An overlap of the excellent

Press, 11 July 1980, Page 11

An overlap of the excellent

Review

Ken Strongman

• Five minutes alone in a darkened room with Wednesday night’s television programmers would give me lasting pleasure. It is difficult to imagine the perverse character of a person who would consciously arrange an overlap between what, as it turns out, are two of the high spots of the week. “MacPhail and Gadsby” (One) and “Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy” (Two). It is not as though every evening is so packed with the superlative the clashes are inevitable. There can be no excuse. Anyway, the result was that one was able to see only second half of “T,T,S,S,” and therefore can comment little. Although first-rate, it has the intricacy of a Chinese puzzle, even when one is allowed the full hour. Seeing only some is like having access to only half the pieces. Even so, Alec Guiness was excellent, his very movements capturing the feel of George Smiley. However, although I’ve read the book, I’ve still no idea what is going on. “MacPhail and Gadsby” on religion was just about worth the later confusion. Their series is going to succeed, rather than MacPhail, that is. Some people will watch it with enjoyment, and others with righteous indignation, which of course is equally enjoyable. They have followed a format which somehow amalgamates those used by Dave Allen, Benny Hill, and the Two Ronnies — a mixture of studio interchanges and filmed sketches. It was not continuous hilarity from start to finish, but they had their moments. It was refreshing that the material was currently relevant to New Zealand for a change, rather than to Great Britain in the mid-19705. For the most part, the jokes and ideas were new, at least to me, and showed a genuine creativity rather than the watereddown form that comes from diluting the welltried. Doubtless the irreverence of their sketches will have upset many people. But so they should. Satire should have some bite to it. I would argue that it is in far better taste than the non-sati-rical, semi-dramatisation of the Mount Erebus disaster which appeared

on the news a few weeks ago. , If for no other moments, “MacPhail and Gadsby” last Wednesday will be remembered for two of the lines. “I’m God aren’t I? 1 can do what I bloody well like.” The parallel with various politicians in various places comes readily to mind. Later was a Two-Ronnies like song featuring M. and G. as the singing nuns. It ended with “Amen” replaced by “u-up you-ours.” One’s most irreligiously creative moments as a boy chorister produced nothing with this impact. Choirmasters will be cursing (with restraint of course) all over New Zealand. “MacPhail and Gadsby” was not perfect. Somehow they did not make enough use of the camera; thev did not speak to us or look at us enough. At times, it was as though we were watching them up to their tricks through a one-way mirror. Their sheer exuberance carried them through though. It is always good to see people who are enjoying their work. They also did a far betjob ordering their sketches than could have been achieved bv television programmers. There was a delightful sequence which at long last has given a new twist to the Human Rights Act. After all, why shouldn’t a man become a nun? This was followed by MacPhail as a religious garage-owner who had formed his own church. A nice juxtaposition, given certain local events. I wish MacPhail and Gadsby success with this series, and hope that they go on to rail at • things political and economic. Something we need a little more of in New Zealand is a forthright unbiased tor on the country’s institutions, including its human edifices. In their indirect, satirical way, people like MacPhail and Gadsby begin to do the job which should be done more directly although less enterprisingly by members of the Establishment itself.