Watching the figures skating

Press, 21 December 1981, Page 16

Watching the figures skating

Figure skating is an unusually suitable sport for showing on TV. It is amenable to continuous close-ups by the camera without losing anything to do with scale or relativity. Moreover, the 1980 world contest (One, Saturday) celebrated figure skating in the sense that some of the female contestants could have gone straight through to the other “Miss World.”

Where ice-skating has it over, say. football as a closeup camera study is that, to understand what is going on, the viewer has no need to know where the player is coming from or where he is going to. This is the advantage of having no-one else on the field (or perhaps one other) or, in fact, no field. The favourite camera shot of the straining sportsman’s shoulder in full flight is perfectly air right on the ice rink because the contestant is not aiming for any particular place; and there is no loss of viewer comprehension through a total inability to know how far away the line or the wicket or the net is, and what hazards or barriers may lie between the present position and that target. . Figure skating is really dancing of a kind: ballet in

the ballroom. This probably makes it an art rather than a sport, even if it is one of the Olympic table. The top ones not only make their art look perfection, it is verging on perfection for the judges themselves, so that 9.9 out of 10 became a commonplace. Since they are so inseparable it seems that anyone could learn this accomplishment if he worked hard enough. Does this make it all art and no skill?

All that apart, figure skating is agreeable to watch at home, where it's warmer than having puffs of air swirling off the ice.

It’s one of the activities where the performers tend to be smiling all the time, like chorus line work and betting on race horses; and unlike jumping, where the eyes pop out, or long-distance running, where the tongue pops out.

Michael Parkinson on Two ran his usual group of people, a timeless sort of show of no obvious vintage which becomes a complete chronological confusion through being a repeat as well.

The only part of it which was different in kind was that Parkinson had a personal statement to preface it. He rambled on fairly mysti-

fyingly, dealing with something about his style of living in England, and whether or not he could prbperly be classed as a millionaire. He had clearly been stung by a remark which has now been lost in the mists of time, and which probably never had much relevance for us impecunious types on this side of the Tasman. All this goes to show that you

should never rely on a repeat or pay much heed to an Englishman talking to Australians. The American Express card holders Parkinson introduced this week were Warren Mitchell, better known as Alf Garnet; Gary Macdonald, better known as Norman Gunston: and Jack Jones, better known as a singer. The first two are comedians, .and were quite comic;

and Jones sang a' song. But what was missing? One was waiting for something like: “Sir Warren, it could be said, could it not. that you are one of the world’s great comedians. And what made you want to climb your heights of comic genius.’ and how did you like the American Exrpess card when you reached your Everest of entertainment?”