzing around in the hands of either CI5 themselves or the villains of the piece!

No mobile phones back then, of course!  The venerable public call box was much in evidence, and most of the other communication was done via humble walkie-talkies, although we did get the occasional glimpse of futuristic James-Bondesque communications technology.

Looking back at The Professionals, one criticism would be the unconvincing dialogue exchanged between Bodie and Doyle. It seemed contrived and lacking in idealism, hardly the sort of words to come from the mouths of an ex-policeman and a former solider, no matter how elite they had now become.

Based on my recent viewing of some episodes, Lewis Collins emerges with more kudos as an actor than I had previously accorded him. This belies his image as an "action hero".

One thing which the producers achieved was to convey the peculiarly sinister and claustrophobic atmosphere of the London of that time.  Leafy suburban streets, urban tower blocks and industrial wastelands provided a gritty backdrop to the action.