Radio 1 has generally had little faith in its comedy output. It tends to mistrust speech comedy, seeing it as an intrusion - it is, after all, a music station, dammit. Comedy has its place on the airwaves, but it mustn’t get in the way of that exclusive live set by The Chemical Brothers. It has always been this way, of course - from Kenny Everett to Chris Morris, Radio 1 has reluctantly opened its doors to comedian/DJ hybrids, but has shirked away from speech comedy itself. This is a depressing situation, for reasons we’ll come onto, but it’s also a bizarre stance to take. Why? Because in the brief period (let’s say 1988-93) when Radio 1 dared to experiment, it produced some of the finest radio comedy ever broadcast. Masterpieces from that era include Lee & Herring’s Fist Of Fun, Victor Lewis Smith, Loose Talk, and, most valuable and under-rated of all, The Mary Whitehouse Experience.The Mary Whitehouse Experience was developed following Hey Rrradio!!!, which began in 1988. Hosted by Patrick Marber, Hey Rrradio!!! was Radio 1’s first foray into speech comedy, and naturally enough had an unadventurous brief: it simply attempted to capture the current stand-up scene, and set its microphones up at comedy venue The Woolwich Tramshed in order to do this. It was a fresh and likeable show, largely due to its no-nonsense format and intimate setting. It was also fortunate that the late 1980s saw a particularly good crop of stand-up comedians, all trying out their acts at a time before stand-up became the career-based, audience-pleasing occupation of the wannabe rock star that it is today. Nick Hancock opened the first show, and subsequent editions featured Steve Punt and Hugh Dennis, Phil Cornwell, Jo Brand (then going under the pseudonym ‘The Sea Monster’), and John Hegley, who appeared each week with his backing group The Popticians.The main weakness was Marber, who was totally unsuited to the kind of avuncular showmanship that the role of compere (even in a raucous stand-up environment) demanded. His delivery was often excruciatingly badly-timed and he seemed constantly nervous. However, this may have had something to do with the fact that he wasn’t using his own material - most of it was written by two young stand-ups moonlighting as comedy writers: David Baddiel and Rob Newman. When Hey Rrradio!!! had run its course, Radio 1 decided to develop a comedy series which would not only showcase comedians, but also possess an in-house style and shape of its own. Baddiel and Newman had agents behind them, and had done their stint at Week Ending and Spitting Image. Punt and Dennis had done the same, and were also familiar as performers following their work on Carrott Confidential and knew how to work under pressure following their (needlessly) live Radio 4 series Live On Arrival. These four were viewed as talented, but - more to the point - reliably so, capable of providing good quality topical material on demand. It was clear that they would dominate the team. Mark Thomas and Jo Brand were brought in on the understanding that they would perform guest-spots to break up the show. A musical interlude was also planned, courtesy of duo Skint Video. This eight-strong team became the show’s first line-up. Bill Dare (son of actor Peter Jones) produced the untransmitted pilot, and the first two series. The first open-ended run began on 7 April 1989 and the slot, indicative of Radio 1’s cynicism about the project, was midnight on Fridays. From its early episodes, few of the contributors involved had much faith in it (Dennis didn’t give up his day job at an aerosol factory until the second series), and it was clear there was little planning regarding the content of the show. They agreed that the show should be topical, but this was largely because this was a genre of which they had the most experience, and it seemed natural to continue this way until they found their feet. The show’s title was merely a collection of unconnected words (in the spirit of Monty Python’s Flying Circus), although the inclusion of Mrs Whitehouse’s name perhaps hinted that the show would wear its controversy on its sleeve. In fact, the use of the name aroused genuine fears at the BBC that Whitehouse may take legal action; so much so that, in one early show, Baddiel recorded an alternate version of the theme music and end credits as ‘The William Rees-Mogg Experience’. Steve Punt shrugged off the fears, telling the audience that ‘basically, she hasn’t got a case’, but Bill Dare was unconvinced, confessing that ‘I’m more scared of Mary Whitehouse than I am of Steve Punt’. This alternative title was in fact never used, although the substitution of other words or constructions (‘The Crime Experience’, ‘The School Experience’) quickly became a useful gimmick for the show, allowing their fusions of sketch and stand-up to be presented under very clear banners. The programme’s theme music (adapted from Hithouse’s then-current acid house track, ‘Jack To The Sound Of The Underground’) began with the words ‘Picture this...a recording studio far, far away’. Hithouse had then announced ‘It’s time for house’, but on the show they got as far as ‘It’s time for...’ before Baddiel announced: ‘The Mary Whitehouse Experience!’ The show generally opened with Baddiel doing a quick opening gag, before introducing a round-up of the week’s news from Punt and Dennis. Aside from the independent stand-up sets from Thomas and Brand (and Skint Video’s song), the programme usually featured a couple of routines from the two double acts. These were generally less topical, although they were generally inspired by a news story. Such routines usually involved Punt or Baddiel delivering stand-up material, which would then link into sub-sketches involving the other performers. There was also ‘The Punchline Competition’, where the studio audience would scribble answers to a question put to them before the recording. At the close of the show, the entire team would take part in a finale number - in the first series, this was an excellent sitcom parody called ‘All Cosy At Home In The Family House’. Each show was recorded, on the Wednesdays before transmission, at The Paris (the BBC’s old radio theatre) in London’s Lower Regent Street. The presentation of the show was innovative: rather than ending each section with applause, Dare decided instead to insert stings of the theme music between each segment. To that end, the listener could leave Baddiel’s routine at a strong punchline, and immediately arrive bang in the middle of Thomas’ set. The effect was almost like a stylus landing randomly at various points on an LP, and this technique gave the show a perfect balance between anarchy and care. This device was an original and honest one: Dare was making no secret of the fact that a thirty-minute radio show is essentially a compilation of the best bits from a long recording session, and he evidently believed it should be presented as such. However, the main revolutionary factor in The Mary Whitehouse Experience was the content itself, which was unlike any other comedy being broadcast at that time. Many inferior comedy shows have claimed to exhibit ‘a sense of danger’, but - with The Mary Whitehouse Experience - such a claim was credible. This wasn’t so much to do with the level of profanities in each show (although there were many - the liberated references to masturbation, cancer and The Royal Family were genuinely ground-breaking), but more to do with the atmosphere of the programme. It was dominated by an extraordinary feeling of cynicism and contempt for the world, most notably from Baddiel, with his bellowing delivery and habit of over-stressing words for which he had no time (a device he admits he ‘stole wholesale’ from Nick Hancock). The main joy with Baddiel’s contributions was his clear contempt for the idea of commenting on news events, expressing - through sneering alone - his obvious dismay for the stories’ lack of impact on his own life. (Unlike other comedians of the time, Baddiel never pretended to give a fuck about the Ambulance Workers’ dispute.) Punt was also capable of credible vitriol, but his main asset was the quality of his writing, which was polished and densely-constructed without ever being stale or forced. Newman and Dennis were superb as actors or impressionists, their performances demonstrating a complete understanding of (and enthusiasm for) the scripts. Being the first show of its kind on BBC radio, it got away with risqué material simply because there was no code of conduct explaining what was and wasn’t acceptable. With no publicity, and very little audience feedback, the only tactic was to broadcast and be damned. In the end, Mark Thomas and Jo Brand didn’t simply perform their stand-up acts. Instead, they developed personae which gave their sections a style of their own. Thomas would discuss a topical issue before thrusting a radio mic into audience members’ faces and asking their opinions. If they failed to respond, Thomas was not backward with his anger (‘You thick bastards!’). Brand presented ‘The Press Review Experience’, where she took a different magazine each week and poured scorn over it. This section was evidently co-written by Baddiel (reviewing Metal Hammer, she spoke of Led Zeppelin’s Greatest Achievements - ‘Bringing the potato to England, inventing the wheel, and standing up for an hour in 1981’), but Brand’s early stage voice - a deadpan rise-and-fall delivery, enlikened to a newsreader reading out football scores, which she later claimed was a result of her nervousness with the audience - lended itself to the material very well, creating a stage character that seemed genuinely psychotic and bitter. Skint Video usually took a pop song and sung it with new lyrics pertaining to topical events - they were usually appalling, but their enthusiasm (and brevity) made their presence in the show largely inoffensive The second show of the first series captures the state of play at this time, and features a sketch about J.R. Hartley (of Yellow Pages fame) who had gone into hiding after receiving a fatwa, Rushdie-like, following his publication of his book on fly-fishing. What made this item work so well is not so much the idea itself, but the confidence with which it’s performed and the tightness with which the team deal with a silly idea. Here, an interviewer (Punt) interrogates Hartley (Dennis) on his actions: INTERVIEWER Now people have said, Mr Hartley, that you deliberately inserted the section about snap-reel casting rods, knowing that it would incite the Ayatollah and therefore create publicity for your book.HARTLEY Er...who’s been saying that? INTERVIEWER Roald Dahl. HARTLEY I refuse to be vilified by a type of Indian food. INTERVIEWER Are you going to apologise to the millions of Muslims who are, at present, baying for your blood? HARTLEY No-oooo, I’m going to put an advert in The Koran that says ‘The Ayatollah is a poof’. Of course I’m bloody going to apologise. INTERVIEWERAnd where are you going to hide? HARTLEY 19 Berry Lane, Codicut. (Pause) Oh bugger. What’s delightful about this exchange is the sheer obviousness of it, coupled with Punt and Dennis’ obvious disinterest in the news story itself. They take relish in the I’m Sorry I’ll Read That Again-esque pun, and with the genuine shock-value of certain lines (calling the Ayatollah a poof seemed dangerous in 1989, even if it clearly wasn’t a problem for the BBC). The rushes of this show indicate that the recording sessions weren’t as reckless as the edited shows suggest, with the team professionally canning the episode within 50 minutes. However, they also reveal Dare’s skills as an editor, with many surplus lines being pruned without ever losing any amusing incongruities. However, the real spirit of the show was in the less topical sections, where the team dealt with more empirical material. By far the strongest routine in the first series was ‘The Exam Experience’. Dennis parodied the exam technique of filling up four sides when you only know two facts (‘English people produced various goods which they exported - primarily overseas...’), and the pair demonstrated an insight into realistic biology practicals: DENNIS Object of experiment - to mix the mauve stuff with the smelly yellow stuff. We put the mauve stuff into a test-tube and held it over a Bunsen burner. The test tube broke. Er...so we poured some on the desk, to see what it would do. The desk disintegrated, half the class are now blinded, and I’m writing this with my one remaining hand.The first series continued into the summer of 1989, although it often disappeared occasionally and was replaced with repeats (reasons for which remain unclear). After a brief absence, it returned on the August with a second series, destined to run for nine shows until 6 October. The timeslot remained the same, although certain cast changes were made. Nick Hancock stepped into Mark Thomas’ shoes, and Donna MacPhail replaced Jo Brand as the token female performer. (The show on 1 September, however, was performed to a lukewarm crowd at The Edinburgh Festival, and saw Thomas and Brand momentarily reunited with the team.) Skint Video were occasionally present, although The Tracy Brothers (a far funnier duo) often appeared instead. Generally, the style was the same, although the performances seemed more confident and there was thankfully less emphasis on topical satire. Instead of All Cosy At Home, each show ended either with a game of Dungeons and Dragons or with an interactive Murder Weekend spoof, and this allowed for an increase in improvisation and audience participation. By now, the vitriol and cynicism was flowing, and some of the show’s finest moments can be found in this second series. The ‘Character Assassination Experience’ (pioneered in the first series) became sillier, with an entire routine dedicated to Terry Wogan’s baldness - a sketch which seemed, very subtly, to making fun of the sheer pointlessness of such an attack (Baddiel barked that Wogan had changed the title of his one hit ‘The Floral Dance’ from its original title, ‘Alright I’m Bald’). Routines like ‘The Pub Experience’ were evidently born out of a genuine hatred for aspects of modern life, with Baddiel declaring that ‘No one actually likes beer - that’s because it tastes of sick’. Other sketches questioned why our planet ‘has such a crap name’ and parodied the pomposity of party conference speeches (‘It can have escaped nobody’s attention that my trousers are brown...’). The ‘Murder Weekend’ routines were hilarious, and showed the team working brilliantly with the hysterical audience. The third series, which ran for twelve shows from 6 January 1990, marked two important changes. Firstly, the show now went out at 10:30pm on Saturdays (with a same-week repeat in its old time-slot), which seemed to indicate that the BBC had new confidence in the series. Secondly, it marked Bill Dare’s departure as producer, following the third show. Dare’s replacement was Armando Iannucci, then producer of Week Ending and The News Quiz. Iannucci brought a new spin to the show - the series began to exhibit a more ‘candid’ feel (with fluffs, corpses and audience interruptions kept in the edit), in stark contrast to Dare’s attempt at a flawless package. This decision was in response to the mood of the studio audience, who turned up every week and, quite rightly, saw themselves as part of the programme. The regular supporting cast disintegrated, and many disparate performers (among them Jack Dee, Rebecca Front, Doon MacKichan, Mark Hurst and Tim Firth) made up the numbers. Some of the female performers later complained about the treatment on the show - MacKichan called then ‘insulting’, whilst a more conciliatory Front merely echoed Donna MacPhail’s irritation that there was very little to do. The fact that they were often asked to impersonate Mrs Thatcher was also a source of conflict. Meanwhile, Mark Thomas returned for several shows, and The Tracy Brothers appeared more regularly. ‹ Skint Video The Tracy Brothers This helped promote the core Baddiel/Newman/Punt/Dennis line-up as the drive behind the show, although each of them were absent for at least one programme and the dynamic within the team consequently changed in interesting ways: the show without Punt and Dennis was notably darker than the others, whereas the one without Baddiel seemed to be low on ideas. The one without Newman, however, was up to the same standard. The opening show, however, landed Dare in trouble with Radio 1. As a new ‘finale’ feature, he’d given a go-ahead to a game of ‘Shag Or Die’ at the close of the show (‘Would you rather shag Robert Robinson or meet your death?’). The problems surrounding this remains obscure, but the item was curiously absent from the midnight repeat, and it is not clear whether this contributed to Dare’s departure two weeks later. The uncensored version was reviewed unfavourably by Martin Cropper in The Times: Quite honestly, the stuff that gets broadcast these days is, to borrow Bill Bryson’s judicious simile, as thick as pig dribble. A virago of brain-dead prattle, the opening programme artlessly insulted the likes of Linda McCartney and Leon Britten, and purported to involve Ian Paisley and Jimmy Saville in some kind of sexual lottery. There were contraceptive jokes and cocaine jokes and other queasy injections of social comment, à la Ben Elton. (The Times, 13 January 1990) Delighted by this, the team got Nick Hancock to read it out on air. He then parodied Cropper by reading out the ‘second paragraph’: HANCOCK I’d also like to say that Iran is a shit-hole, Mohammed is bent, and President Rafzanjani’s mother - to borrow Bill Bryson’s judicious phrase - does it for money.The third series remains the zenith of The Mary Whitehouse Experience . The shows are punchy, sarcastic, and beautifully written. The topical material was on its way out, and the team got stuck into broader topics and personal obsessions. Particularly noteworthy is this section on the subject of Shakespeare:
PUNT This week, the Royal Shakespeare Company announced that they were going to have to close down for four months. (Pause) Good. Shakespeare’s 400-year old plays are one of those things that not only survive but actually get propped up by the taxpayer for exactly the same reason that Prince Charles thinks we should all live in thatched cottages - the thoroughly British obsession with the idea that ‘If it’s old, it must be good’. DENNIS This idea is demonstrably untrue - look at the repeats of Some Mothers Do ’Ave ’Em, look at most High Court judges, look at the Austin Maxi. The same goes for 400-year old things - look at bubonic plague, look at public executions, look at the Austin Maxi. PUNT Shakespeare has achieved that most coveted of cultural privileges, that of being something that no one actually likes but everyone has to pretend they do - like opera, or Tracy Chapman. Unbelievably tedious, but ideological heresy to say so. DENNIS Mind you, you have to feel a bit sorry for the actors who’ll be thrown out of work by the RSC’s decision. After all, there are very few jobs that a trained Shakespearean performer can do very well. FX: Station announcement ‘bing-bong’ sound PUNT (As a British Rail guard) The train now standing at platform four is the 11:46 to Manchester Piccadilly. It will call at Watford. (Pause) Fair Watford, nestled in hills and pastures green - jewel of South Hertfordshire, thou most favoured of nature’s counties... DENNIS (As an angry commuter) Get on with it! PUNT It will call at Rugby. Thou saucy city of sporting namesake’s fame, whose title doth echo far and wide wherever men do play that noble game...Birmingham International. Change here for the National Exhibition Centre, vast halls for display of wares wonderful, Birmingham New Street. Stafford...my lord Stafford sayest thou, ‘Hah! I jest, my friends!’. And Manchester Picc...oh shit, the train’s gone. Like most Mary Whitehouse Experience material, it loses a lot on the page - one really has to hear Punt’s use of stress and po-faced delivery to get the full benefit of his attack. But, in that short extract, the script has clearly been edited diligently, and much of the wording (‘most coveted of cultural privileges’) is unusual in its snappy erudition. The material has clearly been worked on with great care, with even the most kicking, throwaway observations appearing resolutely unrushed. Take this parody of the then American president George Bush’s poor use of English (Dennis plays the president; Punt plays his advisor): PUNT Good morning, sir. DENNISThis is indeed the pre-midday period, though I withhold judgement on its goodity or its baditude. PUNTEr...would you like some breakfast, sir? DENNISAs regards the breakfastational issue, I am convinced that - nourishmentally and tastewise - the boiled egg option is what made America great. There was often a fantastic juxtaposition between ‘proper’ comedy sketch writing, and messy improvisation: some sequences (e.g. The English defeating Napoleon by showing him a huge photo of him when he was five years old, or a Grand Prix driver being told by a pit-stop mechanic that he can ‘have it done by Thursday’) escalated very traditionally, while, elsewhere, proceedings appeared more brutish, such as when an audience member fell asleep during ‘The Valentine Experience’, or when a drunk tramp interrupted The Punchline Competition (‘Yeah, I enjoyed the last series of Catweazle as well...’). Indeed, it was in The Punchline Competition that the real essence of the show could be found, with the performers relishing the opportunity to sneer at those who hadn’t risen to the challenge: THOMAS How did they break the news to the British tennis team that the Whiteman Cup has been scrapped? ‘I could be worse - you could have worked at Sellafield’. It doesn’t even make sense grammatically, does it?! BADDIEL I think that’s meant to ‘It could be worse’... THOMASNo, but there’s no ‘t’! There’s no ‘t’! BADDIELYeah, I know there’s no ‘t’, but use your imagination, mate...y’know... THOMASIt’s an ‘I’! An ‘I’! BADDIEL No, come back... THOMASAnd that’s from Simon Tuff. (Reads next one) ‘The cup won’t be won by unranked Americans this year’. (Awkward laughter) It’s the same bloke! BADDIEL (Corpses) Simon Tuff? THOMAS Simon...Simon Tuff! Where’s Simon Tuff? Which one are you? (Audience members point him out) Simon...you’re pathetic! SIMON TUFF (Shouting from audience) There’s another one in there yet! THOMAS Oh there’s another one there to come? Oh goody goody! BADDIEL No there isn’t - we’ve scrapped that one before we even got this far, Simon. SIMON TUFF (Cheerily) It gets worse! (Embarrassed silence) BADDIEL Yeah, well done mate, and er...(Rides laughter) we hope you do as well. The winner was eventually someone who had thought of ‘By Braille’, and had written his name on the card in a series of raised dots. ‘For those of you at home,’ said Thomas, rubbing the card up against the microphone... The third series saw other developments. One was to send the team on the streets of London with a tape machine and ask people if they had heard of the show. Few people had, but the responses they received (‘I haven’t heard it so I can’t make no comment’) amused the audience greatly. Another idea was to close the show by ringing out on a phone line: the team began by phoning the BBC complaints department and getting the 300-strong audience to shout ‘Little and Large are rubbish!’, and later tried phoning some chat lines or simply calling people who had left their numbers the preceding week. This proved so successful that Baddiel and Newman presented a one-off 60-minute show, Dave And Rob’s Comedy Phone In on 12 July. The final show on the 24 March was presented as the final show of all time, largely due to the decision by the BBC to pilot the show for television. In fact, the swansong was misleading, as the team had no intention of ending their radio work there. They returned for a one-off special, recorded before a noisy crowd at the Glasgow Radio Festival, transmitted on the 5 July (Wednesday 10pm), the night England got knocked out of the World Cup semi-final. A fourth series was also pencilled in for later in the year, to be preceded by three compilations entitled Mary Whitehouse’s Best Experiences So Far. The television pilot, produced by Marcus Mortimer for Spitting Image Productions, was broadcast on BBC2 at 9pm on Wednesday 3 October 1990. The show looked fantastic - the opening titles (directed by Steve Bendelack) involved grainy, off-monitor footage of the team in the BBC’s Acton rehearsal rooms, accompanied by a re-mixed version of the signature tune. (For some reason, the words ‘recording studio’ at the beginning were crudely changed to ‘in a studio’ - a strange decision, since a television studio is still a recording studio by any other name.) The set was futuristic, sparse and abstract, divided into several performance platforms together with revolving fans and a huge on-stage video screen. The content, however, was weak. Like most radio transfers, it lacked spontaneity and edge, with a general impression of things being over-rehearsed or re-shot too many times. The need to have costume changes for each sub-sketch was also a hindrance, as they detracted from the real essence of the comedy (i.e. the density of the script and the ease with which it was hitherto performed). The one saving grace was the ‘Dungeons and Dragons’ sequence, which did involve a degree of improvisation and audience participation, and there was an amusing running joke about an erotic drama being shown immediately after transmission. But the ‘classic’ routines about the Channel Tunnel, perversion and Saddam Hussein seemed stale when presented visually, and the decision to give an awkward-looking Doon MacKichan some Baddiel-penned stand-up lines was misjudged. In spite of this, a series was planned for the new year - a decision made by the BBC before audience response to the pilot had even been analysed. The fourth radio series arrived on 20 October, running for nine shows until 15 December with a ‘Best Of Series 4’ compilation the week after. The timeslot was now 7pm on Saturdays (together with its usual Friday/midnight repeat), although this didn’t affect the content of the show. There is no ‘watershed’ as such on radio, and the series retained its ability to shock: one sequence, attacking the BBC’s Children In Need campaign, talked about how deprived children were always the nastiest and least deserving of charity, ‘spending all day slamming a Pakistani’s head into a paving stone and renting out their sobbing five year-old sisters to passing truck drivers’. The team also invited listeners to write in with their comments, and these were dutifully read out on air. This series, once again produced by Iannucci, had now ditched all pretence of being a topical satire show. When the news of Margaret Thatcher’s resignation came through, the team simply did a long sketch about John Cole’s coat. It was the tightest and most ‘professional’ of the four series, although the material didn’t quite have the zest of series three, and the final few shows suggested that a degree of barrel-scraping was taking place. The core four performers now occupied most of the air-time: the only assistance coming from Mark Hurst (who performed a stand-up act in most shows) and The Tracy Brothers, who appeared occasionally. This meant a greater control of the content and shape of the series, and the team seemed to delight in intricately-woven running jokes. The finale sketches involved a trip to the Gulf to entertain the troops, and a spoof Christmas pantomime. The first television series (six shows) was broadcast on Thursday nights at 9pm from 3 January 1991, again produced by Marcus Mortimer. The team were now clearly marketed as a foursome, with the exception of a couple of brief appearances from Nick Hancock, one of which had him as ‘The Other One From Soft Cell’. The weaknesses were pretty much identical to those in the pilot, although there were further problems arising from the outbreak of the Gulf War. The BBC’s ban on any comedy material relating to the conflict dented the credibility of the show: although it was scarcely a topical programme, its allusions to news events did make the absence of Saddam-quips very obvious. An attempt was made each week to do The Punchline Competition, but these proved disappointing due to the more business-like approach of the production crew and the restlessness of the audience, and these were cut out each time. On television, the constrictions of taste and time were detrimental, and the television series bore little resemblance to the radio masterpiece it once was. Of the four of them, only Dennis looked comfortable in front of the camera - Baddiel looked slightly embarrassed, Punt looked irritable, and Newman looked like he wasn’t trying. Newman’s decision to include, in every show. an impression of Shaw Taylor (a man who had stopped appearing on television at least two years earlier) also seemed to slow proceedings down a little. The studio audience did not seem to have a ‘personality’ in a way that they did on the radio, and they appeared to be laughing rather too obediently and unconditionally. The show’s main concession to television at this stage was the use of doctored photographs (Madonna with a moustache, a thug’s face on a picture of a ‘Hard Ecu’, etc), and these unfunny instances summed up the series’ main flaw - they were now trying to get laughs from the cold jokes per se, rather than creating an atmosphere and attitude which was funny in itself. (Although never present in the TV series, Mark Thomas’ talent for assaulting the week’s news was later expanded for Radio 1’s Loose Talk, which began in October 1991. The first three series were produced by Armando Iannucci, and utilised the same ‘cuts and stings’ format as The Mary Whitehouse Experience, in addition to featuring a version of the Punchline Competition. Later editions also utilised the ‘vox pop’ idea.) The second television series aired on BBC2 from 2 March 1992, once again running for six editions. By now, the two double-acts were very different, or at least were marketed as such: Baddiel and Newman’s material was now ‘darker’ and more introspective (Newman creating a ‘bedsit poet’ persona, making his stand-up appear more lucidly theatrical) while Punt and Dennis’ scripts were more pedestrian. This meant a faintly contrived and odd series, barely held together by any great theme, but it worked slightly better than the previous television shows. The show zipped along tightly, and was less reliant on re-heated radio material. They were also joined each week by Melanie Hudson, an actress with whom the team had never previously worked, who played all the female sketch parts. The decision to include running characters was accidental. Dennis, dressed as the ‘Strange Man’ character, said ‘Milky milky’ as an ad lib simply because the camera’s red light hadn’t gone out, while the script for Baddiel and Newman’s first ‘History Today’ routine was virtually identical to the original improvised version included on an audio tape given away with their first video (The Minutes Of The Parish Council Meeting, 1992). As we all know, these proved very lucrative accidents indeed. Baddiel and Newman also created ‘Ray’, a character whose only attribute was his sarcastic tone of voice - this was clearly influenced by Baddiel’s in-built sneer and intended as some kind of satire on the Groucho Club mentality which they both despised, but the sketches inevitably seemed cheap and under-written. The ‘Ivan’ character was also quasi-satirical (this time attacking the banality of daytime TV presenters and their obsession with trivia), but this suffered from the same lack of subtlety, the duo coming across as pious, rather self-consciously arrogant figures. One sequence (‘The Lonely Experience’) borrowed heavily from the cinema scene in Woody Allen’s Annie Hall, and seemed - for all its arrogance - to work quite well. The embarrassing bits in this series, though, are the pieces of dialogue clearly shoehorned in by Baddiel and Newman from their unfinished novels, with both performers gabbling quickly over certain convoluted phrases. The references in some ‘experience’ titles, from literary sources like Dylan Thomas (‘Do Not Go Gentle’) and Anthony Burgess (‘Real Horror Show Maskies On’), together with obscure rock quotations (‘The Boy Looked At Mark’, ‘It Was Really Nothing’) conveyed an adolescent feel which was as uncomfortable as it was phoney. The series ended for good on 6 April. ‘Ivan’ introduced ‘Richard Stillnotdead’, a bizarre Stilgoe parody from Baddiel (‘Some folks work up a lather/About that M25 palaver...’) which presumably went over the heads of the audience by miles, but was hilarious possibly for this very reason. For such an important and popular radio/TV show, it’s very odd that none of it has been issued on CD or video. The closest we ever got was the three ‘History Today’ sketches included on Baddiel and Newman’s second live video, released in November 1992. The reasons for this differ, depending on who you ask. Some maintain that much of it was too topical for latter day release, an opinion which demonstrates an ignorance about the actual contents of the programmes, not to mention a cynical view of the public’s ability to comprehend things past and things present. BBC Enterprises have stated that the show was considered for release at one time, but was dropped due to ‘objections from parties involved’. The real reason appears to be Baddiel and Newman’s agents, Avalon, well known in comedy circles as hustlers who understand the merits of comedy only if it shifts enough units so they can break even until the next tax year. Their big plan involved splitting the team so that their golden boys, now officially re-named ‘Newman and Baddiel’ to trip easily off journalists’ tongues, could be primed for the burgeoning student market (to whom they fed constant lies concerning ticket, video and t-shirt sales), leaving Punt and Dennis to their own devices. The latter were handled by Phil McIntyre, and did about as well as Baddiel and Newman as far as popularity was concerned. (When Baddiel and Newman concluded a long gig at Leicester’s De Montfort Hall in May 1992 by asking the audience if they had any questions, one girl shouted ‘Where are the two funny ones?’, and was greeted by applause.) However, because Punt and Dennis had less references to ephemeral indie bands and had no desire to re-invent themselves as teen icons, journalists blindly, nastily, and ignoramously cited as ‘the crap ones from The Mary Whitehouse Experience’. Avalon were quick to use the ‘Mary Whitehouse Experience’ label as PR for their artistes (the first live video, released in March 1992, had the words ‘From The Mary Whitehouse Experience’ in far larger type than the name of the two comedians), but they predictably vetoed any release of material from the show itself. Baddiel and Newman were still using ‘old Mary Whitehouse stuff’, and Avalon did not wish fans to hear such material on a BBC cassette before they had forked out money on one of their expensive videos. The fact that the BBC radio shows were a million times better was neither here nor there: Avalon were concerned with ‘product’, which had to be released under their own banner. Hugh Dennis, in a very revealing Andrew Collins-penned article about the emerging comedy business in Select (‘Comedy Babylon’, March 1993), angrily said: ‘What the fuck is product? We’re not product! We try to be funny. The idea of product makes my flesh creep.’ Baddiel and Newman’s live videos were enjoyable (particularly the first one, recorded in July 1991 before audience sycophancy had had time to fester, with strong sets from both performers and a shambolic, improv-heavy finale), but they quickly became fragmented affairs, ruined by poor editing. The rushes of the second video, recorded in August 1992, showed so much repetition of material from the first video that the editor had to include ‘passing of time’ fade-outs during Baddiel’s routine to cover up the edits, and this rather gave the impression that the viewer was watching a publicists’ image of a comedian rather than a true stand-up set. The nadir came with the Live And In Pieces At Wembley video, a 60-minute rush-release edit of their show at Wembley Arena. The Avalon blurb described this as a ‘sell-out show’, despite the fact that the venue was barely half full. They also made a travesty of what was already a below-par performance from both comedians. (see EDIT NEWS / NEWMAN & BADDIEL for full details). Punt and Dennis also released a live video and a novelty single (‘Take Me To The Fridge (Milky Milky)’ by Mr Strange and Lactose Brotherhood, released on Pasteurized Records in 1993), both of which showed them in a poor light - needlessly playing up to imagined audience expectations despite possessing the talent and the fanbase to do much better. And where are they now? Having exploited the teenage-girl market with a joyless solo stand-up tour and a straight-to-paperback novel, Dependence Day (Century, 1994), Rob Newman - who became ‘Robert Newman’ until he realised that no one had noticed - was probably a bit worried when this audience grew up, left university, bandaged their anorexic wrists, and decided they preferred Noel Fielding anyway. He dropped out of the business for a while, and left Avalon. Now he’s back - a few pounds heavier and a few grand lighter, presenting a stand-up set containing alarmingly little new material, in addition to a largely-ignored second novel, Manners (Hamish Hamilton, 1998). David Baddiel (often cited, by cunts, as ‘the crap one from Newman and Baddiel’) is a good Jewish boy done good. He presented the terminally likeable Fantasy Football League, wrote the excellent Time For Bed (Little, Brown, 1996) and eventually returned to stand-up, demonstrating on his recent live video (albeit once again spoilt by Avalon’s editing) that he hadn’t lost it. Baddiel has recognised that his talents lie in unpretentious, bread-and-butter, observational sarcasm, and it is in this that he truly excels. Unshackled from received pigeon-holing and publicity bumf, he is one of our best stand-ups: there are hundreds of ersatz Baddiels currently boring the comedy circuit rigid, but only the original Baddiel has the talent and persona to carry it off. Steve Punt and Hugh Dennis did a few rather tepid TV series of their own (Me You And Him, The Imaginatively Titled Punt & Dennis Show) which almost played up to the middle-ground status that had been foisted on them, positioning them in direct opposition to Baddiel and Newman’s pretentious, quasi-adolescent 1993 series Newman & Baddiel In Pieces (a show that would have been improved considerably if it had featured Hugh Dennis striding across the soundstage pretending to be an ostrich). But now they’re back, with The Now Show, a topical comedy show for Radio 4, and It’s Been A Bad Week, a topical comedy show for Radio 2. Neither are great shows, but their faults can be laid partly at the door of the networks, who are presumably working to a ‘topical comedy’ remit they feel obliged to fill. The good bits, principally the revival of The Punchline Competition, show Punt and Dennis to be as likeable as they ever were, if a little too cuddly. Insiders claim that Radio 1 killed off speech comedy because it was ‘too popular’. Whether this is true or not, the absence of speech comedy on the network has meant that future shows in a similar vein to The Mary Whitehouse Experience (too hip for Radio 4, too sweary for Radio 2) will no longer have a place on the airwaves. Radio 1 began to tolerate comedy only if it was mixed with their tiresome music quota in a ‘DJ’ format (Lee & Herring, The Chris Morris Music Show), but - by about 1997 - insisted that all comedy must be ‘ambient’, with sketches performed against easy-listening muzak or trendy dance tracks (Blue Jam, The League Against Tedium). Radios 2 and 4 are both now deluged with watered-down versions of Mary Whitehouse Experience-esque humour. The Mark Steel Revolution rips off Bill Dare’s cuts-and-stings format, but unfortunately has Mark Steel in it. Dan Gaster and Paul Powell have been whoring themselves through various no-hope formats with their cod-Baddielian deliveries, serving up comedy which is shallow and laurel-resting in a way that The Mary Whitehouse Experience was playful and cocky. Such performers are permissible on Radio 4 because they remove what made The Mary Whitehouse Experience special: roughness, imperfection, true nastiness, a healthy contempt for the mere idea of doing a comedy show. As such, comedians like Mark Steel (once inoffensive stand-ups who knew their place) have become undeserved enfant terriblés of the airwaves, making Middle England chuckle into its washing-up. The weakest scripts become ‘the funniest thing I’ve ever heard in my life - well done BBC’ and the mildest profanities become ‘indicative of falling moral standards’. The Mary Whitehouse Experience was a masterpiece. Like all masterpieces, it deserves to be repeated but probably never will. We can only hope that the airwaves are open to similar ventures in the future. But, for now, why not write to the BBC Radio Collection and request that a CD is commissioned pretty damn soon: contact BBC Radio Collection, Room A3132, BBC Worldwide, Woodlands, 80 Wood Lane, London W12 0TT, or phone the head of the department, Vicky Edgar, on (0181) 576 2230. And while you’re at it, write to Jonathan James-Moore, head of Radio Comedy for all networks, at BBC Broadcasting House, London W12 1AA and tell him to repeat the show. And, after you’ve done that, write to Jon Thoday at Avalon, 4a Exmoor Street, London W10 6BD, and tell him the rules have been changed...
EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW… THE RADIO SERIES 43x30m, Radio 1 SERIES ONE 12x30m Cast details Producer SERIES 1, SHOW 1 (#1) Baddiel intro - ‘You were
fabulous last night...’* Additional cast: Jo Brand, Mark
Thomas, Skint Video SERIES 1, SHOW 2 (#2) Baddiel Intro - Letter from Timothy Lawrence Additional cast: Mark Thomas, Jo Brand, Skint Video SERIES 1, SHOW 3 (#3) Baddiel intro -
‘It’s been a very mild winter...’ Additional cast: Jo Brand, Mark
Thomas, Skint Video SERIES 1, SHOW 4 (#4) Now That’s What I Call
Satire Additional cast: Jo Brand, Mark
Thomas, Skint Video NOTE: Recording scheduled for 3/5/89 cancelled due to industrial action; replaced with a repeat for one week only. SERIES 1, SHOW 5 (#5) Pre-sig: ‘Are we ready
with the sig, Bill?’ Additional cast: Jo Brand, Skint
Video SERIES 1, SHOW 6 (#6) Baddiel intro - Cigarette
warnings Additional cast: Jo Brand, Mark Thomas, Skint Video SERIES 1, SHOW 7 (#7) Heatwave/Satellite
Dishes/Bros Additional cast: Mark Thomas, Jo Brand, Skint Video SERIES 1, SHOW 8 (#8) Baddiel Intro - Adultery Additional cast: Mark Thomas, Jo Brand, Skint Video SERIES 1, SHOW 9 (#9) The Environment Additional cast: Mark Thomas, Jo
Brand, Skint Video Series 1, Show 10 (#10) Baddiel intro - ‘Give us a
B...’ Additional cast: Jo Brand, Mark Thomas, Skint Video SERIES 1, SHOW 11 (#11) The Exam Experience (Part 1) Additional cast: Mark Thomas, Jo Brand, Skint Video SERIES 1, SHOW 12 (#12) The Big Deal Over The Top
Investigative Reporter Voice Experience (Transport) Additional cast: Jo Brand, Mark Thomas, Skint Video SERIES TWO (aka ‘Summer Season’) 9x30m Cast details Producers SERIES 2, SHOW 1 (#13) Baddiel intro - ‘I
haven’t got over my grandfather’s death...’ Additional cast: Nick Hancock,
Donna MacPhail, Tim Firth SERIES 2, SHOW 2 (#14) Baddiel intro - ‘Anyone
seen not laughing...’ Additional cast: Nick Hancock,
Donna MacPhail, Tim Firth SERIES 2, SHOW 3 (#15) Baddiel intro - Goon show Additional cast:Nick Hancock,
Donna MacPhail, Tim Firth SERIES 2, SHOW 4 (#16) Baddiel intro - Mike Gatting Additional cast: Mark Thomas,
Donna MacPhail, Tim Firth SERIES 2, SHOW 5 (#17) Baddiel intro - Video trivia
machine Additional cast: Mark Thomas, Jo
Brand, Skint Video SERIES 2, SHOW 6 (#18) Baddiel intro - ‘Look at
this shirt...’ Note: Hugh Dennis absent SERIES 2, SHOW 7 (#19) Baddiel intro - ‘The
Duchess of York is pregnant again...’ Additional cast: Mark Thomas,
The Tracy Brothers, Susie Brann SERIES 2, SHOW 8 (#20) Baddiel intro - Zsa Zsa Gabor Additional cast: Mark Thomas,
Skint Video, Sarah Thomas SERIES 2, SHOW 9 (#21) Intro - ‘Our first joke
hasn’t arrived...’ Additional cast: Jack Dee, The
Tracy Brothers, Sarah Thomas SERIES THREE 12x30m Cast details Producers Sound assistants (No information available for show 10) SERIES 3, SHOW 1 (#22) Baddiel intro - ‘Is
that coffee I smell?’ [* Cut for repeat] Additional cast: Mark Thomas, Alison Goldie, The Tracy Brothers SERIES 3, SHOW 2 (#23) Rob Newman intro - Antoine De
Caunes impression Additional cast: Mark Thomas,
Donna MacPhail, The Tracy Brothers SERIES 3, SHOW 3 (#24) Baddiel intro: Star
prize/Punt & Dennis aren’t here Additional cast: Nick Hancock,
Donna MacPhail, Mark Hurst, The Tracy Brothers SERIES 3, SHOW 4 (#25) Baddiel intro- ‘I
really do hate Bobby Robson...’ Additional cast: Nick Hancock,
Donna MacPhail, The Tracy Brothers SERIES 3, SHOW 5 (#26) Baddiel intro - Princess
Margaret Additional cast: Mark Hurst,
Donna MacPhail, The Tracy Brothers SERIES 3, SHOW 6 (#27) South Africa Additional cast: Mark Thomas,
Doon MacKichan, The Tracy Brothers SERIES 3, SHOW 7 (#28) Baddiel intro - Donald Trump Additional cast: Mark Thomas,
Donna MacPhail, Tim Firth SERIES 3, SHOW 8 (#29) The Nationalism
Experience Additional cast: Mark Thomas,
Donna MacPhail, Nick Hancock, Tim Firth SERIES 3, SHOW 9 (#30) Baddiel intro -
‘We’ve beaten them at cricket...’ Additional cast: Jack Dee,
Rebecca Front, The Tracy Brothers SERIES 3, SHOW 10 (#31) Baddiel intro - Al Fayed
lies Additional cast: Mark Thomas
SERIES 3, SHOW 11 (#32) Rob Newman intro (pre-sig):
‘The style of David Baddiel’ Note: David Baddiel absent SERIES 3, SHOW 12 (#33) Pre-sig: Tommy Vance intro Additional cast: Mark Hurst, The
Tracy Brothers SPECIAL (#34) Baddiel intro - ‘Nine out
of ten cats go moo...’ Additional cast: Jack Dee Note: ‘Dave & Rob’s Comedy Phone-In’ broadcast on 12 July 1990 (60 mins) SERIES FOUR 9x30m Cast details Producer (Sound assistants not credited) Series 4, Show 1 (#35) Horses On Dope Additional cast: Mark Hurst SERIES 4, SHOW 2 (#36) The Motoring Experience Additional cast: Mark Hurst SERIES 4, SHOW 3 (#37) Intro - New football
superleague Additional cast: Mark Hurst SERIES 4, SHOW 4 (#38) Intro - Jonathan Ross Additional cast: Mark Hurst SERIES 4, SHOW 5 (#39) The
Medical Experience Additional cast: Mark Hurst SERIES 4, SHOW 6 (#40) Pre-sig: Audience member asked to leave Additional cast: The Tracy Brothers SERIES 4, SHOW 7 (#41) The
Family Experience Additional cast: Mark Hurst (Final appearance) SERIES 4, SHOW 8 (#42) Sig
tune: audience applaud over Baddiel’s cue NOTE: The only edition not to feature an additional cast SERIES 4, SHOW 9 (#43) Pre-sig: Bald convention/Sixth-former from hell Additional cast: Mark Hurst, The
Tracy Brothers COMPILATIONS Mary Whitehouse’s Best
Experiences So Far #1 Ken
Dodd Is Innocent [Series 2] Mary Whitehouse’s Best
Experiences So Far #2 Mary Whitehouse’s Best
Experiences So Far #3 Political Bias [3] Mary Whitehouse’s Last
Laugh inc. The Medical Experience Punt & Dennis Sample Mary
Whitehouse (30m) Material from all series + studio links by Punt &
Dennis (No audience) Note: Billed as ‘The Mary Whitehouse Experience’, and erroneously as 90m in duration
The Mary
Whitehouse Experience One-off compilation broadcast on Radio 4 (Sat 11pm) THE TELEVISION SERIES PILOT Baddiel intro - United Germany, linking to: Running time: 29’47 SERIES ONE SERIES 1, SHOW 1 Title
announced by: Baddiel Running time: 29’50 SERIES 1, SHOW 2 Title
announced by: Punt Running time: 28’37 SERIES 1, SHOW 3 Title
announced by: Newman, as Antoine De Caunes Running time: 29’17 SERIES 1, SHOW 4 Title
announced by: Dennis (‘Going For Gold!’) Running time: 30’13 SERIES 1, SHOW 5 Intro: This show isn’t for you/Sir George Solti Running time: 26’05
SERIES 1, SHOW 6 Title
announced by: Cast in bobble hats Running time: 29’44 SERIES TWO SERIES 2, SHOW 1 The
Real Horror Show Maskies On Experience Running time: 27’29 SERIES 2, SHOW 2 World
leaders doing adverts Running time: 29’58 SERIES 2, SHOW 3 The
Out Of Body Experience Running time: 29’03 SERIES 2, SHOW 4 The
Cross Town Traffic Experience Running time: 29’37 SERIES 2, SHOW 5 The
Vam Vam Vam Vam Experience Running time: 29’03 SERIES 2, SHOW 6 Pre-titles: Party Election Broadcast (Mr Strange) Running time: 29’52 THE MARY WHITEHOUSE EXPERIENCE: A breakdown... David Baddiel appeared in 42 shows: all
except #32 Information on sound engineers/production assistants etc is only given in Series 2 and 3, and this is generally not comprehensive: Production assistants: Sound: NOTE: No-one appeared in all 43 shows |
© 2000 - 2001 some of the corpses
are amusing |