Showing posts with label tv-am. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tv-am. Show all posts

There's So Much More In TV Times Part 14: Parky's Perfect Dinner Party


Imagine, if you will, a time when Peter Davison was a widely-loved television star who, in spite of the occasional bit of wishy-washy fence sitting that even in its full context hardly adopts an actual tangible position, was generally seen as being on the right side of right-on and an overall likeable and decent person.

Well, that was approximately four days ago. Cast your mind back, though, to a time before people who don't even sodding watch Doctor Who decided to take a tabloid's word over his, and him out of The Terror Of The Vervoids tried to score a few cheap points and somehow still managed to come off worse. Yes, it's time to travel forwards to the late eighties, a time of huge change for TV Times. There was now an extra commercial channel, outraging the tabloids with Keith Allen swearing at a polish cartoon or something. Home video was luring viewers away from good clean World In Action and The Fear, except for when it wasn't and something about Video Nasties. And throughout it all, Brucie kept on putting on that comedy oversized chef's hat and making something out of 'leftovers', only on slightly better quality paper.


Something that had most definitely not improved with the passage of time was the quality of readers' letters. Here we can see a thoroughly pointless missive from someone who felt sufficiently impressed by a character from The Bill behaving like a character from The Bill to write in to TV Times to congratulate the programme makers on this bold artistic decision. And that's not the last we'll be hearing from Sun Hill's finest, but moving on...


Full-paged posed photos doubling up as putative 'posters' for the terminally barking mad with no discernible sense of design aesthetic were all the rage around TV Times Towers in the eighties, it seems. In the ludicrously small boxout bit that nobody ever read, Gary Wilmot - who, it's staggering to recall, was all over ITV at the time - reveals that he took time out from impersonating whoever it was he did impersonations of to indulge in a spot of proto-green Save The Trees rabble-rousing; something that, much like Timmy Mallett's denunciation of Apartheid for the benefit of Wide Awake Club viewers, suspiciously never seems to get mentioned whenever the ha ha you big rubbish what were we thinking sneering boots up again. He also seems to be wary of the imminent arrival of Ben Kingsley, Clown Union. This is followed by Matthew Kelly making with the ha ha ha hee hee hee's and 'Gnome - For A Laugh!' puns as he introduces us to his good friend Grimble Grumble. There's probably a perfectly sane and rational explanation. If there is, though, it isn't in the boxout.


TV-am's top 'Girls Who Get Britain Up In The Morning' as the tabloids always had it Ulrika Jonsson and Lorraine Kelly kick off the 1990 FIFA World Cup with a bit of posed punch-up hilarity - hardly the most appropriate of analogies at a time when football was desperately trying to restore its yob-tarnished image - in honour of their home nations' imminent Group C clash, in an issue of TV Times that mysteriously 'disappeared' into a million teenage boys' bedrooms the second that that week's Friday Night viewing was over.


Big smash blockbuster miniseries came and went in the eighties, but every Sunday evening on ITV you could find Harry Secombe strolling religiously from region to region and singing about how God made the clouds while standing in the grassy bit in the middle of a dual carriageway. Yes, bizarrely compelling surrealist masterpiece Highway was putting together an album, and they needed your inexplicably typewritten help! Just write to Harry telling him which hymns you would like to see and indeed hear on there, and when he's finished sending his Christmas Cards he'll draw up a tracklisting. Sadly, how many wags voted for He Made This Lovely Anorak is not on record.


Sometimes, on the almost unthinkably rare occasions on which Brucie was not available (or, more likely, they'd simply run out of 'leftovers'), you just had to get someone else in the kitchen to do 'wacky' poses at the top of a recipe you can't help but suspect they'd never actually been within fifteen feet of. Here for example we can see Kenny Everett refuting all accusations of 'wackiness' whilst throwing a zany look at an industrial-strength quantity of spaghetti, followed by Hale And Pace in character as 'Ron' and 'Ron', offering up a Cloret-inviting menu of basic food procedures kitted out with good honest thumping-skewed pun variants on their names, which was presumably food wot you would like otherwise 'Ron' will arrange for you to have some food wot you would not like even more if you get our meaning ur hur hur 'Ron'.


Hang on a minute... Parky? What's he doing here?! Telling us who his ideal dinner party guests would be, that's what. And it will surprise precisely nobody to learn that Billy Connolly is top of the VIP RSVP list, followed only slightly less predictably by the 'anecdote' barrage of Michael Caine, Jonathan Miller, Alistair Cooke, Anthony Burgess, Peter Ustinov, and token 'there are no women allowed on the dock of the bay' exception Shirley Maclaine. Apart from displaying a strange obsession with getting them all to gather round the piano for a sing song, he also pretty much maps out who will talk on what topic and when, and states his intention to treat them all to caviar, Dover sole and fancy ice cream washed down with coffee, cognac, port and a premier cru Chablis, all of which will take place in the Gilbert And Sullivan rooms at the Savoy. "Beat that!", boasts Parky. OK mate, fix me up with Karen Gillan and her off The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt at a Pizza Express and I fucking well will.


One regular feature of TV Times in the eighties was the confusingly titled 'My Top Ten Top Tens', in which stars of the network were asked to list their favourite examples of several 'quirky' genres, resulting in enough text to pad out to a three page spread being crammed into a single page. In this example we see Kevin Kennedy, TV 'Curly' (Coronation Street), expressing his enthusiasm for decidedly unadventurous music, movies, cuisine and lust icons, though he does sneak the somewhat less than predictable Tutti Frutti and Hank Wangford's A-Z Of Country Music into his list of 'TV Gems', which at least wins him some points. Note also how he crowbars a couple of his Corrie mates in where he can, notably Bill Tarmey above John Wayne in 'Greatest Actors'. No mention of Don't Forget The Old Folks At Christmas by Bill Waddington, though.


What I Watch was a regular feature in TV Times throughout the eighties, in which a procession of second-tier celebrites - or in some cases just anyone who actually answered the phone - namechecked a couple of currently popular television shows, primarily with a hefty ITV slant, and revealed absolutely nothing about anything whatsoever. Here, for example, is Kevin Lloyd, street-hardened DC Tosh Lines from The Bill, pretty much listing all of the then-operational ITV detective shows, followed by a plug for the now entirely forgotten massive-in-their-day sitcoms About Face and Surgical Spirit, and a suspiciously sizeable thumbs-up for ITN. It doesn't take Ted Roach to figure out what his 'snouts' had tipped him. This is followed by Brookside head honcho Phil Redmond taking time out from appearing on the front page of the Liverpool Echo holding his fringe back with a 'defeated' look and asking why the 1957 Venezuelan National Games can't be in Liverpool to bore everyone senseless about 'realism' and 'value' before going on about films and some programmes he created himself. And finally, Ian and 'Wee Jimmy' essentially run through an entire day's schedule on ITV from Chain Letters to Taggart, pausing only to admonish sitcoms for being too middle class and not reflecting real life - presumably they needed more 'naughty' schoolboys in outmoded school uniforms getting up to all manner of Forties DC Thompson-style hi-jinks (and, of course, chalking rude words on next door's garden gate) - and, worryingly, confirm that "we liked the Shoot To Kill programme". You'd never have expected that of The Krankies and their strict adherence to wholesome family fun.


Oh for fuck's sake. Still, this will only be a rare lapse on the part of good clean ITV. After, all, it was the boo hiss BBC that 'all knew', and ITV never employed any of that shower at any point ever.


Moving rapidly on...


Time to dance your cares away with Timmy Mallett and Michaela Strachan, and their tried and tested formula of just copying something in the public eye and putting 'Wac' in front of it so nobody would ever suspect a thing, as they teach us how to do the purported 'dance sensation of the summer', The 'Wacbada'. Sadly the issue in which they explained how to bust a move to Pump Up The Jam by Wacnotronic Feat. Jelly was not available. Nor was the Halloween/Bonfire Night issue of Family Circle with Timmy Mallett on the cover. Slightly less sadly.


Grr grr, remember when Ryan Paris and those Eurocrats in Brussells made us change the name of all of our best chocolate and chew bars and there was that hilarious comedy advert with a 'French' woman refusing to buy a Marathon, except it was actually a change enacted to allow more seamless integration with American branding, advertising and manufacture so don't go losing your temper and ramming some chlorinated chicken down Liam Fox's throat or anything etc etc? Well, it wasn't the only thing changing around then, and in 1991 - signposted with a bizarre full-page advert saying 'What's Bob Cryer Doing On The BBC?' - TV Times and Radio Times were finally allowed to run each other's schedules and, well, a little bit of character went out of each. So it's at this point that we leave our collective bafflement at TV Times' eccentricities for now, but there's still the seventies to get through. And more eighties. And there might even be the odd thing or two in Radio Times worth looking at. In fact, you could almost say there was so much more still in it. Sorry.



If you've enjoyed this article, you can find lots more slightly more serious writing about fifties and sixties television in Not On Your Telly, which is available in paperback here or from the Kindle Store here.

Looks Unfamiliar #5: Ben Baker - The Famous Fourth Universal Monster


Looks Unfamiliar 5 - Ben Baker

Looks Unfamiliar is a podcast in which writer and occasional broadcaster Tim Worthington talks to a guest about some of the things that they remember that nobody else ever does. Joining Tim in this episode is writer, broadcaster and quizmaster Ben Baker, who hopes against hope that somebody else remembers early Chris Evans vehicle TV Mayhem, football comic The Onion Bag, novelty yoghurt range Fiendish Feet, the early internet craze for misidentifying every comedy song as 'by' Weird Al Yankovic, Betsy Byars' Bingo Brown novels, and the International Youth Service penpal scheme. Along the way we'll be getting some unconventional yoghurt-related gardening tips, recalling the classic horror film 'Dracula Vs. The Skeleton', discussing whether Fangs-A-Lot is an appropriate family heirloom, and finding out how the least politically correct gag in history ended up at the end of a right-on charity fundraising joke book. And Colin Foley, if you're out there, please get in contact.

DOWNLOAD IT HERE - SUBSCRIBE IN ITUNES - RSS




Looks Unfamiliar is hosted by Podnose.



Support Looks Unfamiliar by buying one of Tim's books! Top Of The Box - The Story Behind Every BBC Records And Tapes Single is available in paperback here or from the Kindle Store here. And there's several other books to choose from here...

ITV 59 - All Your ITV Favourites (And Mike & Angelo) Part Nine: TV-am AND Channel 4!


Baaaa! Baaaa! B'baaaaa (DUM DUM DUM)! Well, Independent Television Fans, it seems that this archive-scouring expedition through the electronically generated polystyrene chips that used to be wedged between your average day's worth of ITV programming is attracting less than a quarter of the audience that the earlier and self-edivdently far more successful jaunt through the BBC's equivalent iconographic history did, and quite obviously this is down to the fact that TEHER ARE FAR TOO MANYT IDEANTS IDENATS

Sorry, not sure why that keeps happening. What we were trying to say up there was that quite obviously this is down to the fact that ITV really always just had a 'nyahhh... that'll do' carboard-and-Letraset attitude towards its own inter-programming corporate brandery, and as such the end result was both much less interesting and indeed much less just plain weird than that of the BBC. You may even have noticed this being ever so slightly reflected by last couple of entries not really featuring that much in the way of anything worth commenting on. In the hope of making up for this, we've kind of expanded the remit for this particular entry to allow for closer examination of two somewhat more interesting offshoots of the Independent Television expanded universe - Channel 4 in a little while later on, but firstly, TV-am!


Once an all-too-familiar sight to youngsters who had got up before TV 'started', and with all the artistic flair of a crudely felt-tipped drawing cut out with safety scissors and clumpily pasted onto dull-hued skin-irritating 'soft card' for a school project, this makeshift 'GET BACK TO BED' notice would sit blearily between the end of the overnight shutdown and transmssion tests and the actual commencement of TV-am, with Good Morning Britain's uneasy lurch from beshirted break of day 'hard news' to sofa-bound tabloidy celebrity-endorsed campaigns against whatever people were against that week famously introduced by...


Backed by THAT Jeff Wayne-penned the-chances-of-anything-coming-from-Teddington-Lock ambient synth fanfare, Good Morning Britain would blare its way onto the airwaves with a celebrated opening sequence featuring the individual words of the show title picked out firstly by - gasp - derring-do-representing 'Red Devils'-esque skydivers holding aloft a banner for the benefit of all the square-jawed youngsters who were constantly being told 'YER LIKE THIS' about quasi-military 'adventure sport' stuff, then by some flowers blooming aboard whatever it was that had latterly replaced the Ark Royal (the square-jawed youngsters neither knew nor cared and were only watching to see Super Chicken anyway), then by some 'seed'-thirsty pigeons descending on Trafalgar Square en masse in a strict lexicographical formation, and finally by some hapless members of the general public standing in a predefined arrangement to bodily spell out the full title, famously diverging in a bizarre 'melting letters' gambit at the start of certain ad breaks. And speaking of TV-am's ad breaks, you know what the best one they had was?


Hang on a minute... Parky? What's he doing here?! Don't start adjusting your set just yet - unfortunately, despite extensive research, it's proved impossible to locate any of those ad break slides wherein a crudely cut out Roland Rat mounted on a stick was pushed in at 'zany' angles in front of a still photo of a nonplussed-looking Kevin The Gerbil, so Mr. Parkinson has generously agreed to appear as an illustration in its place. Anyway, that's the last we'll be seeing of him.


The present-day availability of cheapo cricket bat-stricken Rat mock-animated examples notwithstanding, TV-am's ad break slides really did have to be seen to be believed, walking a daredevil technological tightrope by cramming in pretty much everything bar the kitchen sink. And, if the ad break was during one of Rustie Lee's cookery slots, the kitchen sink as well. This one here manages to combine a functioning superimposed clock, a cheery picture-in-picture salutation from the resident newsreader, and impenetrably cryptic hints at upcoming features (Between Stairs??). All very impressive, though do bear in mind that you're not supposed to praise TV-am these days due to their Thatcher-impressing strike-busting anti-union antics, irrespective of the fact that their bizarre attempts to keep the station running by using tea ladies to operate cameras and running episodes of Flipper backwards (not actually an exaggeration for comic effect this time) provoked mirth rather than pride. You may as well just read the Daily Mail and be done with it. So it's definitely time to move on... to another ITV semi-affiliate that nobody upon nobody could accuse of ever displaying hostility towards right-on-ness. Well, up until about 1998 anyway.


Yes, it's those famous tumbling primary-coloured blocks assembling themselves into a warning of lefty performance art/sweary drama/feminist documentary/ethnic sitcom/agit-prop poetry/Keith Allen in general to come, Channel 4 The Big Bore! Created by original-lunch-scoffer Martin Lambie-Nairn using months of painstaking transatlantic computer technology that you could probably do in a couple of minutes on your phone now, the deceptive genius of the self-constructing approach was that - as would be endlessly demonstrated over the years - it could be easily broken down and reassembled into another suitable shape to accompany such landmark televisual events as Puffin Night, Kia-Ora Night and Mr. Pastry Night. Or even into a '5' for an actually rather amusing advert featuring what was, to all intents and purposes, an unlabelled 'mock'.


One of the more sane and rational rearrangements of the three-dimensional fragments was into this natty Swatch-evoking clock face, which it has to be said was seen on screen a lot more than any corresponding ITV clock ever was. And the reason for this curious disparity is about to be made very obvious indeed...


In a classic bout of you-couldn't-make-it-up-ness, Channel 4's early years fell victim to the very same sort of industrial relations that they insisted on showing fifteen thousand hard-hitting documentaries about every evening, and as such they were only allowed to sell a limited amount of advertising space per day. As a consequence, ad break insulation foam captions like the one seen above were common currency, albeit thankfully without some bloke with a buzzing microphone spluttering at a speaker-rattling volume over the top. If they'd shown more Murun Buchstansangur this would never have happened.


Anyway, back to those bizarre situationist reimaginings of the constituent parts of the '4'. One of Channel 4's favourite early cost-conscious space-filling gambits was the bulk-buying of televised minority sports from around the world, which unexpectedly paid off when the nation's schoolboys (and, erm, Bernard Levin) briefly became caught up in the Madden-commentated thrills and spills of American Football. While William 'The Refrigerator' Perry's spell of being known over here as anything other than a ridiculous name would prove to be all too brief, Channel 4 certainly did their utmost to capitalise when it was still a 'thing', hence the teetering 4-derived linebacker shown above. Saltwater Taffy all round, y'all!


No primary colours here, pals. As anyone of a certain age knows, night-time on Channel 4 was where European ladies took their tops off and shouted "REHHHHHH POLITICA!!!", alternative comedians joked about what would happen if Thatcher was a bus driver, award-winning animations blurted out sub-Morph gibberish about Enver Hoxha, Jonathan Ross did 'postmodernism' and went on about old toy rockets and bizarre films, and TV's The Joeys appeared in The Corner House. Except, of course, for when you were watching, when it was only ever endless hard-hitting documentaries about restrictive practices. Unless, of course, there was a certain symbol in the top left of the screen...


Woah yes. The lights are out, the family filters are off, the film stock has been rendered suitably sandpapery, and it's time to unwind with a controversial banned movie from the more uncompromising corners of the globe, so strap yourself in for a generous helping of allegorical nude ladies, allegorical laughably rendered cannibalism, allegorical frank talk about sexually transmitted diseases and allegorical babbling in invented nonsense languages with the likes of Pastoral Hide And Seek, Throw Out Your Books Go Into The Street, Out Of The Blue, Identification Of A Woman and The Clinic. Or, when you were watching, hard-hitting documentaries about restrictive practices, only in Brazil or something.


And to round things off, here's the special variant they produced to celebrate Channel 4's fifth birthday in 1987, an occasion that they marked with repeats of Ace Of Wands, The Tomorrow People and Randall And Hopkirk (Deceased). A joke that will be lost on all bar about three percent of the readership. Oh well, join us again next time for the bit you've all been waiting for...


If you've enjoyed this article, you can find lots more about stuff you just don't see on television any more in Not On Your Telly, which is available in paperback here or from the Kindle Store here.

ITV 59 - All Your ITV Favourites (And Here's Boomer) Part Five: Oracle

Well, it looks like it's one of those boring 'let's have a look at some of Britain's disappearing wildlife' bits in Tiswas/Good Morning Britain/That CITV One With The Family With The Teenage Son With The Ned's Atomic Dustbin T-Shirt, and so it's time to grab the remote and - after customarily hitting the wrong button three or four times - have a quick glance at Oracle!

Yes, Oracle - ITV's original Internet-trouncing teletext service, which if we're being honest about it sort of fulfilled a very different kind of purpose to its more celebrated BBC-catapulted counterpart Ceefax. Oracle nominally stood for Optional Reception of Announcements by Coded Line Electronics, and that 'Optional' bit was really what was important here; launched in the mid to late seventies (bafflingly, nobody seems to have any reliable idea of exactly when), at a time when ITV's broadcast hours were already wildly outstripping those of the BBC, there wasn't really very much scope or indeed need for a Pages From Ceefax-style out-of-hours promo/preview hoedown, and so people tended to alternate a quick adverts-averting glance at the blocky headlines with their regular ITV viewing, almost as if it was a separate channel in its own right. As such, and as we shall see, it didn't really need those same sort of attention-grabbing graphical splash screens that Ceefax routinely traded in, and was all a bit content-heavy as the youngsters have it, but there were still a few surprises along the way...


As you can no doubt deduce from the rather spartan Ipso-containers-turned-on-their-side logo, Oracle had an unnerving tendency to look somewhat more rickety and less solidly build than Ceefax, as though it was at risk of teetering over and collapsing in a pile of primary coloured lines at the bottom of the screen at any second. This structural uncertainty is also showcased in an example of a typical news menu page, featuring an almost comically quaint appeal to send in your newsworthy items by post, rare ITV showings for Newsround and Catterick, and the intriguing-sounding 'Report Froms'. And thirdly, here's some instructions on how to could get further info on something you'd seen in a TV show in the olden days before the coming of endless cascading flash menus that you can't work out how to navigate properly. £2.95? Getouddahere.


More staggering still than any requests for postal headline-lobbage or enthusiastically stated month-long wait for scrappy overpriced photocopied tie-in sheets was the fact that people really did genuinely used to rely on Oracle to keep them up to date with the latest up-to-the-minute football happenings. In the hope of drawing in further armchair rattle-rattlers who had thus far somehow managed to avoid TV, radio, newspapers and any actual football matches, Oracle would regularly deploy such attention-grabbing gambits as this quasi-animated logo variant apparently boasting a guest appearance from the thing off Entrance To Hades in Jet Set Willy, and a Video Nasty-fonted Bobby Moore writing 'exclusive' for Oracle. That's not 'exclusively'. Just 'exclusive'. Anyway, football fans should now be grateful we now live in a world where you can get all the latest soccertastic news by following Alan Sugar's football tweets as reinterpreted by Richard Herring.


Some rare excursions into Oracle-hewn graphic art next, and first up there's a TV Guide intro denoted by a telly with a stetson on it - no prizes for guessing that this hails from the era of Dallas-mania - followed by tediously typical learn-to-swim-young-man-learn-to-swim-era Thomas Cook-esque gender-politically-dubious 'holiday' iconography, and finally some Oracle-bigging-up newspaper-dissing facts and figures that were no doubt staggering for the time but now seem almost hilariously obsolete in the age of Caitlin Moran scurrying behind a 'paywall', which for some reason are accompanied by Mr. Noseybonk having a good peruse of his new remote control. Wonder if he's noticed the missing numbers yet?


Occasionally, and slightly more visually arrestingly, you would also encounter a rendering of an ITV region's ident. Though normally, for obvious reasons, you would only ever get your own regional insignia - above you can see STV and Central, both bewilderingly coming across as even more geometrically ramshackle than the originals, and TV-am's that-bit-at-the-end-of-The-Mr.-Men stripy blur (and yes, Roland's 'pad' will be getting its own entry in due course) - no doubt occasioning some disconcertingly thorough individuals to fashion their own makeshift I-Spy Book Of Teletext-Fashioned Idents to mark off whilst visiting ITV-disparate relatives across the country. You could have been watching unlisted Anglia-only repeats of The Secret Service, you fools!


One of the more ambitious uses of the angle-edged artistic effects at Oracle's disposal was Park Avenue, a daily soap opera ostensibly written by one 'Robbie Burns', which didn't so much deal in EastEnders (When It Was Good)-level taboo-challenging as it did those that might have been proposed by a writer spluttering "I have a horsey... neigh... neigh" at a Waggoners Walk script meeting. Some enterprising genius (sorry, we did try to find your name to credit you, but it was like trying to find the cinema listings on Oracle) has preserved an entire 'episode' and collated it into the animated masterpiece you see before you. People really did used to follow this, you know.


Meanwhile, seeing as how as it was really just mostly the same content as Oracle only with slightly different colours so nobody would ever suspect a thing, there isn't really very much point in running an individual entry on Channel 4's own Teletext service 4-Tel, so we'll just mention their even more ambitious daily running serial - the deeply hallucinogenic exploits of existential blue hound 4-T, seen here riddling with some Disney-qesue talking chess pieces - here. In the next frame he called them 'TVS Archive-Blocking Basts' and thew them in a bin.


Sadly, Oracle would end up losing out in the controversial (well, with fans of T-Bag) ITV franchise reshuffle of 1992, meaning that from 1st January 1993 it was replaced by Teletext, whose imaginative name tells you all that you need to know about how diverting their actual content was. Any reputation that Teletext may have seems to rest solely on Bamboozle, a bafflingly popular daily quiz in which The Dad From Happy Days posed such posers as "WHICH of the following is a popular Lenny Henry sitcom? A) CHEF B) DOG C) TACO D) LEDERHOSEN". Other than that, absolutely nothing controversial, noteworthy or in any way interesting happened on Teletext at all ever.