Plebs Win Prizes
by The Mumbler, 17 December 2000

In the issue of Radio Times dated 18-24 November 2000, Sue Robinson's editor's letter included an invitation to readers: "Don't forget to write and tell us what you think were the best and worst programmes or moments on TV or radio in the past year", promising "stupendous prizes". But, as everyone knows, "stupendous prizes" for RT letter-writers basically means a pen, or seeing as it's Christmas, two pens. (To paraphrase Roger Hargreaves.) Pens? Jesus, on the evidence of the Christmas 2000 issue (23 December 2000 - 5 January 2001), this lot need lobotomies....

First a pretend warning. The following may contain the views of real people, supposedly, although we suspect the RT staff probably made them up anyway, knowing that the plebs, not actually giving a tinker's cuss about broadcasting in any way, were more likely to be busy booking their seat for Delia Smith's readers "festive feast". Yes, sometimes their views have been taken out of context, perhaps, usually because their original context made absolutely no sense anyway. But, fair play, maybe their original letters were wondrous, incisive and detailed 2000+-word tirades on the state of broadcasting, reduced to meaningless soundbites by Robinson and her subs (an apt term, were it not for the fact that, technically, Robinson herself is decidedly 'sub'). So if your letter was insensitively cut to ribbons, please let us know.

Assuming none of the letters were edited, then (although quite frankly, that's exactly what we're assuming), most of them simply tend to be 50-word bletherings which are absolutely no more intelligent than the readers' contributions you see whenever Sam Brady or George Wood has a day off on Teletext. In actual fact, they are considerably less interesting than the views of kids who used to write in to Look-In (ITV Publications, early 70s to early 90s) with letters like "I disagree with Daniel who said that CHiPs was good, I think it's rubbish, and Knight Rider is miles better". The only difference is the choice of the programmes. At least the Look-In readers were conveying a genuine enthusiasm, untainted by their peers or the critical acclaim or derision of the professionals. Praising an expensive TV drama often means nothing more than choosing to agree with a substantial feature in a listings magazine. Ah! Which brings us to our first prize-winning letter....

The expensive TV drama Gormenghast cost the BBC a lot of money, and filled God knows how many pages of its flagship listings magazine, but a woman from Newbury sympathises, describing it as "an emotional rollercoaster of passion and sensitivity, torture and murder". Meanwhile Sarah Lancashire, former soap icon, and someone seemingly profiled in RT roughly once a week, is praised for Seeing Red, although other than a "memorable and moving performance" (subtext: a reader from Baildon, West Yorkshire remembers seeing Lancashire's character get upset), we are given little real insight as to what the programme was about. This is followed up by praise for the barely-bothering Ruby Wax and her dinner party conceits. The resident of Baildon does use the word "vicarious", though. Clever.

Or what about this? Viewers are reminded by a radio listener in Staffordshire that The Archers is still going strong, suspiciously just before its 50th anniversary. Even better, she gets vaguely excited about "the programme's first two-hander", a meaningless statement in itself, merely a device for programme-makers using a fictional context for the self-importance of their own ouput (see also all TV soaps but particularly the producers of EastEnders, who have a permanent eye not only on the ratings but also the BAFTAs. The twats). The Archers' fabulous achievement is summed up as "powerful stuff" by the scribbler who, if she were even slightly more honest, would concede it was just "full of shouting".

Still, if it reads like it's been dutifully typed by a BBC press officer, at least her letter suggests that she might actually give a toss about the Corporation's output. No such luck with a Slough-based idiot (John Betjeman was fucking spot on, judging from this) who namechecks Clocking Off (BBC1) for no publishable reason, and The Royle Family (also BBC1), included for this shaft of insightful observation: "Can any of us listen to Mambo No. 5 again without thinking of Jim and Twiggy wiggling their enormous backsides?". Leaving aside the obvious jibe that she could have quite easily ended that sentence after the word "again", this utterly dispiriting thumbs-up hammers home the point to all sitcom-writers, performers, directors, editors and producers that there is absolutely bugger all point in painstakingly recording and transmitting anything at all unless it contains some 15-second gobbet that Trails And Presentation can regurgitate, that Points Of View can regurgitate, that clip-show researchers can regurgitate, that awards ceremonies video screens can regurgitate...so that we can regurgitate. Stupid Of Slough's, er, point, can be summarised thus: "Fat men dancing is facking hilarious, right? Now, where's that bit of Delboy falling over? Yet again.". If anyone she knows is reading this, ask her how she won that pen set. And see if she says "it was a present".

Almost uniquely out of this selection, though, she has a lowlight for the year 2000 (but, after all, where would you start?), but luckily, commercial television is very much to blame - or specifically "the hype surrounding Channel 4's Big Brother". A view shared by someone else from Berkshire who thought it was a bit annoying. Just you two wait and see how many BB clones Lorraine Heggessey and Jane Root will have up their sleeves for 2001. You'll be sorry. As will the rest of us.

From Harlow in Essex comes a letter that calls Steve Redgrave's blahblahblah at the Sydney Olympics "an unforgettable piece of television". Three months old, and "unforgettable", fancy that! The writer of this letter has presumably been signed up with Paul Ross and Stuart Maconie for BBC2's next foray into vague reminiscence "I Love Last Week". (Although in any case, "unforgettable" isn't praising television output or sporting achievement, it's praising one's own memory.) A piece of paper emenating from St. Albans in Hertfordshire also dubs the coverage "brilliant", and "My biggest regret is the demise of Morse", suggesting that the letter-writer actually murdered Endeavour. And, just for a change, there's the usual piece of puff for Dead Ringers - a TV transfer can't be far away. Thank you so much, woman in Yorkshire.

The heavyweight intellect continues with one Dundee resident who, winningly, smirks, "I knew by intuition before Last Of The Blonde Bombshells (BBC1) was broadcast that it would be a success, and I was correct". Intuition?! If his intuition was that well-developed, he wouldn't have gone anywhere near a pillar box as he would have been hyperaware that his innermost thoughts would be seen by millions to be those of a complete moron. Pens or no pens. Five Years Too Late from Halifax in West Yorkshire pokes his head round the page just to see if it's OK to praise Frasier and ER yet ("for showing how good American TV can be when it tries...") and decides that Cold Feet is a highpoint of the TV year for a "stylish script and cast" (which only means the thing looks good and you could watch it with the sound down or off). And the letter which heads this page of nonsense - clumsily and lazily headlined "There was the most moving episode of EastEnders in its history, with Dot agonising at Ethel's bedside" - begins with another congratulation to Redgrave, but more importantly, moves swiftly on to a thrice-weekly soap that the BBC can continue to celebrate while they try and distract anyone else who asks what Danielle Lux and David Young are doing to its entertainment departments.

The big question has so far not been asked, though: why pens, anyway? Elsewhere in the Christmas Radio Times, there's a chance to win a huge TV set by doing a larger-than-usual but hardly taxing crossword that could be completed in about 15 minutes by almost anyone, and considerably quicker by any Look-In reader. Having an opinion is obviously a classier, more intellectual ability, and so deserves something that shows you are proud of your own writing. Yyyesss... except nice pens are for those who are proud of their own handwriting. The letter-writers could win a copy of The Crystal Bucket by Clive James (surely not - isn't he the one who introduces clips of Japanese game shows for ITV-watching plebs? Er...not anymore, and in any case, why would that cancel out his earlier achievements?) or even Inside The Magic Rectangle by Victor Lewis Smith - to show them how TV criticism is not just spouting "I liked this programme, people will admire my choice and will make positive assumptions about my lifestyle, but not that programme which will make me look like a TV Quick gazer, an assumption which could only be resolved by immediate suicide" without any real idea of how to argue or justify one's decision. (Come to think of it, Radio Times could order a copy of each book for each and every one of its staff - they need to read them even more urgently.)

And there's another thing: Why do people think that just because you like Pride And Prejudice or Walking With Dinosaurs means that you are a more discerning viewer than if you're prepared to talk about, say, You've Been Framed in any depth, or with any comprehension? Any fool can stare at A History Of Britain by Simon Schama for an hour, but ask them what it meant and answers may not be forthcoming. The ability to criticise (in its technical sense) is a rare skill, practised by almost no-one currently writing about television in a professional capacity. So, why didn't RT set a competition to really discover decent TV criticism, and award the TV set to the best 2000-word essay on The State Of Television? Or better still, give them Alison Graham's job.