I'm wondering about the source for the Times' story on BBC cutbacks. Is it as 24 carat as Rawnsley's source for Bruiser Brown, or are Murdoch's henchpersons merely flying a kite? It would be a dark day for broadcasting and choice (Remember that? The thing that free markets were supposed to bring us?) if either 6Music or the Asian Network closed.
Even if you listen to neither, the fact that they exist is important. If we let either go, it's the thin end of the wedge. Pastor Niemoller's advice applies. When the barbarians come for BBC4, its viewers will be on our own. People who regard the licence fee as an acceptable tithe for civilisation, not an unfair tax, really need to stand out for this issue from the outset. Both stations are run on tiny budgets. 6Music is run on £6m a year. I'd love to know how much Big Top cost the Corporation. Is anyone saying "Don't make sitcoms starring Amanda Holden, as it's a misuse of public money if they tank"? Perhaps they should.
Quite apart from the Times' obvious bias, we also see the Grauniad barely able to contain its glee. That'll be the same Guardian that owns the Real Radio, Smooth Radio and Rock Radio brands, as well as the Guardian Unlimited online news service. Funny, that.
The BBC's critics seem very muddled. The Corporation can't compete with the commercial sector, nor can it provide distinctive niche services. What exactly can it do? Maybe it should start by growing a pair and saying "We're the BBC. This is what we do. Got a problem with that, Rupert?".
What others have said: "Shite!" - Jon Gaunt "WARNING. Has written offensive material online. Avoid." Nick Conrad
Friday, February 26, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
Davies (Alan) at Large
Of all the celebrities on Twitter, Alan Davies (@alandavies1, should anyone be wondering) is by far the most interesting. Not because of what he himself says, which is usually something about Arsenal, but because of his modus operandi, particularly with regard to re-tweeting. For the uninitiated, this is when you take a tweet written by someone else and forward it to everybody following you.
Davies has built a career from his regular guy/affable eejit persona (good luck to him - I wish I could find a niche that didn't pay atrociously), but many who've worked with him or otherwise encountered him have found him less than affable. Me included. I met him once at a Jane Goldman book launch, and received a withering tirade about the evils of journalism and journalists, even trade press hacks who were just there to neck a few canapes and write an innocuous 'guests included' paragraph for the dreary, sorry, diary column. Seemingly, he didn't realise that, had I been the vindictive sort of journalist, he'd have been giving me plenty of ammunition to give him another unfavourable bit of coverage. I wasn't, so I just thought "what an appallingly rude man". Or words to that effect.
Last week, a friend of mine asked on Twitter "Anyone got a story about Alan Davies where he doesn't come across as a complete prick? ...Anyone?". This was then re-tweeted by Davies. The aforementioned friend then received a number of messages from some of Davies' followers.
Some of my chum's replies came from people who appear not to read Davies' tweets properly. The "If you can't say something nice, say nothing" tweeter seems not to have noticed Davies posting messages like "@alandavies1 Can you get a JLS punchbag? Why not? Just photos of all those great boys, but on a bag you can punch?".
When I picked up on my friend's situation, I sent him a message: "So, how does this work? You say something critical about @alandavies1 and a bunch of fuckwits start following you? Coincidence?". The word 'critical' was a carefully-placed red herring (or even a QI-style elephant trap), as neither my friend nor I had actually said anything critical about Davies. We had merely asked questions. My message was re-tweeted by Davies within minutes.
Another friend of mine picked up on the situation and offered moral support. I explained what was going on, copying Davies in.
Curiously, Davies retweeted none of the above. I didn't receive any direct responses, but plenty of Davies' followers replied to him with messages along the lines of "Why are all these beastly people so mean to our favourite curly-mopped funster?", the followers not actually noticing that I hadn't actually been mean to him. I was particularly amused by "Thanks for the @cheeseford RT. Good to know who the prats are, out there on the Twitter fringes. All the best." Out here on the Twitter fringes would have been more accurate, as the Twitterer in question is no closer to the epicentre than I am. Maybe he thinks he's at the throbbing heart of power because he follows some bloke from a panel game. He isn't.
One exchange was interesting:
Anonymous? Well, that's me and my mate in the clear, as our real names are at the tops of our Twitter pages. Oddly, he doesn't seem anywhere near as dismissive of praise from people who tweet under names other than the ones on their birth certificate. The "ludicrous" Telegraph article? Decide for yourself. Personally, I think it's perfectly fair. I might feel different if it had been written about me, but I try not to do things that get me written about (apart from book reviews). It's the "don't shoot the messenger" that intrigues me most, though. He's saying "Hey, I just pass it on", but as we've seen, he re-tweets selectively, and it always seems to be the stuff that could look, if you were in a hurry or not very good at reading comprehension, like someone was having a go at him. This raises the question "Why does he re-tweet these messages?". Or rather why he re-tweets some messages, but not others. Could it be that he realises he has an army of adoring fans who think he can do no wrong, quite likes it, and knows how to play on their loyalty? Nah, he's TV's top tousle-haired affable eejit regular guy. He wouldn't do that. Would he?
Davies has built a career from his regular guy/affable eejit persona (good luck to him - I wish I could find a niche that didn't pay atrociously), but many who've worked with him or otherwise encountered him have found him less than affable. Me included. I met him once at a Jane Goldman book launch, and received a withering tirade about the evils of journalism and journalists, even trade press hacks who were just there to neck a few canapes and write an innocuous 'guests included' paragraph for the dreary, sorry, diary column. Seemingly, he didn't realise that, had I been the vindictive sort of journalist, he'd have been giving me plenty of ammunition to give him another unfavourable bit of coverage. I wasn't, so I just thought "what an appallingly rude man". Or words to that effect.
Last week, a friend of mine asked on Twitter "Anyone got a story about Alan Davies where he doesn't come across as a complete prick? ...Anyone?". This was then re-tweeted by Davies. The aforementioned friend then received a number of messages from some of Davies' followers.
- just shut up.
- I interviewed him at a charity event at Emirates Stadium a couple of years ago and he was a thoroughly nice chap
- no, but that's the genius of it, making a living out of being a complete prick. That only happens with politicians, celebs and Alan
- No i haven't, has anyone got a story about you being a complete prick? is there any need to be offensive?
- i don't have any storys about him but he comes across as charismatic, funny and positive.....unlike you !
- well I interviewed him on my show and he was perfectly charming.
- Aw what?! Alan Davies is a legend!!!
- nope
- I could write one, aside from being a Gooner he seems OK to me.
- I once bumped into him (quite literally) as I was walking out of a Bill Bailey show. He said hello! he did ignore a direct msg i sent yesterday for some big big help i need. that does not actually make him a prick
- That time he retweeted you so his large fanbase can have a laugh at your expense ;)
- Ouch!
- Hv u tried @alandavies1 He might have 1?
- that isnt nice at all, would you actually say that to his face? if you cant say something nice, then say nothing! (@alandavies1)
- Yes thanks. @alandavies1 is a top fella.
- but really, he's a lovely man. Said hi to him at the DB10 testimonial and he replied nicely.
- Now that's a tricky one...
- yes, i was begging for change once and he bit me on the nose. it was for my own good like, he popped a spot for me with his teeth.
Some of my chum's replies came from people who appear not to read Davies' tweets properly. The "If you can't say something nice, say nothing" tweeter seems not to have noticed Davies posting messages like "@alandavies1 Can you get a JLS punchbag? Why not? Just photos of all those great boys, but on a bag you can punch?".
When I picked up on my friend's situation, I sent him a message: "So, how does this work? You say something critical about @alandavies1 and a bunch of fuckwits start following you? Coincidence?". The word 'critical' was a carefully-placed red herring (or even a QI-style elephant trap), as neither my friend nor I had actually said anything critical about Davies. We had merely asked questions. My message was re-tweeted by Davies within minutes.
Another friend of mine picked up on the situation and offered moral support. I explained what was going on, copying Davies in.
- @alandavies1 has retweeted it and 1 of his followers is now following me. Here's hoping he's not a fuckwit.
I'm hoping to disprove someone else's suggestion that @alandavies1 uses his fans as a sort of Praetorian (Twittorian?) Guard.
If @alandavies1 did, it would be quite cowardly, very twatty and not a little needy, don't you think? Let's hope he doesn't.
Curiously, Davies retweeted none of the above. I didn't receive any direct responses, but plenty of Davies' followers replied to him with messages along the lines of "Why are all these beastly people so mean to our favourite curly-mopped funster?", the followers not actually noticing that I hadn't actually been mean to him. I was particularly amused by "Thanks for the @cheeseford RT. Good to know who the prats are, out there on the Twitter fringes. All the best." Out here on the Twitter fringes would have been more accurate, as the Twitterer in question is no closer to the epicentre than I am. Maybe he thinks he's at the throbbing heart of power because he follows some bloke from a panel game. He isn't.
One exchange was interesting:
- - @alandavies1 Thanks for the C-word RT. :-}
- don't shoot the messenger...just the sort of stuff that comes in daily. And I'm supposed to be the rabble rouser on here...
- @alandavies1 There are so many dorks out there. Water off a duck's back I hope?
- Yes. It's been a relentless campaign of libellous blogging & anonymous tweeting with the odd ludicrous article in the Telegraph
Anonymous? Well, that's me and my mate in the clear, as our real names are at the tops of our Twitter pages. Oddly, he doesn't seem anywhere near as dismissive of praise from people who tweet under names other than the ones on their birth certificate. The "ludicrous" Telegraph article? Decide for yourself. Personally, I think it's perfectly fair. I might feel different if it had been written about me, but I try not to do things that get me written about (apart from book reviews). It's the "don't shoot the messenger" that intrigues me most, though. He's saying "Hey, I just pass it on", but as we've seen, he re-tweets selectively, and it always seems to be the stuff that could look, if you were in a hurry or not very good at reading comprehension, like someone was having a go at him. This raises the question "Why does he re-tweet these messages?". Or rather why he re-tweets some messages, but not others. Could it be that he realises he has an army of adoring fans who think he can do no wrong, quite likes it, and knows how to play on their loyalty? Nah, he's TV's top tousle-haired affable eejit regular guy. He wouldn't do that. Would he?
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Chance would be a fine thing (slight return)
Having mentioned that the untransmitted pilot of Chance in a Million was on the new DVD, I was asked elsewhere how the two versions differed. So, here goes. The first half of the pilot Plumstones and the tx version are identical. However, the second half was completely re-shot, indeed recast, and the plot differs considerably. The transmitted version is a much more interesting and satisfying experience, with the absence of the laboured food fight and the neat tying up of the various coincidences with the revelation of the waiter's identity. So we have:
Different recording of the theme tune, presumably pre-existing commercial recording on pilot, with glaring edit to fit the on-screen movement. Pilot has noticeable head-switching, so assume it's from VHS. Pilot has Thames ident, transmitted version doesn't.
Scene 1: Hotel - identical on both versions.
Scene 2: Street - woman locked out of car - identical on both versions.
Scene 3: Street - policemen apologising - identical on both versions
Scene 4: Street - identical on both versions, until "Make a run for it?/Yes"
- Cuts straight to part 2 on transmitted version.
- Pilot runs 20 seconds longer, with 'End of Part One' caption, over locked-out woman and husband chasing Tom's car, with sting from Ted Heath's Decca recording of Taking a Chance on Love, then VT clock for part 2.
Scene 5: Restaurant - different takes, indeed sets completely different.
- Longer chat with maitre d' on the pilot - "Special table? Ah, you are special people".
- Maitre d' brusque on the transmitted version - no special people, just "This way".
- Waiter takes drink order on pilot, transmitted version cuts straight to table after several pints of lager had been drunk.
- Waiter - Brian Croucher on pilot, Paul Chapman on transmitted version - brings more drinks on both versions. Keeps pint of lager for self on transmitted version.
- On pilot, Alison drinks wine - confusion over glasses, she gets Tom's lager. On transmitted version, she drinks lager too.
- Dialogue substantially identical.
- Conversation at table largely two-shot in pilot, but individual close-ups on transmitted version.
- A couple of lines cut on transmitted version when summoning waiter.
- Pilot "You want soup in soixante seconds?" - transmitted version "You want soup in sixty seconds?".
- On pilot, waiter spills soup on Tom's lap, very deliberately. On transmitted version, waiter spills soup on Alison's lap, obviously an accident. “If it was deliberate, I would have done it like this”. On pilot, maitre d' breaks Tom and waiter apart. Tom responds by smearing food on waiter's head, then pouring gravy in maitre d's pockets. Maitre d' responds by asking for the sweet trolley and starting a long food fight with Tom. Cutaways to laughing diners. When waiter puts ice down Alison's blouse, Tom announces they're leaving. They do to applause from diners. In waiters' changing room, it emerges that “special people...special table” is code for slapstick - “You are from the Sarah Bernhard School of Drama?” “No” “Oh...”.
- On transmitted version, maitre d' passes and asks if Tom and Alison are enjoying their meal. Tom says waiter can say what he has to say to his face. Waiter plants custard pie on Tom's face. Cuts to changing room, with maitre d' apologising, but admitting it was a mistake to taunt the waiter so close to the sweet trolley. Waiter – now sacked - comes in. It emerges that he's the lover of the woman locked out of the car earlier.
Scene 6: Outside Tom's house
– pilot has short bit of dialogue from Alison about not wanting to miss tonight for anything. “I've really enjoyed myself, in a way”.
- Obviously studio set.
- Transmitted version on location
- Both end with Alison climbing in through open window. In pilot, it's the lavatory (“Mind the cistern”). In transmitted version, just the window next to the front door. Both versions end with policeman shining torch on Tom and Alison, and Tom's line “Alison, I think you'd better come out now. (I think) We've just hit (found) another plumstone”.
Some people credited on pilot not credited on transmitted version. Most notable is the designer credit – Alison Waugh on pilot, Peter Elliott on transmitted version, despite pilot hotel scenes being re-used.
The transmitted version runs 25m 6s, the pilot runs 29m 20s, although a minute is taken up by the ident, black level and the VT clock into part 2.
Different recording of the theme tune, presumably pre-existing commercial recording on pilot, with glaring edit to fit the on-screen movement. Pilot has noticeable head-switching, so assume it's from VHS. Pilot has Thames ident, transmitted version doesn't.
Scene 1: Hotel - identical on both versions.
Scene 2: Street - woman locked out of car - identical on both versions.
Scene 3: Street - policemen apologising - identical on both versions
Scene 4: Street - identical on both versions, until "Make a run for it?/Yes"
- Cuts straight to part 2 on transmitted version.
- Pilot runs 20 seconds longer, with 'End of Part One' caption, over locked-out woman and husband chasing Tom's car, with sting from Ted Heath's Decca recording of Taking a Chance on Love, then VT clock for part 2.
Scene 5: Restaurant - different takes, indeed sets completely different.
- Longer chat with maitre d' on the pilot - "Special table? Ah, you are special people".
- Maitre d' brusque on the transmitted version - no special people, just "This way".
- Waiter takes drink order on pilot, transmitted version cuts straight to table after several pints of lager had been drunk.
- Waiter - Brian Croucher on pilot, Paul Chapman on transmitted version - brings more drinks on both versions. Keeps pint of lager for self on transmitted version.
- On pilot, Alison drinks wine - confusion over glasses, she gets Tom's lager. On transmitted version, she drinks lager too.
- Dialogue substantially identical.
- Conversation at table largely two-shot in pilot, but individual close-ups on transmitted version.
- A couple of lines cut on transmitted version when summoning waiter.
- Pilot "You want soup in soixante seconds?" - transmitted version "You want soup in sixty seconds?".
- On pilot, waiter spills soup on Tom's lap, very deliberately. On transmitted version, waiter spills soup on Alison's lap, obviously an accident. “If it was deliberate, I would have done it like this”. On pilot, maitre d' breaks Tom and waiter apart. Tom responds by smearing food on waiter's head, then pouring gravy in maitre d's pockets. Maitre d' responds by asking for the sweet trolley and starting a long food fight with Tom. Cutaways to laughing diners. When waiter puts ice down Alison's blouse, Tom announces they're leaving. They do to applause from diners. In waiters' changing room, it emerges that “special people...special table” is code for slapstick - “You are from the Sarah Bernhard School of Drama?” “No” “Oh...”.
- On transmitted version, maitre d' passes and asks if Tom and Alison are enjoying their meal. Tom says waiter can say what he has to say to his face. Waiter plants custard pie on Tom's face. Cuts to changing room, with maitre d' apologising, but admitting it was a mistake to taunt the waiter so close to the sweet trolley. Waiter – now sacked - comes in. It emerges that he's the lover of the woman locked out of the car earlier.
Scene 6: Outside Tom's house
– pilot has short bit of dialogue from Alison about not wanting to miss tonight for anything. “I've really enjoyed myself, in a way”.
- Obviously studio set.
- Transmitted version on location
- Both end with Alison climbing in through open window. In pilot, it's the lavatory (“Mind the cistern”). In transmitted version, just the window next to the front door. Both versions end with policeman shining torch on Tom and Alison, and Tom's line “Alison, I think you'd better come out now. (I think) We've just hit (found) another plumstone”.
Some people credited on pilot not credited on transmitted version. Most notable is the designer credit – Alison Waugh on pilot, Peter Elliott on transmitted version, despite pilot hotel scenes being re-used.
The transmitted version runs 25m 6s, the pilot runs 29m 20s, although a minute is taken up by the ident, black level and the VT clock into part 2.
The Wogun Inheritance
While it's splendid to have Sir Terry Wogan back on Radio 2, it's a pity that Michael Ball's Sunday Supplement had to go to make way for the Togmeister's return. Couldn't Steve Wright's Sunday Love (the Show) Songs have been sacrificed painlessly, allowing Ball to move to the earlier slot?
Chance would be a fine thing
I've just finished a review for the Oldie of the soon-come DVD of Chance in a Million series 1. For the uninitiated, it was a sublime yet subtle send-up of sitcom conventions, starring the splendid Simon Callow as a man plagued by coincidences and Brenda Blethyn as his loyal librarian girlfriend. Subtle? Yes, for all of its satirical intent, it could also just about be taken on face value as a pure sitcom, and probably was by many viewers when ITV repeated it a few months after it had premiered on Channel 4. At one point in the first series, it was 4's 4th most popular programme, its 3.1 million viewers putting it just behind International Snooker and the two mid-week editions of Brookside. My 11-year-old self adored it from the first bar of the theme tune, a Ronnie 'Two Pianos' Aldrich arrangement of 'Taking a Chance On Love', and my 36-year-old self adores it no less. I'm still trying to work out which I love more out of Ms Blethyn or the character she plays, an outwardly timorous yet seethingly passionate specimen of womanhood. When I first met young Masterton in a radio dungeon beneath the Psychology department at Lancaster nearly 20 years ago, a shared love of the series was one of the things that sealed our friendship. Anyway, it's great to have it on a shiny disc (to say nothing of the untransmitted pilot version of episode 1 'Plumstones'), even if the ad break captions are missing. It's a small point, but the jump cuts from part 1 to part 2 really jar with me. Even though I've watched it all many times, one line still made me guffaw earlier. Playing a paratrooper on a treasure hunt, the late Jeremy Sinden remarks on the extreme unlikelihood of finding the requested nude picture of Shirley Williams that "I know one of the lads is prepared to give it a go with chloroform and a Polaroid". Maybe it's the rhythm, maybe it's the choice of words (hats off to Andrew Norriss and Richard Fegen for the gleeful scripts), maybe it's the image. Maybe it's all of the above. Certainly it's funny.