Future shot

Press, 26 November 1980, Page 23

Future shot

Review

John Collins

The fact that everyone now knows who shot J. R. Ewing, of “Dallas,” is clearly not going to deter the evil architects of Television New Zealand, creators and guardians of Television New Zealand Time.

Under Official N.Z.T.T., J. R. Ewing still has some time to go before he gets his — or almost gets his, in fact. A high source within Television New Zealand, “Deep Tube,” has leaked part of the promotional material that accompanied the announcement of the new (N.Z.T.T.) season’s line-up starting in February, 1981, (Earth Time). “There'll be one burning Question in the minds of thousands of viewers when the very popular ‘Dallas’ returns to the screen in the new season after the Christmas break,” croons the blurb, according to “Deep Tube.” “Who shot J. R.?”

This is without doubt the television question of the year (N.Z.T.T,” — Ed.) He’s the most hated man in the television world, his "popularity” reaching cult proportions as his fate approaches. English papers battle to outdo each other with reports on his dirty doings and bookmakers take thousands of dollars on the assailant’s identity. "So who did shoot J. R.? The six top suspects are . . .”

“Deep Tube” has also revealed that the new “Dallas” series will begin on March 3 and will run for 19 weeks. Presumably, J. R. will be shot in the last one. So, in an inconsistency that may be the first crack leading to the collapse of the dam of N.Z.T.T., Television New Zealand is already trying to drum up interest in the aversion of who performed a shooting that is months away (N.Z.T.T.) — thus admitting the presence of Earth Time — while pretending that we don’t know all who did it — thus denying the existence of Earth Time.

Once the person who has shot/will shoot J. R. has done the dirty deed in N.Z.T.T., there should still be plenty of work for, er, that person. That person could do worse than start with “Health ’80” (Two, Monday), a three-part series on bringing up children that seems to have captured the very essence of the confusion and condescension that seems to characterise so many locally-made programmes. Confusion, because there

are some things that it is a waste of time to try to teach in three half-hour television programmes, and it would be hard to think of a better example than bringing up children. Confusion, because the two episodes so far have been a violently indigestible mix of flat skits, three-second interviews, and actors trapped in stethoscopes pretending to be doctors. Condescension, because the useful information — and there was some — was lost in a presentation that seemed to assume every viewer to be a nine-year-old, and not a very , bright nine-year-old at that. It seems puzzling, at first, in a country in which it is illegal to talk to anyone under 16 about contraception, that a public television service has made a series for nine-year-olds about bringing up children. Yet, come to think of it, it’s really quite consistent. The use of ithe term, “public television,” might puzzle those who heard the Prime Minister refer on the news on Monday to something called “Govern-ment-owned” television. His use of that phrase in his complaints against Sunday’s “Close Up” did much to explain his history of irritation with criticism that those of us used to a less monolithic view of society might accept as just part of the democratic interplay. Mr Muldoon has every right to be annoyed and call for an inquiry if he thinks a public, or indeed a private, television service has disseminated “anti-Government propaganda” — so long as he is willing to differentiate, as broadcasters also must, between criticism that hurts and an unfair and distorting account. He might also like to use such an inquiry to explain why what we think of as public television, he thinks of as Government television. With that confusion out of the way, public television might be left more often to get on with its job of monitoring what the Government is doing, whether the Government likes it or not.