US TV

Who Killed the British Sitcom?

David Liddiment
In case you missed it (ratings 1 million), Who Killed the British Sitcom? was a rather well researched look at trends in British television comedy over the last 30 years.

Presented by David Liddiment, the former director of ITV programmes, the show examined two questions: why British TV schedules are no longer as packed with sitcoms as they were in the 70s; and why there have been so few home-grown ‘classics’ of the genre of late. It came up with five ‘suspects’, including alternative comedy, digital TV and reality TV, and asked whether their arrival had killed off the traditional British sitcom.

It’s always interesting when someone like Liddiment or Greg Dyke makes a programme: they commissioned programmes based on their opinions of what makes a good show, so what happens when they get given a chance to make one themselves? Can they walk the walk? Liddiment, a former investigative journalist and director, clearly knows how to put together a programme and the whole thing gripped from start to finish (unlike Dyke’s last effort).

Galton and Simpson

Most of the show was fascinating, with interviews from most of the major TV comedy writers of British TV history, including John Sullivan, Galton and Simpson, Ben Elton and Carla Lane, exposing how much the commissioning system for comedy had changed since the 50s. Lane appeared particularly galled that no one would commission her to write a 13-part sitcom simply for passing their door – even though she lost her ability to generate decent original content years ago.

The most eye-opening comments came from Victoria Wood, whose unremarkable Dinnerladies, much beloved by older folk, I’d regarded as archaic and dull. She revealed she’d originally intended it as an ER-style show, with multiple cameras swooping in and out of the cast as characters went about their work. Instead, what could have been her crowning achievement, was turned into a standard 70s-style studio piece that she herself was embarrassed by.

Who Killed the British Sitcom?‘s problems stemmed from a certain flabbiness of argument. There were obvious gaps in Liddiment’s coverage of sitcom history, whether for personal or political reasons. For instance, none of the shockingly bad sitcoms that have graced our airwaves over the years, such as ITV’s Babes in the Wood, were mentioned as potential devaluers of the sitcom currency.

Indeed, the idea that anyone in charge of the networks (such as Liddiment) may have been responsible for the demise of the sitcom was entirely overlooked, even though the comments of Wood and others highlighted these failings. Liddiment also ignored certain facts that didn’t gel with his thesis: the high-quality, team-written US sitcoms that Liddiment says undermined the British approach and which he hints should be the model for British sitcom production are actually in trouble in the US, with most of the networks struggling to find shows that last longer than six episodes. Most long-running US sitcoms also suffer from a gradual ‘blanding’ and simplifying of characters to make it easier for ever-changing teams to fit gags to stories, as the inconsistencies of Friends‘ characterisations over the years demonstrated. It seems odd, therefore, for him to suggest this as a solution for generating new classics.

Liddiment’s failure to actively attach blame anywhere even extends to the ‘suspects’ he identifies. None of them is ever fingered as the cause, merely listed as a potential subverter of the genre without much evidence given for its alleged effects. Despite this, Liddiment then goes on to conclude his case proven, without having said what his case was. He then goes on to suggest that maybe everything is all right and that the sitcom is just changing, again without much supporting evidence.

As a polemic, Who Killed the British Sitcom? was fascinating, and with a little tightening up in the narration, it could have been an outstanding piece of television. In its present state, it is at least an interesting examination of British television comedy history. Catch it in repeats if you can.

News

Looking forward to The IT Crowd?

The IT Crowd

Even if it weren’t for the planned guest appearances by Chris Morris, I think I’d still be tuning in to watch The IT Crowd. If you can put aside the show’s obvious use of stereotypes for a second, a Graham Linehan comedy is always worth watching. Even those that didn’t last the course (eg Big Train, Hippies) were full of brilliant comic moments, and with Father Ted and Black Books under his belt, you know that he’s capable of filling an entire season of episodes with end-to-end comedy gems. The IT Crowd looks like it’s going to have at least a couple, and given that Channel 4 is going to be providing an online premiere of the first episode, they obviously have high hopes for it, too.

Kneale Before Nigel

‘Celebrity’ Big Brother vindicates Nigel Kneale

The Year of the Sex Olympics

Anybody remember a 1968 programme called The Year of the Sex Olympics? Basic plot: population of the world starts to get out of control so the powers that be decide to keep the populace in check by beaming them pornography all day. But guess what? They get bored. There’s only so much porn people can watch before it gets a bit dull (take note Men and Motors). So the powers that be come up with a new idea: reality TV. Stick a family on an island and monitor them 24/7. Then, to really shake things up, stick a criminal on the island and see what happens. The result? People get glued to that all day instead.

It was a remarkably prophetic piece of television, albeit quite dull to watch, unlike the rest of writer Nigel Kneale’s output. What’s even more remarkable is Channel 4’s decision to compress The Year of the Sex Olympics’ plot and stick all its elements into one programme: Celebrity Big Brother.

So we have a bunch of dull people, aka ‘the family’ (Rula Lenska, Faria Alam, Preston Samuel, Maggot, Pete Burns and Chantelle the stooge), pornography (Jodie ‘glamour model’ Marsh, Traci ‘Baywatch’ Bingham) and criminals (well, alleged criminals Michael Barrymore and George Galloway as well as the definitely criminal Dennis Rodman), all stuck into handy half-hour segments for our exploitation/tranquillisation. How Brave New World of Channel 4. I guess our attention span ain’t what it used to be.

Even so, the irony is that given the complete Z-list nature of the ‘celebrities’, I’m pretty sure it’s going to be a ratings flop. Our attention span really ain’t what it used to be and minor celebs just don’t aren’t enough any more.

Still, my prediction for the winner? Maggot. All of Wales will be voting for him. Let me know if I turn out to be right: I won’t be watching…

What author double-acts would you like to see in movies?

Following the news that WB is planning a movie in which Shakespeare and Cervantes become friends and bum around Europe together (or solve crimes. Who knows?), I wondered which other authorial double acts you’d all like to see in the movies. Let me know.

Here’s a few to get you started:

  1. Martin Amis and Harold Pinter: “when two authors clashed over their views on modern-day American Imperialism, it was murder”
  2. J D Salinger and F Scott Fitzgerald: “Their first names a secret, their attitude insouciant, they came to change nothing, but left having changed everything”
  3. Enid Blyton and Raymond Chandler: “Who you nodding at, kiddo? This ain’t toy town any more!”
  4. Daniel Defoe and Jonathan Swift: “It was a journey greater than any they’d written about, but they would be back by Friday”