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A preoccupation with the forgettable

A curious little show ingratiates itself on to the screen on Saturday nights. This is the 10-minute “I Like That One: Two,” running at quite prime time. It pretends to-be viewers’ “favourite scenes” from recent programmes, “repeated by request.” It has all the hallmarks of being an office jackup. The whole thing is shrouded in anonymity; and if a viewer did happen tq send in a request there is no reason to expect that it would be heeded.

There is no denying that the idea behind this programme is good. Sparks of originality on the screen commonly turn out to have seen first light of

day overseas. The viewer can only wonder if this is the case with “I Like That One," because the potential fails'to be realised in a way that suggests the compilers are somewhat at sea with what, they have been handed.

For a start, the items are far too long: there were only three this week. The essence of this kind of programme has to be pace. And is it absolutley impossible to expect some kind of humour? The items were the ritualistic car chase, an extract from the egregious “Monte Carlo,” and a complete song from “The Muppets.”

“Monte Carlo” is the most plastic of all the shows running at present; it is so “international” as .to be meaningless. At some stage in it a pair of Middle-Euro-pean clowns, accompanied by a strong beat of elevator jazz, will work on the slack wire or pour beer down the front of each other’s bloomers. This week on "I Like That One” it was a couple and a trampoline.

With all due respect to other people’s preferences this kind of act is so blindingly trivial and commonplace that its particular, deliberate choice for a rescreening has to make one fear for the artistic future of the nation. It has to be remembered that the item was repeated on a programme which represents the distillation of a whole week of viewing.

While it is not to be expected that the TV people would willingly make themselves look silly, could they not, in the interest of innocent fun, give an occasional little rerun of the collapse of the system? Philip Sherry: “Now we have the details of this report from Dunedin.” The sound goes bleeeeeth, squaaaaawk, kooooah. The screen goes blank. Philip Sherry: “I’m sorry; we will not be getting that report from Dunedin.” This is not quite the stuff that drives the viewer’s wrist into his crutch with an uncontrollable shriek of joy,

['Review Douglas McKenzie

but it is getting to be on the right lines. Does no-one like this? Has “I Like That One” never been asked for it?

Obviously TV sanitises its material pretty thoroughly before it risks it in public, so there is not much scope for the hilarious blue.

But if they’re going to have a programme like “I Like That One” there is a need for something to make it worth while and justified.

Either it should include many short, sharp items which are positively memorable for any number of reasons, or it should be dropped. Kermit the Frog would be the first to admit that Linda Ronstadt was no more sensational than the rest of them.

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Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/CHP19811123.2.80.1

Bibliographic details

Press, 23 November 1981, Page 14

Word Count
549

A preoccupation with the forgettable Press, 23 November 1981, Page 14

A preoccupation with the forgettable Press, 23 November 1981, Page 14