Back to December 1982 (28th December 1982)

There’s a silver Christmas tree behind Mike Read, so it must be the Pop Quiz festive special. Team captain David Essex is joined by Mari Wilson and Leo Sayer who face down opposing team captain Hank Marvin as well as Captain Sensible and Duran Duran’s John Taylor (cue deafening screams from the female audience when he’s introduced and any time he gets a question right).

After this febrile Pop Quiz atmosphere, it’s good to relax with something a little more sedate – namely highlights of the 1982 Snooker World Championship. Although Alex Higgins (no stranger to bad behaviour) was involved, for once he kept his emotions in check until after the final ball was potted to claim an improbable second world title (ten years after his first). Rather delightfully, today’s programme is available in full on YouTube.

Next up it’ll be The Kenny Everett Television Show. Geoffrey Palmer, Janet Street Porter, Nicholas Lyndhurst, Terry Wogan, Lulu, Billy Connolly, Barry Cryer, Russell Harty and Pamela Stephenson all pop up – which is good going for a 30 minute show.

From ITV, I’ll take Way out West (I always tend to associate Laurel & Hardy from this era with the BBC, so it’s a slight surprise to see them on ITV).  The other ITV pick today will be John Wells’ Anyone for Denis? at 8:45 pm.

Treasure Hunt debuts on C4. They didn’t take the easy way out with this first episode – deciding on an O.B. from Bali. But (unless they were all cut out) technical glitches were minimal. Stop the clock!

Back To Christmas 1982 (27th December 1982)

It’s a quiet day for me on BBC1 and BBC2, but The Funny Side of Christmas will be a must watch. Had it aired on the 25th then they could have revived the Christmas Night With The Stars name (indeed, given the talent involved it’s slightly remarkable that it didn’t take pole position on the big day).

Hosted by the incredibly avuncular Frank Muir, it features newly recorded bite-sized treats from many of the BBC’s comedy favourites. Most were still in production at the time, the one major exception being The Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin which had finished in 1979. That the whole cast were happy to reassemble for this five minute skit says a great deal about their positive feelings for the show.

Some (Yes Minister) are short but sweet, lasting for less than two minutes whilst Smith & Jones are given a generous eight minutes (in their first post NTNOCN sketch appearance). All this plus the likes of Butterflies, Last of the Summer Wine, Open All Hours, Only Fools and Horses, Cissie and Ada ….

Luckily it doesn’t clash with The Morecambe & Wise Show on ITV. It’s slightly sad that, post BBC, the show’s no longer a Christmas night fixture but the formula remains the same. Tonight, amongst other treats, Robert Hardy will demonstrate his dancing skills. Given how familiar some of the BBC festive specials are, these days I do enjoy sampling the less well known treats of the Thames era – some of the rehashes don’t work as well as they did first time round, but overall the series deserves a little more love than it receives.

Earlier on ITV, there’s the big Bond movie premiere – Moonraker. Some people dislike Moonraker, but we don’t need to worry about them. Yes, it’s got very little to do with Ian Fleming but if I want to enjoy Ian Fleming’s James Bond then I’ll pick up one of his books. This is just the sort of entertainment you want at this time of year – plenty of action, bad jokes and Roger Moore being Roger Moore. Perfect.

Back to Christmas 1982 (26th December 1982)

Post Christmas over-indulgence, what does today has to offer? Well, there’s Two-Way Stretch on BBC2 for starters. Another entry in the Sellers over Christmas season, this brisk early sixties film saw Peter Sellers joined by Bernard Cribbins, Lionel Jeffries, Wilfrid Hyde White and David Lodge (not to mention a supporting cast full of familiar faces). Good stuff, and just the sort of thing to while away a quiet afternoon.

He-De-Hi!‘s Christmas special (Eruptions) didn’t quite make the grade for Christmas Day, but it’s been given a plum spot on the 26th. Highlight of the episode has to be Jeff and Gladys’ enforced night spent in the Three Bears’ Cottage. As I’ve said before, nobody could squirm quite like Simon Cadell and both he and the recently departed Ruth Madoc are on fine form here.

Over on ITV there’s Pop Goes Christmas to enjoy (rather oddly given an early timeslot of 4:45 pm).  It has a mixture of oh-so 1982 acts (Mari Wilson, Toto Coelo, Musical Youth) and others (Dexys Midnight Runners, David Essex) who’ve managed to last slightly younger. Some tackle Christmas classics (Dexys’ version of Merry Christmas Everyone and Toyah’s I Believe In Father Christmas are two standouts) whilst others perform their hits from earlier in the the year (although Mari Wilson indulges in a spot of lyric re-writing to give her hit a more festive tinge).

David Essex, with A Winter’s Tale, has a current Christmas song, of course, and it gets another airing today (having already enjoyed a prime slot yesterday with The Two Ronnies).

Back to Christmas 1982 (25th December 1982)

Merry Christmas!

First stop today will be the festive Top of the Pops. A gaggle of R1 jocks are on hand to introduce some of this year’s top tunes. Highlights include a pantomimic Land of Make Believe by Bucks Fizz that has to be seen to be believed, Dexys Midnight Runners with Come on Eileen (although they didn’t dress up, alas) and Soft Cell with Torch.

BBC1 continues to offer solid entertainment later with The Paul Daniels Magic Show, Last of the Summer Wine and The Two Ronnies Christmas Show. Paul Daniels welcomes a gaggle of stars onto his show, most of whom (apart from Rolf Harris) would still be welcome guests today. Kenneth Williams is given the opportunity to shine with a very dramatic monologue (he seems to have enjoyed himself, although his diaries might tell a different story) and Patrick Moore (plus Barry Took) are on hand to assist the final illusion which sees a rather wobbly space rocket, containing the lovely Debbie McGee, venturing a few feet off the ground.

Today’s Last of the Summer Wine (All Mod Conned) is only a half hour effort, but on the plus side that means it doesn’t outstay its welcome. Foggy attempts to organise a holiday trip which (as you might expect) doesn’t run that smoothly ….

The Two Ronnies are on traditional form, although the show lacks the customary opening and closing links, which is a little jarring. Elsewhere it’s business as usual though, with an entertaining Chas & Dave skit (mind you, some of the extras seem more enthused than others).  The Sid & George sketch always delivers, thanks to John Sullivan’s writing, and the final film sketch has a festive tinge (and a guest appearance from Brigit Forsyth). All this, plus David Essex singing A Winter’s Tale.

There might be time to squeeze in the Agatha Christie film Death on the Nile, although as it’s a pretty busy day it might have to be taped on the VCR for later viewing.

BBC1’s offering so many delights today, that there won’t be much time for ITV or C4, but Chas & Dave’s Christmas Knees-up will go on the list as will Olivier’s Richard III (although like Death on the Nile I might defer the viewing for another, quieter, day).

Back to Christmas 1982 (24th December 1982)

There’s a short season of Peter Sellers films to enjoy this Christmas, beginning today with I’m Alright Jack on BBC2. That’ll certainly go on the list as it’s an evergreen favourite that still has a satirical bite today (and the cast – including Ian Carmichael, Terry-Thomas, Richard Attenborough, Dennis Price, Margaret Rutherford, Irene Handl, Liz Fraser and John Le Mesurier – aren’t too shabby either).

I’ll stick with BBC2 for a repeat of K9 & Company. I don’t really approve of ‘guilty pleasures’ – something’s either a pleasure or not – but I have to admit that I’ve rewatched this many more times than is really sensible. Ignoring (or indeed cherishing) its many faults is all part of the fun.

At 8:40 on BBC1 there’s Christmas With Terry & June, which will be my last pick today on the BBC.

ITV’s offering a repeat of The GoodiesSnow White 2. By this point, The Goodies’ brief association with Thames had already come to an end – a shame as the run of episodes had been pretty strong. Next up is The Stanley Baxter Hour. Like The Goodies, Baxter would eventually fall foul of ITV (also for cost reasons – his shows simply became too expensive for them) but for now he’s one of the jewels in their crown. Never as high profile as Morecambe & Wise or Benny Hill, Baxter always delivered though – and if the scripts weren’t always that sharp, his performances were.

I’ll round off today with a real oddity on C4 – The Curious Case of Santa Claus. Starring James Coco and Jon Pertwee and written by Bob Larbey it’s well worth a look.

Christmas is coming ….

Christmas, as tends to always happen around this time of the year, is fast approaching. I’ve already begun to rummage around in my archive for some suitably festive programming to enjoy. The three surviving Christmas Night With The Stars from its original run (1958, 1964, 1972) have all received an airing earlier in the week. Surely it’s about time BBC4 rebroadcast 1958? An upgrade from my timecoded copy would be very welcome ….

YouTube is currently offering a selection of festive treats – such as Basil Brush’s Christmas Fantasy Pop Goes Christmas and this quite unforgettable mid 1970’s Crackerjack-esque version of Robinson Crusoe. It’s not for the faint hearted (Ed ‘Stewpot’ Stewart as Man Friday, for example) but it’s nice to see the likes of Windsor Davies, Don Estelle and John Inman.

Later this month, I’ll be spending the Christmas fortnight back in 1982. By a fortunate coincidence, the 1982 double issues of the Radio and TV Times run from 24/12 – 7/1, just like 2022, so I’ll be in some sort of sync with real life. Already I’ve begun to peruse the mags and started to tick off what I want to see (there looks to be plenty to keep me amused).

Back to November 1982 (27th November 1982)

There’s only a few options available to me today, but luckily they’re all more than decent.

First there’s Juliet Bravo on BBC1.  JB is an interesting series. Its countryside setting and early Saturday evening timeslot has tended to see it retrospectively labelled as a cosy type of show (similar to the later Heartbeat) but that’s not really the case at all. And although it was created by Ian Kennedy Martin, the show couldn’t be further removed from the frenetic swagger of The Sweeney.

Instead, JB tended to tell bleak and unsettling character stories which are far removed from what we think of today as typical Saturday evening programming. Misunderstandings by Valerie George (her sole script for the series) is an excellent example of this, featuring strong guest performances (especially from Valerie Georgeson).

Repeats will have to suffice for the rest of today’s viewing. They’re both on C4 – first Upstairs Downstairs and then The Avengers. If you’re feeling a little down after Juliet Bravo, then I Dies From Love isn’t going to cheer you up. But it’s a powerful script by Terence Brady and Charlotte Bingham, featuring a heartbreaking performance from Evin Crowley as the doomed scullery maid Emily.

Happily, we’ll be rounding off the evening on a lighter note. The Hidden Tiger is this week’s Avengers repeat. I find that the colour Diana Rigg series can get a little monotonous if watched too quickly, but dipping in and out you’ll almost always find something of interest. Today, Ronnie Barker and Gabrielle Drake are amongst the guest artists, so that bodes well.

Back To November 1982 (26th November 1982)

We’re back in the days when Children In Need didn’t dominate the entire BBC1 evening schedule. Indeed, it’s surprising just how little coverage there is (less is more, maybe?). From the available programmes, I’ll be taking Whatever Happened To The Likely Lads? 

Whenever I tweet something about the series, you can guarantee that someone will pop up to tell me that nasty old James Bolam blocked any repeats. But there’s no evidence of this (indeed, the fact that the Daily Mirror’s Stan bemoans the fact that WHTTLL? is often dug out as a schedule filler rather proves the opposite).

There’s another old sitcom repeat on BBC2 (Dad’s Army). The series wasn’t quite as obliquitous in re-runs during the early eighties, which meant that this was probably when I saw a lot of these episodes for the first time. Today’s offering is Man Hunt from 1969, not a stellar episode, but it’ll still pass thirty minutes very agreeably.

Finally there’s a new programme to enjoy. ITV at 9.00 pm is Gentle Touch time. P.J. Hammond is scripting, which is the guarantee for an odd and unsettling fifty minutes (today’s ep features a very effective guest turn from Sheila Gish as Adela Baker).

Network’s Greatest Hits

I was very sorry to hear that Network’s founder, Tim Beddows, recently passed away at the very early age of 59 (click here for more info). The fact that I have multiple shelves groaning with Network’s DVDs is testament to just how much this one company has been responsible for developing my appreciation for archive television over the past few decades.

Network have always been a company that’s delighted in championing the obscure, which is one of the main reasons why I love them.  Their archive television releases may have slowed down in recent years, but you can never guess what might pop up next. Give Us A Clue, for example. I wasn’t expecting that, but I’ll certainly take it.

What follows is a quick list of just a few of my favourites from their back catalogue – some were titles new to me, others were ones where I was happy to upgrade from VHS to DVD (or BD). Let’s dive in ….

Charley Says

This might very well have been the first Network DVD I bought, certainly it was one of the earliest. I do remember that the original pressing had a rather eccentric menu selection page, meaning that selecting a specific PIF was something of a challenge. Thankfully, some years later the disc was repressed with a bonus second volume, and this is the one that I keep returning to on a regular basis.

Public Eye

I loved the early years of Network, which saw a regular stream of releases that I had no prior knowledge of (but was more than happy to take a chance on). More often than not, as with Public Eye, I came up trumps. For some reason the repeats back in the day totally passed me by, but from the first episode I saw (Welcome to Brighton?) I was hooked.

Sergeant Cork

This was another, equally obscure series to me (and I guess to most of the target audience). Series one was another blind buy, but again it was money well spent and Cork now ranks as one of my favourite 1960’s drama series. A production line series, with episodes churned out regularly over several lengthy periods, it’s slightly astounding that the quality always remained so high. And the fact that every episode was eventually located is another miracle for a drama series of this era. If you haven’t seen it, then I’d heartily recommend it.

Gideon’s Way

Thanks to Network, I’ve a large chunk of ITC’s film series output. I remain very fond of the big hitters (like The Saint) but equally I’ve a lot of time for shows like Gideon’s Way. More kitchen-sink than ITC’s usual crime shows (although the series lacked the dark edge found in John Creasey’s novels) it’s another series which has withstood multiple rewatches.

Crown Court

When I bought volume one of Crown Court, I didn’t really imagine I’d be that interested in picking up any further releases. Like many, I had dim memories of the series from times spent at home as a child (either from being sick or at half term) and assumed that this first release would be enough to quench my thirst. Wrong! The quality of the scripting and acting came as a real surprise and I hungrily snapped up the subsequent seven releases. I still pine today for further DVDs. Maybe one day.

There are so many others bubbling under this top five list – Sunday Night at the London Palladium, The Beiderbecke Trilogy, The Plane Makers, The Power Game, The Main Chance, Callan, Special Branch, Redcap, Star Cops, The Feathered Serpent, Sykes, Sez Les, etc, etc.

If there’s any I’ve missed (and I’m sure there’s plenty) please feel free to leave a comment below.

Back to November 1982 (25th November 1982)

I’ll be kicking off the evening with TOTP. Not a classic edition but studio performances by Talk Talk (Talk Talk) and A Flock of Seagulls (Wishing If I Had a Photograph of You) ensure that it’s not a total write-off.

From then on, it’s sitcoms all the way. There’s an embarrassment of riches tonight, beginning with Only When I Laugh and Shelley on ITV. Then it’ll be over to BBC1 for Only Fools and Horses before the highlight of the evening (both mine and Stan’s) which is Yes Minister on BBC2.

Tonight’s episode is The Skeleton in the Cupboard and offers Jim the satisfaction of gaining the upper hand over Sir Humphrey. The episode has two plotlines which are only tenuously connected (either could have worked just as well in another episode without the other) but when there’s so many quotable lines flying about, I’m not too concerned about plotting. To give just two examples ….

Sir Humphrey Appleby: If local authorities don’t send us the statistics that we ask for, then government figures will be a nonsense.
Jim Hacker: Why?
Sir Humphrey Appleby: They will be incomplete.
Jim Hacker: But government figures are a nonsense anyway.
Bernard Woolley: I think Sir Humphrey want to ensure they are a complete nonsense.

Jim Hacker: Bernard, how did Sir Humphrey know I was with Dr. Cartwright?
Bernard Woolley: God moves in a mysterious way.
Jim Hacker: Let me make one thing perfectly clear: Humphrey is not God, OK?
Bernard Woolley: Will you tell him or shall I?

The first storyline concerns a local council which has attracted Sir Humphrey’s ire (because they never send their paperwork back to the DAA). This hasn’t stopped them from becoming the most efficient council in the country though, but that’s something which cuts no ice with a bureaucratic mandarin like Sir Humphrey.

Jim is reluctant to censure the council simply because they can’t fill in forms, but he’s pressured by Sir Humphrey to do so. Jim seems to have no choice, but then a gift (evidence of Sir Humphrey’s incompetence from thirty years ago) is dropped into his lap. This is the cue for some exquisite squirming from Nigel Hawthorne as he reluctantly confesses all (equally good as ever, of course, is Paul Eddington as we see Jim delight in twisting the knife).

It’s difficult to say that Hawthorne didn’t deserve the four BAFTAs he won for Yes Minister and Yes Prime Minister, but it’s a bitter irony that Paul Eddington had to lose out to his colleague on each occasion (in the years that Hawthorne won, Eddington was always also nominated). If Jim and Sir Humphrey were a double act, then you could say that Eddington tended to play the feed at times (but though he had the less showy role, he was always excellent value). Indeed, one of the pleasures of rewatching the series is simply to appreciate just how good they both were.

Back to November 1982 (24th November 1982)

Tonight I’ll be catching To The Manor Born and Dallas on BBC1. To The Manor Born was incredibly popular at the time (the final episode in 1981 pulled in a staggering 27 million viewers) but it hasn’t retained the same profile today. The fact it doesn’t get re-run has something to do with this, of course. The performances are the thing which still engage the interest – especially Penelope Keith as the horrendous and self-centered Audrey fforbes-Hamilton. It’s Keith’s skill (not to mention the more sympathetic characters played by Peter Bowles and Angela Thorne) which ensures that Audrey is more than a one-dimensional snob. Although there are times when I have to confess I find her very irritating ….

I’ve been meaning to make a real dent in my Dallas boxset for some time, so maybe dipping into this episode will provide the spark to get me going. Possibly yet another programme to add to the 2023 pending rewatch pile.

I’ll set the VHS to record M*A*S*H on BBC2 whilst I switch over to ITV for The Morecambe & Wise Show and Minder. It’s noticeable how peak time repeats (today it’s To The Manor Born and Minder) are quite common in this era. Patricia Brake and Ruth Madoc are Eric and Ernie’s guests today. As I’ve said before, I think the Thames era deserves a little more love than it generally receives – yes, the rehashes of old scripts do become very noticeable at times (as in this episode) but the BBC series also did this from time to time (hello, Greig’s piano concerto).

All Mod Cons (S02E08, original tx 30th October 1980) is today’s Minder repeat. Toyah Wilcox guests as Kate, with Michael Robbins, Simon Cadell, Tony Osoba and Harry Towb also featuring. My thoughts on this one can be found here.

Back to November 1982 (23rd November 1982)

BBC1 offers another episode of Angels, followed by Terry & June. We’ve reached S05E06 where T&J suspect there’s skullduggery occurring at the church social’s bingo drive and set out to investigate. Fairly low-key stuff as ever then, but familiar faces (like Ronnie Brody and Patsy Smart) make appearances, which helps to enliven the half hour.

There’s another Grange Hill repeat to enjoy – we’ve reached episode ten of series five, which sees the Grange Hill Phantom lurking about. Ghosts in the school was a storyline that would haunt (sorry) the show in the future, but at least back in 1982 they had the decency to deal with it in just one episode and not eke it out over a longer length of time.

When dipping into 1982’s schedules, it’s very noticeable just how many sitcoms are available each day. Apart from Terry & June, the 23rd also offers The Young Ones, Keep It In The Family and In Loving Memory. Out of those, I think I’ll add Keep It In The Family to my list. Today, Dudley (Robert Gillespie) has decided to go UFO spotting whilst Susan (Stacy Dorning) is playing dress up ….

Back to November 1982 (22nd November 1982)

Up first this evening is Angels, and an episode from the series’ penultimate run. I’ve yet to find Angels‘ reformat into the ‘soap’ format (2 x 25 minute episodes each week) that engrossing, although maybe I’ve yet to give it a fair chance. It’s another of those series that I need to really find the time to watch consistently in sequence. Maybe it’ll be another one to attempt next year. I’ll add it to the list ….

BBC2 offers a Grange Hill repeat from series five, originally broadcast earlier in the year. It’s this one, which continues the harsher tone that’s quite noticeable this year. I’ve no doubt touched upon this before, but it’s interesting to wonder just how much input GH‘s producer (this year was Susi Hush’s sole year in charge) had in the direction of the series. Possibly the scripts had already been locked down before she arrived, but the emergence of Gripper as Roland’s nemesis throughout series five was something new for the series (previously, bullies had tended to restrict their reign of terror for only a few episodes).

The Further Adventures of Lucky Jim is on at 9.00 pm. Given that it was written by Clement and Le Frenais it’s a curiously forgotten sitcom, although it’s true that the pair do have a number of equally obscure entries in their back catalogue. It’s certainly worth checking out, even if it’s easy to initially miss that the series was set in the late sixties. Today’s episode can be found here.

Over on ITV, it’ll just be Coronation Street for me.

 

Back to November 1982 (21st November 1982)

I’ll be spending the next seven days in 1982. As before, I’ll only be highlighting programmes that I have access to and can actually watch. Let’s dive into Sunday’s schedule ….

First stop is a re-run of The Computer Programme. We’ve reached episode seven – Let’s Pretend in which Ian Macnaught-Davis and Chris Searle look at computer modelling and simulations. That’s the cue for Macnaught-Davis and Searle to spend more time huddled round a BBC B computer, although slightly more powerful systems are also available. I’ve recently rewatched the whole series but it’s never a chore to dip into it again.

There’s an episode of Maigret repeated at 4.05 pm on BBC1 – The Fontenay Murders. Having been unavailable for so many years, the series has been dragged back into the light recently – it’s now available on Blu Ray and DVD from Network and is also running on Talking Pictures TV. Truth to tell, I’ve found it to be something of a disappointment – I love 1960’s tv in general and there’s no shortage of appealing guest stars, but many of the episodes are rather dull and stodgy. Still, I’ll give this one a go and maybe it’ll appeal.

I’ll be sticking with BBC1 later for part four of Beau Geste. It’s from that endearing era of television where an English sandpit could be pressed into service as the unforgiving Algerian desert and no-one would bat an eyelid. Still, with Douglas Camfield directing a host of familiar faces (hurrah, there’s Pat Gorman!) I’m not complaining.

Today’s Hi-De-Hi! story carries on from last week. Jeff is still caught on the horns of a moral dilemma thanks to the machinations of Joe Maplin (which is the cue for more letters from the Maplins boss which have to be read out by the squirming Jeff).  This is still the imperial era of the series, with all the original cast members present and correct (as mentioned before, most Croft/Perry and Croft/Lloyd never knew when to stop and tended to carry on past their sell by dates).

Then it’ll be time to switch over to ITV for The Professionals and Tales of the Unexpected. You’ll Be All Right was the fifth and final Professionals script by Gerry O’Hara. It’s not quite the series at its peak but still passes an hour very agreeably.

Tales of the Unexpected is a series that was always incredibly uneven (one day I’ve promised myself I’ll watch all 112 episodes in order – maybe next year). Today’s offering is The Absence of Emily with Anthony Valentine and Francis Tomelty and it looks to be decent, so hopefully it’ll end the evening off with a chill or two.

Whodunnit? – Series One

I’ve recently been revisiting the first series of Whodunnit? The pilot, with Shaw Taylor in the host’s chair, aired in 1972 and there was a full series the following summer (this time with Edward Woodward as mine host).

Woodward might have been a fine actor but he was endearingly out of his depth here (think of Charlie Williams hosting The Golden Shot or Max Bygraves’ stint on Family Fortunes and you’ll get the general idea).  It’s not a total car crash as he does manage to get through each show without too many mishaps (apart from the classic moment when he bumps into the furniture and hops about in agony for several seconds) but Whodunnit? is not his finest hour.

There’s something of a stilted air about many of these early shows – partly because some of actors playing the suspects didn’t appear to be too comfortable improvising during their questioning by the panel but also because some of the panelists were rather dour types.

There were exceptions though. Jon Pertwee was irreverent throughout Knife In The Back (clearly he was eying Woodward’s job and imagining that, post Doctor Who, it would suit him quite nicely). Alfred Marks was another panelist whose tongue remained firmly in his cheek throughout.

Kevin Stoney was good value on the suspect front during the final show – Happy New Year – and indeed a number of his colleagues also joined in the fun in an episode which suggests the way the series will develop.

As for the mysteries, some (Missing on Voyage) were obvious whilst others were more of a lottery. Sometimes the clues made little sense to me (although it may be that I was watching too late at night and my senses weren’t at their sharpest). I found it irksome that Woodward forgot to mention any of the clues on one of episodes (presumably he accidentally skipped over that part, and it was decided that a retake wasn’t worthwhile) and he would have done the same at the end of Knife In the Back had Pertwee not prompted him.

So, this early run is a real curate’s egg. Enjoyable enough, especially for the familiar faces turning up as suspects and on the panel, but some of the playlets are a little underwhelming (Jeremy Lloyd and Lance Percival, creators and writers, weren’t going to give Agatha Christie any sleepless nights).

Natural Causes by Eric Chappell

Broadcast in 1988, Natural Causes is a rather obscure entry from Eric Chappell’s back catalogue. That’s not terribly surprising as it was given the less than primetime slot of 11.30 pm (although it still managed to pull in an impressive 6.5 million viewers).

It began life as a play in 1985 with Ian Lavender and Michael Robbins. Chappell’s television adaptation boasts an equally impressive cast – George Cole, Benjamin Whitrow, Prunella Scales and Leslie Ash.

Walter Bryce (Whitrow) is keen to help his neurotic wife, Ceilia (Scales), depart this vale of tears, as waiting in the wings to comfort him is his young secretary Angie (Ash).

And that’s where Vincent (Cole) comes in. He works for a company called Exodus which exists to facilitate suicides. But although things initially seen straightforward, a myriad of complications soon ensue …

The theatrical origin of the story Is quite obvious, as the production remains studio-bound throughout with no attempt made to open it up. That’s not a problem for me though as it means the play has to stand or falls on the quality of its performances.

George Cole leads the way as the pernickety Vincent. Sounding not unlike Arthur Daley, Cole gives a highly effective turn, doing most of the comic heavy lifting during the early part of the story.

He initially forms a strong double-act with Whitrow, who’s entertainingly twitchy as the unfaithful husband attempting to persuade himself (and Vincent) that the death of his wife will be a mercy for her. But the first problem occurs when she decides that they should die together. He’s not keen …

Prunella Scales, like Cole, seems to be operating well within her comfort zone but that’s not really a criticism as she does what she does so well. Leslie Ash has the lesser of the four roles but there’s still a faint air of Lady Macbeth about Angie which is appealingly teased out.

The ending doesn’t come as a huge surprise but overall the 78 minutes slipped by very agreeably. Well worth a look.

BBC Schools drama productions (1950’s – 1980’s)

I’ve recently been watching the 1966 BBC Schools production of Macbeth, with Andrew Keir in the title role. For several decades, low budget but highly serviceable drama adaptations were tacked by the BBC schools department. A handful have escaped into the public domain, but most remain locked in the vaults (and no doubt a fair few were wiped shortly after transmission).

Having enjoyed what I’ve seen (this Macbeth features, apart from Keir, the likes of Anthony Bate and James Grout with familiar faces, like William Marlowe, filling out the minor roles) I’m always temped to dig a little deeper into their history to see exactly what was produced.

Michael Simpson, who produced and directed this version of Macbeth, was also responsible for a number of similar adaptations during the 1960’s such as Hobson’s Choice, Serjeant Musgrave’s Dance and The Government Inspector. Simpson was clearly one of those directors who liked to employ a ‘rep’ of actors, as a number of them appear in more than one of these productions.

Ronald Smedley produced a series of similar adaptations in the 1970’s and 1980’s. Heil Casear! (a modern language version of Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar), A Taste of Honey and another version of The Government Inspector (this time with Robin Nedwell in the main role).  Possibly Smedley’s best-remembered production is the 1982 An Inspector Calls with Bernard Hepton, partly because it earned the accolade of an evening repeat but mainly because it remains available on YouTube (albeit in rather low-quality form).

Exactly what remains in the archives is a bit of a mystery (even TV Brain draws a blank on some of the ones I know about). Hopefully the odd one might surface on BBC4 (unlikely though that is) or YouTube (slightly more likely, as you can never tell what might get ‘liberated’ from the archives).

Witness Statements – Making The Bill: 1988 by Oliver Crocker

In July 1988, The Bill underwent a major format change – from a series running thirteen weeks each year (with a single 50 minute episode) to a twice-weekly “soap” format (with episodes now running for just 25 minutes).

The Bill wasn’t the first programme to have undergone such a transformation – something similar had previously happened to both Z Cars and Angels. However, it’s probably fair to say that the best years of both of those series were behind them at the time they were re-formatted.

With The Bill it was a different matter. Although the restricted running time and move to a pre-watershed slot concerned some, the series quickly moved from strength to strength. For many people, myself included, the late eighties and early nineties were a golden age for the show.

Following on from his previous volume, which chronicled the fifty minute episodes that comprised the first three series, Oliver Crocker’s new book takes an in-depth look at the 48 episodes broadcast in 1988 – from Light Duties in July 1988 to Taken Into Consideration at the end of December.

It’s something I’ve touched on before, but it’s very pleasing to have such a dense, oral history of a show like The Bill. Rare series – like Doctor Who – have an embarrassment of production information available for the curious reader. But the vast majority of other programmes are lucky if they have a single book dedicated to them – and even those that do, tend to offer general overviews rather than an immersive episode by episode analysis.

Witness Statements – Making The Bill: 1988 is in the same format as the previous volume. Each episode is given a brief teaser synopsis, cast and production listing, production notes and then ‘witness statements’ from an impressively wide variety of contributors (both actors and technical personnel). There’s so much value to be found in these interviews. Unlike some popular series, where people have been interviewed so many times that they now have little new to say, there’s a real freshness to this book.

To take just one example, whilst P.J, Hammond has been interviewed before, it’s almost always been about Sapphire & Steel. But I’ve always felt that Hammond’s work as a writer for hire (on Z Cars, Angels, The Bill, etc) to be an area of his career that’s worthy of more investigation, so it was very pleasing to hear from him.

Wilf Knight’s technical notes from 1988 (such as uniform protocol) were also fascinating, but to be honest there’s so much of interest in this book that I know I’ll keep on coming back to it.

For those beginning a rewatch of the 1988 series, this will serve as the ideal companion or you can simply open a page at random and find something to catch the eye. Witness Statements – Making The Bill: 1988 is an engrossing read and comes highly recommended. It can be ordered directly via this link.

Blood Money (1981)

Blood Money was a six-part serial broadcast in late 1981, written by Arden Winch, directed by Michael E. Briant and produced by Gerard Glaister.

As you’d expect with a Glaister series, most the regulars had either worked with him in the past or would do so in the future.  Blood Money featured a trio of ex-Secret Army actors (Bernard Hepton, Juliet Hammond-Hill, Stephen Yardley) as well as Michael Denison (Howards’ Way). Even a fair number of the supporting actors had strong Glaister connections (such as Dean Harris – The Fourth Arm, Cold Warrior, Howards’ Way).

With Glaister having such a say in casting, presumably Michael E. Briant had to content himself with organising the minor players. Such as Julia Vidler, who makes a fleeting appearance as a newsreader (Briant had previously used her in Angels and Blakes’ 7).

Blood Money is a good example of a programme type that would gradually fade from view as the 1980’s progressed – the 30 minute serial. It had been a staple of British television for decades (notably the BBC Classic Serial strand and Doctor Who) but by the end of the eighties, 50 minutes would be most popular format for drama slots. The success of Inspector Morse in 1987 spawned a series of imitators who also adopted its 100 minute running time, but few seemed interested in working in half hours.

That’s a slight shame, as although it’s easy to argue that it can be a little constricting, it does force the writer to constantly keep the pace up (viewed now, some of those Inspector Morses, especially the later ones, proceed at a snail’s pace).

Arden Winch wastes no time in setting up the premise of the serial – a ten year old boy, the Viscount Rupert Fitzcharles (Grant Warnock), is abducted from his public school by a mismatched group of kidnappers – Irene Kohl (Hammond-Hill), Danny Connors (Gary Whelan), James Drew (Yardley) and Charles Vivian (Cavan Kendall).

The police, led by Det Chief Supt Meadows (Hepton), are tasked with the job of finding Rupert, but their job is hampered (and occasionally helped) by frequent interjections from Captain Aubrey Percival (Denison), a member of the Security Service whose ultimate aims may run counter to those of the police.

As you’d expect, the disparate natures of the kidnappers (holed up in an anonymous house, waiting for their demands to be met) soon causes friction between them. Hammond-Hill, playing a character not totally dissimilar to her one from Secret Army, is the clear leader – Irene Kohl is a quietly fanatical idealogue to whom the concepts of surrender or comprise are alien ones.

Her lover, the Irish terrorist Danny, is a totally different type. He’s an emotional powder-key, constantly espousing, in the early episodes, bitter disdain towards the English (which is ever so slightly overdone). Rupert – a symbol of the English establishment – is an easy target for him to terrorise, but over the course of their time together he gradually forms a bond with the boy (by the end, when it looks likely that one of them will have to kill Rupert, Danny refuses point blank).

James Drew is more than happy to carry out the job though. An unrepentant killer, he exudes menace throughout – and when he realises that Irene and Danny are both formidable in their different ways, he instead amuses himself by picking away at the weak link (Charles Vivian).

Vivian isn’t quite as well drawn as the others. Although we learn that he’s a wealthy, bored dilettante (presumably indulging in a spot of terrorism just for kicks) his actual function as part of the gang is less defined. Yes, he’s the one who drops off the ransom notes in person at The Times, but surely they could have sent them in the post or aired their demands by phone?

If the kidnappers experience stresses as the episodes tick by, then there’s similar tension on the other side. Hepton is typically solid in the unshowy role of Meadows (and there’s very good support from Jack Mackenzie, Daniel Hill, Reg Woods and Dean Harris) but the character of Meadows really comes alive when he’s placed opposite Percival.  Gerard Glaister clearly saw the potential in Percival as he would return in a second serial (Skorpion) and then a short series (Cold Warrior).

If Percival is unfailingly polite, then some of his underlings (like Davis, played by Brian Croucher) are less so. I liked the interaction between Davis and DS Danny Quick (Dean Harris). Danny Quick might look like he’s been dragged through a hedge backwards but he also has a quick, analytical mind that proves to be more than a match for Davis. Harris would reprise this role in Cold Warrior (which hopefully one day will emerge, blinking into the light, from the archives).

With the kidnappers’ hideout discovered at the end of part five, the final episode proceeds towards its inevitable bloody conclusion. This wasn’t unexpected, but it still has quite the impact.

The middle episodes might tread water a little, but overall, Blood Money is a taut thriller that still stands up well today. Next job is to track down a copy of Arden Winch’s novelisation ….

Secret Army – Too Near Home (2nd November 1977)

There’s a palpable sense of unease in this episode – right from the opening few minutes. Lisa visits Sophie (a key link in the escape line) to see if she will take three new evaders. Sophie – genial as ever – is only too happy to help, but Lisa can’t stay in the sanctuary of Sophie’s comfortable house for long. But when she leaves, the problems really begin ….

I think part of the reason why the stakes feel a little higher than usual (even before anything really bad happens) is that we don’t have a Candide scene until we’re about twenty minutes in. Usually, the sight of the Candide serves as a reassurance – no matter how bad things are outside, the Candide is a place where plans can be made and problems solved.

But with no Candide, the real world feels a little harsher. This is demonstrated by the sight of Natalie and two airmen (played by the very recognisable figures of Daniel Hill and John Alkin) sitting shivering on park benches the rain. During these scenes there’s a curious red herring – a woman pushing a pram (containing not a baby, but a doll) is rather conspicuous. Is she a member of the escape line or could she be a spy? Actually she turns out to have nothing to do with the story at all, so it’s odd the way the camera favours her (possibly this was a directorial flourish added by Viktors Ritelis).

Alkin would spend several years in court (Crown Court, that is) while Hill was only at the start of his career. He’d return to Secret Army with a much larger role in the season two story The Big One (and would also work again for Gerard Glasiter in the serials Blood Money and Skorpion). The Welsh accent he essays today came as a bit of a shock, but luckily he only had a handful of lines (boyo).

The first odd piece of plotting occurs after Lisa is arrested. Earlier, Lisa told Sophie that Natalie was on her way with the evaders. That’s fine, but according to Natalie they were waiting in the park for Lisa to lead them to Sophie’s house. That makes no sense – it’s quite clear that Natalie was familiar with Sophie, so why wait for Lisa? Indeed, having two key members of Lifeline in the same place seems to be a bit risky. 

I can see why, in story terms, it happened (Natalie has to be made aware that Lisa had been taken) but it’s just clumsily done. The fact that we never see the airmen again reinforces the point that they existed only to put Lisa into a part of France where she might get picked up.

Lisa visited Julius (Shaun Curry) – a member of the resistance who mughr have had news about Lifeline’s contacts in Paris. Curry and Jan Francis would go on to work together again in Just Good Friends but it’s fair to say that the taciturn Julius is a world away from the ebullient Les Pinner.

Lisa was unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Juluis is arrested by the police and Lisa – simply by being there – is guilty by association. She’s interrogated on the spot by Inspector Landre (Gerald James). This was an excellent performance by James – all the more chilling for the fact that Landre remains so calm and matter of fact.

Lisa is sent to a local prison, pending further investigation. It’s the point of the story where you wish that the storyline had been eked out over several episodes as (good though it is) it now has to be concluded in double quick time. And we’ve not yet mentioned the quite substantial secondary plot of today’s episode.

Quickly befriended by her cellmates, Denise (Helen Gill) and Maria (Souad Faress), Lisa is able to prove her identity to the resistance leader, Jan (Damian Thomas), and therefore joins the others in a daring escape attempt. Hmm, okay. As I’ve said, it’s a shame that events now move so fast and it’s also hard to swallow the fact that for about half an hour every evening all the German guards go off for a bite to eat, leaving the prison so deserted that it’s possible just to walk out. Presumably there’s no guards outside, or searchlights, or dogs, or barbed wire. Not much of a prison then.

Still, Gill and Faress do sketch their characters very deftly even though they’re not given that much to work with, and the fact that Denise and Maria don’t escape (and face being shot) helps to rachet up the tension levels even more.

While all this is going on, Gaston finds himself a prisoner of Kessler. There’s excellent work from James Bree, Clifford Rose and Maria Charles during these scenes. If Lisa’s escape never really seems in doubt, then it seems equally clear that poor old Gaston is doomed. Small touches – Gaston’s unshaved face, red-rimmed eyes and askew tie – all help to demonstrate his inner turmoil, even though Bree resists the attempt to go over the top.

Maria Charles does indulge in histrionics, but then Louise (Charles) has just been told that her husband, Gaston, has been shot by the Gestapo, so that’s understandable. Viktors Ritelis throws in a slightly showy, but effective, shot towards the end of the episode. A distressed Maria, wandering the street at night, stops to paint a red V for Victory sign. As she collapses, dragging her hands through the paint, we intercut to Gaston’s death scene again (which eerily mimicked this moment).

If one were being picky (and I can’t help it) you’d have to say that it’s very convenient that Lisa suddenly appears to find her aunt prostate on the floor. It’s also not clear why Kessler – having decided that Gaston is part of the escape line – decides not to question any of his closest relatives (Louise, Lisa).

And finally, it seems slightly strange that nobody interrogates Lisa when she’s in prison or checks out her story. So that when she destroys her file in the prison office, it appears that all records of her arrest are removed and the story is over. That’s obviously not right, as we saw Inspector Landre writing in his notebook, but this is conveniently forgotten.

But minor quibbles apart, this is a top notch episode. Yes, Lisa’s escape can’t help but feel contrived, but it’s contrasted by Gaston’s self-sacrifice (deliberately running towards a guard in the hope he’d be killed before undergoing interrogation).