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"Good
afternoon and welcome to the BBC News at One" Anna Ford begins
quite portentously. Once again the line-up has been shuffled and the Welfare
Benefits crackdown story assumes lead status. It is initially difficult
to understand its elevation in importance, unless the Government spin
machine has been at work to ensure a higher profile for their latest initiative
as the day has progressed. The tone of the One O'clock News is
less knowing then the 6am broadcast, and there is little or no overt editorialising.
Just about all the filmed reports are new, even when the story is much
the same. Ford's interviewing technique may ensure that difficult questions
are asked yet - throughout the several interviews she conducts over the
course of the half-hour - she displays no appetite to probe issues in
any depth. This is a news broadcast designed to be watched whilst you
are engaged in some other activity, and therefore, Anna does not wish
to complicate matters. Philip Avery's weather broadcast
is as innocuous as it has been all morning.
Adopting
the same general presentation as its parent programme, Reporting Scotland
struggles today with its top story (Blair's speech at the Scottish Parliament)
as interviewee David Porter is drowned out by a background noise of school
children. Traditional BBC reporter clichés abound (e.g. Talking
of Glasgow's "grey dawn breaking" in best Buerke style), still
this is a relatively brisk, inoffensive jaunt through Scottish news, with
a predictably Glasgow bias.
Neighbours
starts off with a reprise of a lame cliff-hanger. The patois and contrivance
betray this series has changed very little since I last tuned in. Though
easy to mock and lampoon, you must concede that Neighbours is a
televisual phenomenon - for a return on your investment, it is hard to
beat. Ozzie soap rules still apply (men on the pull consistently get put
down by strong willed ladies, and respect is demanded from everyone) and
as a vintage Neighbours watcher it is easy to spot recycled plot
lines and characters. Today's episode is mainly played for laughs as two
of the guys attempt to score some chick action by telling tall tales.
From kick-off it is evident they are heading for a fall. A local cricket
match is held, complete with female cricketer and inevitable sporting
montage as she hits run after run (to quite agreeable hoe-down background
music, which ultimately descends in to risible Oz rock). The Ramsay Street
team lose at the final ball, but there is no build up to this moment and
the episode is allowed to conclude as innocuously as it began.
Quincy
is shoehorned into the Kick The Habit season. Typical dramatic contrivances
abound as the good doctor finds himself appearing on a chat show with
a major promoter of an evil crash diet. Why is it TV dramas cannot "do"
realistic looking TV programmes? Predictably, Quincy loses his cool on
the chat show (in fine style it has to be said), and the episode begins
to play out a rather interesting argument regarding the integrity of the
individual versus the integrity of his work, quickly followed by a debate
on the First Amendment (as Quincy discovers he cannot outlaw a dieting
book that he believes to be dangerous). Quincy finds himself in court
attempting to prove that his latest slab victim died as a result of the
"All Pro" diet, but losing that particular bout he is challenged
to reappear on said chat show to retract his criticisms of crash dieting.
However, when one of the diet-ees appears on the show and collapses, Quincy's
battle is won for him. A rather convenient and underwhelming conclusion.
Still, this has been the most pleasant surprise of the day so far.
In Orain agus
Rannan the lack of subtitles makes it very difficult to understand
what is going on, but the first of these short Gaelic children's programmes
seems to have something to do with watches and time. Conspicuously the
backdrop for this programme is rugged, rural and Scottish (complete with
fishing boat). Unpleasantly hatted presenters also seems to be something
particularly peculiar to Gaelic programming. Coinneach
is an animated adventure of a young boy dreaming of going to the circus.
Adequately animated, it would probably stand translation to any language
as there appears to be nothing intrinsically Gaelic about the titular
toddler. Predictably, this is a cartoon with a message: Coinneach employs
his imagination to create a pretend circus in his own home, and thus we
leave him, a contented soul.
Dotaman
is one of the mainstays of BBC Gaelic broadcasting, Play School
in another language. Once again a crazy hatted presenter embarrasses themselves
enthusing over a picnic hamper. While the studio resembles the mighty
'School with its stark blue simplicity, the ubiquitous fishing
boat still manages to make an appearance. A quick song followed by a story
ensure that the Cant/Benjamin/Griffiths/Ball mould is never once broken.
Animated froggy adventures in An Doingealan
bring to a conclusion today's Gaelic broadcast.
Michael and Emlyn (some kind of bizarre
puppet) kick off Children's BBC proceedings at
high speed before the Tweenies appear and dive straight in with
a Hi-NRG number. It is difficult to work out exactly what the Tweenies
are meant to be, where they live or what's going on. In this particular
episode they are enjoying the wind, when old Tweenie Max gives them a
Riverdance version of Michael Finnigan. The arbitrary filmed insert of
children doing something (in this case flying kites) follows, and the
programme ends with Max reading a story to the other Tweenies. Infants'
TV has changed very little since Pipkins. Except Inigo's programme
never ended with a URL.
With a theme
tune that is surely a rip off of Animaniacs, Pocket Dragon Adventures
appears to exploit the cute Godzooky type characters that were always
beloved of your sister. Some of the jokes here are relatively mature requiring
the viewer to have some familiarity with the Western genre as well as
an understanding of what insomniac means. The workmanlike computer-driven
animation is set in an Arthurian backdrop, and revolves around a pair
of glasses being worn by Specs (one of the pocket dragons) that causes
him to suffer from delusions. None of the Pocket Dragons possess an interesting
enough personality to make them stand out in this unremarkable cartoon
series. Scrappy Doo and the New Shmoo will not feel too threatened
by this bunch (worse luck).
Michael and Emlyn squash the end credits
to illegibility and a yellow banner at the foot of the screen emblazons
their e-mail address and fax number. Interestingly, this pair pass little
or no comment on the programmes they are introducing. Hububb
stars Les, some kind of cycle courier. Over the top sound effects accompany
Les and Mikey's increasingly bizarre conversation which before we know
it leads in to some kind of James Bond spoof, with Les daydreaming he
is a diamond thief. This is zany and crazy but fails to be funny at any
point. It does - however - revisit a common children's TV theme - that
of the power of imagination. So ultimately worthy I suppose.
Rotten
Ralph is an ugly claymation of a programme this is about a horrible
cat and is therefore probably popular with the kids. The fact that he's
a wise cracking kind of feline (like a manic Garfield) who finds
his family's activities boring makes him positively heroic from a child's
point of view. Like much of the output of CBBC thus far, there
is something very insubstantial - yet garish - about this offering, and
at times Ralph is also a little reminiscent of Charlie (from the '70s
Public Information Films). The usually annoying squashing of the end credits
is a merciful relief.
But what's this? For no reason Live
& Kicking's Steve Wilson has occupied the CBBC studios instead
of Michael (who didn't even get a chance to say "Goodbye") and
cues Home Farm Twins. In contrast to
the above, this looks a lot more wholesome. John Dower lushly directs
Jeremy Front's adaptation of Jenny Oldfield's book which today concerns
an abandoned pony discovered by David Moore and his twin daughters on
a camping expedition. Bright colours still abound, but here at last is
something approaching naturalism. The twins themselves are rather irritating,
particularly with their over enthusiastic back of the car singing, and
silly old dad has predictable difficulty erecting a tent. Still this is
inoffensive stuff, with luscious shots of woodland complete with penetrating
shafts of sunlight. Sadly, it ends before it ever really gets going.
Short
Change forms part of the Kick The Habit initiative and is the first
of today's "pretend grown-up" programmes. Presenters Otis (I
thought that was the Aardvark) and Kirsten O'Brien populate the Short
Change office making it clear that this is basically junior-Watchdog.
The first item concerns two kids who were thrown out of a shopping centre
for wearing school uniform. The manager's apology is awkward and badly
framed. From here on in its déjà vu all the way. Rhodri
Owen's investigation of Pokémon trading cards is a timeless
item - just replace Pokémon with any craze over the last twenty-five
years and the content of the report remains the same. A report on under
age smoking also re-heats an age-old issue (complete with kids being sent
in to shops to try and buy cigarettes). Then it's fan clubs, and by now
memories of Saturday Superstore's consumer features are paramount
in the mind. Are the viewers being short-changed? I suppose not; most
of the issues covered remain relevant, and it is doubtful whether many
of the intended target audience recall the crusading zeal of Jackie Gunn.
Newsround
has gone all MTV News since I last checked it out and looks as
if grown up reporters have been completely abandoned. Though the content
of the first report on Mozambique retains the earnest style resplendent
of the BBC, alarmingly a significant chunk of the programme is occupied
with reader's e-mails. Not news surely? Though stripped of all economic
and political stories, much of the programme successfully adheres to today's
BBC news agenda.
Grange
Hill is the latest edition of today's oldest programme. For those
of you who don't know, Grange Hill looks quite plush these days
- yet a lot of the concerns remain the same. So we have a "Tegs"
character (abandoned by his parents) and yet another teacher-pupil relationship
on the boil. However, the most characteristic thing about Grange Hill
2000, is just how much it short-changes its viewers (quick call Kirsten).
Writer Judy Forshaw attempts to write TV that the kids won't be embarrassed
to watch. Yet, structurally Grange Hill is all over the shop. I
would defy anybody to be able to track how much time passes over the course
of the episode, as scene after scene plays out with little reference to
time or space. The makers of Grange Hill have obviously guessed
that kid's have difficulty keeping up with "adult drama", therefore,
such confusion in their own programmes will obviously be accepted as an
indicator that what they are watching is "grown up".
This is particularly apparent in the
conclusion to this episode, involving the discovery of some bones on a
camping trip. Our heroes' immediate reaction is to contact the police,
but this decision is not preceded by any kind of discussion as to exactly
what they've found, or even a cursory attempt to confirm that their discovery
is indeed what they assume it to be. Then it gets worse. The splitting
of the group (with the majority heading off to contact the authorities)
allows two of the characters the privacy to establish a bond, obviously
essential to the furtherance of this year's main story. Yet upon the return
of the others there is no mention as to whether or not they actually contacted
anyone, or what the next step should be. The development of the plot line
has been completed, and therefore the contrivance, which split the group
in the first place, appears able to be completely discarded. One suspects
that writers are briefed as to the required movement in the series plot
but are advised that these can be achieved in any manner.
So CBBC concludes for the day
with a trailer for Live & Kicking, and some more boring letters
and e-mails from viewers. Curiously (as once pointed out on an edition
of Points of View) the 5.35pm episode of Neighbours is still
billed as lasting five minutes longer then the earlier edition.
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