The wilderness evenings

Press, 26 November 1982, Page 15

The wilderness evenings

[Review

Ken Strongman

One of the defining characteristics of addiction is symptoms of withdrawal. After some time without the drug, there are many unpleasant physical experiences. Two weeks of other commitments having precluded any interaction with the brightly flickering opiate of the masses. I can confirm that television is not addictive. Other than the occasional twitch of my channelchanging hand, and a moment or two of uncontrollable panic at about the time of “The Young Doctors,” there have been no withdrawal symptoms at all. Evenings have expanded into mini-lifetimes, people, willing to converse, have emerged from the gloom beyond the box. and a voice rusted from disuse has begun to creak and squeak in an attempt to revive nearlyforgotten practices. It is not easy. Once . started, such evenings are relentless. The calming relief of the advertisements, which suspend all life every few minutes, does not exist in this harsh world.

Going cold turkey like this -is similar to leaving town for a while. There is an effect of distance which helps to put things into perspective. It is possible to find out who one’s television friends really are. The sequence of thoughts, showing just how extreme the reaction can be if one is not careful, goes something like: I don’t care if I never see TV again, we’ll get rid of it: no, what about the children? just the occasional programme then, that I really want to see, and the

news of course, and “Country Calendar." Perhaps “Kaleidoscope.” And pretty soon, one is no doubt back with “The Young Doctors,” the fresh perspective of distance jaded once more by proximity. Meanwhile, there is a genuine period, and long may it last, when some programmes are anticipated with honest pleasure. Top of the list is the repeated series of “Not the 9 o’clock News.” It. is even funnier the second time round, with Rowan Atkinson’s stand-up, fingerwaving, “bloody” - ridden diatribes against the world arousing all manner of hope-lessly-inept attempts at imitation. His is a formidable talent.

Next, surprisingly, comes the news. Again, it is only absence which makes one realise the reliance one places on that early-evening hour when one’s own life can be set against the backdrop of world events. It is a time composed of calm reflection at the sight of man’s inhumanity to man, and the pleasure of righteous rage at the same thing.

The hour from 6.30 to 7.30 clearly exercises a therapeutic function. One can sit in the sanctity of home and fulminate comfortably against politicians, businessmen, economists, religious leaders, trade unionists and experts of all sorts. TVNZ programmers recognise this important psychological function of the news and repeat it in different form at 9.30. It is probably self-indul-gent to watch both.

After this, time out from television leaves one with a

view of the week which has just a few highspots, depending a little on mood. So, one can simultaneously look forward to “Minder,” repeated or not. and for not very different reasons, to “The Wilderness Years." They both involve clever, fasttalking manipulators of the system. Other than this, there is not really very much. Sitcoms and series such as “Tenko” are soon forgotten and, like comics, can be put down and picked up at will. At the moment, with the maturity and wisdom afforded by a tellyless time, it

seems best to leave them lying. Always the realist, however, one knows that television is insidious, one programme will lead to another. and it won t be long before one is hooked, but not addicted of course. What has been happening in “The Young Doctors.” anyway?