Oh, decisions decisions

Press, 14 May 1985, Page 19

Oh, decisions decisions

r Reviewl

Ken Strongman

The chances are high that jotted throughout the week there are programme hashes that make some people think that the programmers are Martians. Some clashes, however, are harder to understand than others. For instance, my guess is that much the same people would like to watch s Hill Street Blues” and “The Tuesday Documentary.” The same goes for “Cheers,” “A Fairly Secret Army” and “Eye Witness News.” I would also like to think that somewhere there is someone else who would like to watch both “Radio With Pictures” and “Sunday.” Some programming decisions are even more puzzling than these. Should one wish to slump in front of the box at 7.30 p.m. on Friday, the choice is between the Scylla of “Coronation Street” and the Charybdis of “The Dukes of Hazzard.” Jaded from the week, and with the energy of a fading mushroom, this choice is almost too much to cope with. In the event, hope springing eternal, last Friday it was “The Dukes,” unseen by this human eye for the last two years. Nothing had changed, the cars still spending as much time in the air as on the ground. The good guys still have hearts of gold and heads of lead. The bad guys are still not really bad, just selfcentred and simple-minded. The other way to tell the difference is that the tyres of the bad guys’ cars do not squeal as effectively as those of the good guys.

It was as though two years had not intervened. No-one in Hazzard is a match for the Dukes, so the evil professional comes in from outside. Although dastardly (last Friday he was an escaped criminal who happened to be a master of disguise) he is eventually overcome by the Dukes with Boss Hogg attempting to take the credit plus any available pickings. They have all become older and some of them are greyer and fatter. The Duke boys already have a hint of successful middle-aged puffiness. Eventually, they will be unable to slide in and out of their car windows and even Daisy will be unable to slide in and out of her jeans. With luck, this could bring the series to a natural conclusion. “The Dukes of Hazzard” produces two main reactions. Physically, one seems to have a hot water bottle resting on one’s neck and shoulders. This makes clothes itchy and leg muscles twitch. Eyes screw up in frowns of consternation. These are the advanced symptoms of chronic

tedium. They are heightened by the other reaction which is a sort of guilty embarrassment at the demeaning of the human condition that comes from watching it at all.

Anyway, it did dredge up one thought from brain cells which seemed set for instant decay. It seems very unlikely that anyone would take the comic book stunts of the Duke boys seriously enough to mimic them. It is all such impossible, insubstantial rubbish that the likelihood of anyone finding it beguiling enough to emulate is slim. In any case, those who own cars are probably asleep in front of “Coronation Street,” if they are not out in them.

In the following hour, at 8.30 p.m., the programmers have probably got it right, for the moment. It is lightweight comedy versus culture. Thinking about a sheep, a lamb and a hanging, I forsook Shona McFarlane on “Highway One” for Lorraine Chase in “The Other ’Arf.” George Bernard Shaw did a pretty fair job with “Pygmalion,” but by now the humour to be squeezed from the British class system is down to a few droplets. People no longer fall about when they hear dropped aitches and rhyming slang contrasting with plummy voices. As sitcoms go, however, “The Other ’Arf’ has more to help it on its way than “We’ve Got It Made” which follows it. This is almost its American equivalent, class being replaced with some mixture of levels of education, intellect and privilege. It is vastly yawnful and makes the big “K” seem very attractive. Mind you, if it were Lorraine Chase rather than Shona McHighway . . .

failpiece. Two questions: Why do we have to see the advertisements for McDonalds when their products are not available in the South Island? Why can’t Television New Zealand find someone to assume an authentic London accent when advertising "Minder”?