Sofa so good

Press, 14 August 1980, Page 15

Sofa so good

Review

Ken Strongman

Remember; those halcyon days of post-war steam radio when the highlights of the • week were “Much Binding in the Marsh” and “Take it From Here,” and the highspot of the latter was Ron and Eth on the sofa? It is amazing how well jt:.has been transmuted to television as “The Glums” (Two, Tuesday). The fat, headmasterish Jimmy Edwards sounds no different, and lan Lavender just plays himself as Ron. It is all just another vehicle- for Frank Muir and Dennis Norden 'to show us how clever they are. They succeed, but heaven knows what anyone under 35 or so makes of it; probably not a lot. ■From post-war London, the magic of television’s Tuesday space-time continuum rushes us to modern America. The inexorably sexist Charlie has got himself another entirely plastic, virginally nubile, boringly un-iouched-by-human-hand Angel. In so doing, he has raised the total I.Q. of the three up to a level which almost approximates that of a higher-grade wallaby (note the small “w”; no racism here). In an interview, they- themselves have described their appeal as in large part due, .in the inimitable words of Ronnie Barker, to unfettered knockers. The latest Angel, fallen or otherwise, is so ill-endowed in- this respect that the presence or absence of fetters is immaterial. It is pointless to refer to the typical plot of “Charlie’s Angels” (Two). Suffice it to say that it could be easily understood by the Angels themselves.

“Once upon a time there were three little girls who went to police college.” It is all such obvious, crude manipulation that it is surprising that anyone should be fooled. If only the voices of the Angels were less like fin-ger-nails scraping on. saucepans, watching them would at least be a way of warming up ' cranky television sets in time for “Fawlty Towers” (Two). What a marvellous set of characters. Basil Fawlty is like a frenetic, manicdepressive Hitler who has spent some time on the rack. He is the holder of such superb stereotypes and prejudices, and a man so beset by the stupidities of those around him while himself remaining entirely blameless, that he commands instant sympathy. His wife, the odious Sybil, epitomises all that is hateful in the shallow, jum p e d-up, gossiping, middle-class woman with a hair-do. Manuel is perfect; ingenuous, k»>.d, fighting to understand a foreign language, and entirely, but temporarily smashed into the ground by Basil, with words if not blows. Connie, the maid, is the sharp-talking foil of normality against which these and a host of bizarre but credibly minor characters are set.

This week,’ Basil had to deal with a visiting

American who was gently critical of England and all things English in that charming way they have which involves a gravel voice and money to buy people as well as things. Nothing is better suited to insinuate its way up Basil’s nostrils. The guests are late, the staff has disappeared, Sybil is no help, and Basil has to do everything. Eventually, everyone is whipped up into complaining and Basil leaves, for a few seconds. Basil Fawlty could be or do anything. He could have been the mainstay of the Third Reich. He could run a primary school or a country. He could have created debacles at places like Spion Kop even more comprehensively than the leaders of the time. In the right uniform he could even be a meter maid. “Fawlty Towers” is a thoroughly absorbing halfhour; it passes all too quickly. It is harsh, cruel and accurate, and leaves one feeling simultaneously tense and drained. It is an entirely original blend of the zany, the sarcastic, and the ironic. The sheer horror it engenders reaches its peak on those occasions when one meets someone who not only does not find it funny but is embarrassed by it. A moment’s reflection goes to show that such persons are themselves just like Basil Fawlty. They have his stereotypes, opinions, and values, and feel the world is out to get them. Perhaps that is what finally makes "Fawlty Towers” such a very funny programme. “Coping’s easy. It’s not pureeing your loved ones that’s difficult,” as Basil would say.