Oooah, ooah, aah ... ‘Gliding On’ matures

Press, 9 August 1985, Page 15

Oooah, ooah, aah ... ‘Gliding On’ matures

r ■ ■ I Review |

Ken Strongman

“Gliding On" has matured. It is confident and unselfconscious, both in its writing and its acting; a good sitcom, every bit as good as “Are You Being Served” for example. Its caricatured characters have become so familiar that they are no longer caricatures and seem more like old friends. One would actually like to see Beryl’s Mum, Jim’s Mabel and John’s Christine.

Like all sitcoms, “Gliding On” is based on stereotypes. Are they correct? Are there Beryls and Jims out there, whether in the public service or not? Are there offices where nothing is ever achieved? Are there telephones that only ring with the equivalent of Beryl’s Mum on them? Whether there are or not, “Gliding On” has become so familiar that one has come to believe that there are.

If one plays the critic’s game and gives detailed attention to what is going on, then most of the time the characters engage in very silly, pointless conversations, but it doesn’t matter — which is perhaps

what makes for good sitcoms. The atmosphere is massively good-humoured, tolerant, and kind and there are moments of genuine humour. All of which makes a very pleasant change. Meanwhile, in and out pops Raewyn, who is lovely, a slightly upbeat Lynn of Tawa. One can only hope her Kevin deserves her.

Jim is amazingly crude and Beryl is amazingly, primly, disapprovingly noncrude. Hugh is very nearly the perfect expatriot, except that he does not hanker after Wales quite enough. But he is satisfactorily and unerringly a pom, whatever he does. They and the rest of the cast send up a good proportion of New Zealand society, although they could do with a Billy T. to send up the remainder.

This week’s episode was a sort of tribute to or acknowledgement of housework done by women. It show r ed that there is some substance behind the jocularity, a great deal of subtlety in the writing. When done by womenless men, everything went wrong and it was impossible to be sure whether Roger Hall was confirming stereotypes or not. My suspicion is that he was not, but he was cleverly getting away with the best of both worlds, exploring the stereotypes by criticising them. It could well appeal to those on both sides of the debate.

Overall, there is not much wrong with “Gliding On;” it is vastly better than it was a couple of years ago. The studion audience can be a bit much, finding the sight of a lavatory pan the occasion for hilarity. But this is a quibble and should be set against the memorable cricket match earlier in the series.

Thinking of the New Zealand character, Sunday’s play “Out in the Cold” by Greg McGee was excellent. It was not good television,

being so obviously a stage play transposed, it did not make proper use of the medium, but this did not matter. Again, the acting and the writing were first rate and there were an enormous number of important observations packed into one hour.

Truly, accurately brilliant was the character of Strawberry, delightfully acted by Michael Lawrence. This was a fine portrayal of a young man pushing away the horror of his own gentleness being squashed, squeezed and crushed by an awful working life through a cultivated, crude, blustering, macho extraversion. This was a fierce reflection of one of the more unpleasant aspects of the reality that surrounds us. Before you burst into vibrant protest, bear in mind that this was a moving description of a genuine gentleman whose life did not allow him to show it, all portrayed by subtle hints at the cracks in the crude facade.

Finally, just two words on the repeat screening of “Boys from the Black Stuff.” Watch it.