Classic TV

Lost Gems: Shoot to Kill (1990)

Shoot to Kill

‘The Troubles’ in Northern Ireland were a pretty bloody time. Over 3,600 people were killed in what became a war between the provisional IRA, the British government and other terrorist groups. Although the 70s brought us things like Internment, some people suspect that during the 80s, the British government began to operate a “shoot to kill” policy, letting groups such as the army’s SAS special forces regiment and the Royal Ulster Constabulary kill people without warning if they were suspected terrorists.

In 1982, six terrorist suspects were killed in three separate incidents Northern Ireland by the RUC, allegedly without warning. After an initial internal RUC inquiry which revealed that one police offer had been told to lie in his statements, another inquiry, headed by John Stalker of the Greater Manchester Police, was convened. Between 1984 and 1986, Stalker investigated the shootings but just before he could make his final report, he was removed from the inquiry and suspended from duty after allegations were made he associated with criminals. Colin Sampson of the West Yorkshire Police then took over the investigation, but his findings were never made public. Stalker alleges that during his inquiry, he was repeatedly blocked, his offices bugged and there was attempts to cover up an informal but unwritten shoot-to-kill policy.

In 1990, Yorkshire Television dramatised the investigation as Shoot To Kill, a brilliant and engrossing four-hour drama documentary directed by Peter Kosminsky (who recently directed The Promise for Channel 4). The film had originally been intended to be a straight documentary as part of ITV’s First Tuesday strand. However, no one was willing to appear on-camera, partly because of the Official Secrets Act – as Kosminsky put it “They were either dead, disappeared or not allowed to talk to us.” Simultaneously, Zenith, the production company behind Inspector Morse, was looking into making a drama about the inquiry so Yorkshire Television’s head of drama, Keith Richardson, suggested merging the two projects. When Detective Chief Superintendent John Thorburn – Stalker’s number two on the investigation and the man who was in charge of the day-to-day running of the inquiry – agreed to act as a consultant, the dramatisation got the go-ahead.

Despite its four-hour run-time, the drama was utterly gripping. Starring Jack Shepherd as John Stalker, David Calder as John Thorburn and TP McKenna as Sir John Hermon (yes, three guys named John), it was nominated for a BAFTA award in the Best Single Drama category, and won the 1990 award in that category from both the Royal Television Society and the Broadcasting Press Guild. The Sunday Times critic Patrick Stoddart described it as Kosminsky’s “first and massively impressive drama”. Chris Dunkely of the Financial Times said it was “the sort of programme that makes me want to stand up and cheer”, calling it “admirable” and “remarkably even handed”, with “splendid performances… and very superior camerawork and editing. Given that Kosminsky has never made a drama before it is an astonishing achievement. But above all a heartening one”. Ian Christie in the Daily Express called it remarkable and gripping, concluding that “the film was compelling, the script and direction incisive, the performances first rate”. Nancy Banks Smith in The Guardian compared the “sense of tension and throttling pressure” of the second part to that of a “Western by a great master… Will he get them before they get him? Even though you know he won’t, you feel he might.”

However, despite the plaudits, Shoot to Kill has never been repeated or released on video or DVD. Why? Well, in October 1990, John Harmon sued Yorkshire Television for libel over how he’d been portrayed – according to Kosminsky, the libel action eventually boiled down to “how much cold tea we had put in Jack Hermon’s brandy glass”. Yorkshire settled out of court in June 1992 for £50,000 (allegedly) and suspicion is that one of the terms of the agreement was that there should be no repeats – or maybe Yorkshire just didn’t want any more trouble.

Whatever the reason, that was before the Internet and some enterprising young gentleman somewhere has uploaded all four hours of Shoot to Kill to YouTube and you can watch it below. Quality is VHS grade, unsurprisingly, but Shoot to Kill itself is still one of the best drama-documentaries ever made on British TV. Oh, and the final report of Stalker Inquiry, with up to 40 members of the RUC allegedly accused of criminal or disciplinary charges? Still not released.

Classic TV

Lost Gems: Hot Metal (1986-1988)

Hot Metal

Anyone who was around in the 80s will remember the fun Rupert Murdoch brought to the newspaper industry here in England. The move from Fleet Street to Wapping, his acquisition of The Times, his fights with the unions – I’d go on, but it would only depress me.

Such ‘fun’ was actually ripe for satire and David Renwick and Andrew Marshall, who’d written a previously vicious and satirical sitcom, Whoops Apocalypse, decided they would do the same for the Murdoch press. Made by LWT, Hot Metal (the name given to printing presses by the industry) ran from 1986 and 1988 and followed the fortunes of The Daily Crucible, the world’s dull newspaper, after its acquisition by Terence “Twiggy” Rathbone (Robert Hardy). Its editor, Harry Stringer (Geoffrey Palmer), gets ‘promoted’ to managing editor and a new, more exciting editor found: Russell Spam (Robert Hardy – again. The running gag is, of course, that everyone thinks they’re the same person, until they’re spotted side by side; but metaphorically, Spam and Rathbone are two sides of the same coin, just as say Kelvin MacKenzie and Rupert Murdoch were).

Spam then takes the paper downmarket, turning The Crucible as its now called into a sensation-seeking red top. He’s helped by journalist Greg Kettle (Richard Kane), who intimidates his victims by claiming to be “a representative of Her Majesty’s press” and produces stories such an allegation that a vicar is a werewolf. Throughout the first series, there was also a running plot involved cub reporter Bill Tytla (John Gordon Sinclair) gradually uncovering an actual newsworthy story that went to the very heart of government.

Come the second series, Stringer has left after vanishing in a mysterious aircraft accident, to be replaced by former daytime chat show host Richard Lipton (Richard Wilson), while John Gordon Sinclair has been replaced by Maggie Troon (Caroline Milmoe). In all, 12 episodes were made as well as a Comic Relief special in which Rathbone moves into satellite TV (just like Rupert Murdoch) with the aid/opposition of the returning Stringer.

It was a delightfully funny, delightfully vicious satire of the industry that’s as relevant more than two decades later as it was at the time. There’s not much of it I can show you right now bar these two bits from the first episode and that Comic Relief special, but enjoy – it has a great theme tune by Alan Price, best known for his work in the pop group The Animals as well as the various Lindsay Anderson films O Lucky Man! and Britannia Hospital. Happily however, you can get it on DVD.

A heads-up for Network Awesome

Just a little heads-up for Network Awesome, which is a slightly awesome web site that’s a bit like a TV station. It doesn’t actually make programmes, but instead has a daily playlist of old TV and movies that they think is worth watching. They’re currently airing an episode of The Prisoner a week and were showing the BBC’s 1984 last night, so give them a try.

Classic TV

Old Not Quite Gems: The Highwayman (1987)

The Highwayman

Glen A Larson was, as I may have mentioned once, twice or possibly even three times before, one of the most powerful US TV producers of the late 70s and 80s. The creator of Battlestar Galactica, Magnum PI, Buck Rogers in the 25th Century and Knight Rider, among other shows, he shaped the face of US television for pretty much a decade. Some of his shows did well, others not so much, but he was still one of the most influential people in television.

However, things started to peter out for him by the end of the decade, and one of his last shows – before he eventually hit rock bottom with Night Man – was The Highwayman, a poorly remembered (and slightly poor) show that aired largely in the wee small hours of the night over here in the UK. It was set in the near future where, as the narrator at the beginning of each episode said, “There is a world just beyond now where reality rides a razor-thin seam between fact and possibility, where the laws of the present collide with the crimes of tomorrow. Patrolling these vast outlands is a new breed of lawman, guarding the fringes of society’s frontiers they are known simply as Highwayman and this is their story.”

Part Mad Max, part Max Headroom, the basic idea was that in the “near future” (1992) a group of law enforcement officers who dress like bikers roam the desert roads of America, trying to prevent crimes. Most of these crimes will apparently be quite futuristic, involving aliens, robots, cloning, time travel and mind-reading among other things. To prevent these crimes, they have futuristic weapons and, in keeping with Larson’s other super-technology shows, trucks that can turn invisible and the cabins of which can separate off as helicopters or cars.

Who exactly these law enforcement officers worked for is unclear, but in the pilot episode they worked for Claudia Christian (Babylon 5), in subsequent episodes Jane Badler (V and Mission: Impossible). The hero of the piece was Sam J Jones (Flash in the movie Flash Gordon), who’s only called The Highwayman or “Highway” throughout. After the pilot episode, he’s joined by another Highwayman, Jetto, played by Australian ‘actor’ and Aussie rules football star Mark “Jacko” Jackson (which gave us the timeless on-screen credit “co-starring Jacko as Jetto”) and Tim Russ (Star Trek: Voyager, Samantha Who?) as an engineer with a very bad moustache who helps fix his truck when it has problems.

Jones fit the part exactly as “Highway”, but largely and despite guest appearances from the likes of Jimmy Smits, G Gordon Liddy and Rowdy Roddy Piper, this was a very poor show. The scripts were fun but dumb, it had a slightly catchy theme, but the action was a little lacking – although briefer in duration than Manimal‘s transformation scenes, the inevitable copter-separation only slowed things down – and it was too low budget to do much well. Jacko was also an incredibly bad actor. Just terrifyingly bad. Which made every scene he was in like fingernails down a blackboard.

You can watch most of it on YouTube, but here are the starts of a few episodes.