Place for ‘Wait for it’ on ‘Week of It’

Press, 18 August 1979, Page 11

Place for ‘Wait for it’ on ‘Week of It’

By

KEN FRASER

“A Week Of It,’* with as much respect for politicians as Rob Muldoon has for Malcolm Fraser’s public relations men, had another 30 minutes, some of them merry, on Thursday evening, without living up to the promise that had been shown at the start of the new series.

In tune with popular British comedy it tended to lean a trifle heavily on the elasticity of things like underwear — always good for a laugh and sure to whip back drooping eyelids, but only when served in moderation.

Bob Jones with his recent switch from boxing to ballet sponsorship was a ready choice for a David McPahil performance in tights, talking about pas de deux (“father of twins”) and such things. McPhail mimicry of Rob Muldoon, of course, is a regular feature, and on Thursday evening it was at one point against a backdrop of crates of Johnnie Walker. Another Cabinet Minister, Colin McLachlan, was not overlooked, nor was Patricia Bartlett left out, as the

programme then went to door-knocking “Morons,” as one lady called them, through to land slips. The “Week Of It” germ ought to be developed so that we can laugh more at ourselves as a people. By doing that perhaps we can survive in our national crises. Each programme could be longer, taking in virtually untapped material sources, such as sport — where we seem to be enjoying our share of setbacks internationally. Those unfortunate All Blacks and others, who

have to be masochistic to endure a fickle public, would be big enough to take some ribbing on television. Gary Seear, portrayed as “Milk Bottle,” a name coined for him by No. 5 stand spectators at Lancaster Park, Bill Bush as friendly urban guerrilla, Graham Mourie as the Spanish-accented waiter in “Fawlty Towers,” and Mark Donaldson with buttered fingers taped together, could be among those on the programme before the end of the rugby season while we await material from the New Zealand cricketers when the England team tours.

We can’t all appear on television but we could get as representative a range as possible, retaining the political satire with Mr Muldoon at centre stage, but casting the net further to stamp the programme as an almost compulsory viewing highlight for New Zealanders. It would mean greater expense and a bigger team effort on the part of script writers and performers, but what price mental stability against sinking depression. We would be taking a leaf from the book of the Londoners who sang in the underground while bombs rained overhead.

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