From hope to embarrassment

Press, 30 August 1985, Page 15

From hope to embarrassment

Review

Ken Strongman

In spite of recent vows not to review late afternoon programmes, circumstances have again forced the issue. On Monday last, it led to a pleasant surprise and an unfortunate comparison. “Judo Champ” was not a promising title. It could have been lifted from the “Hotspur” or “Wizard” of 40 years ago, except that judo would have been too esoteric for them. But it was an excellent programme.

A Scottish lad and his parents arrive in London to live. He is a judo black belt and misses his old mentor. The scenes shift from him dealing with the niceties of life in Clapham — “Ere Jockstrap” “Ma name’s John, d’ye think ye can rememberer that?” — to early morning runs over the misty sodden common whilst he thinks aloud of his latest letter back to his teacher. Within a few deft strokes a picture was painted of most, if not all, of the dilemmas of teen-age life — the individual versus society, the class struggle, ethnic identity, aggression versus style, competition versus co-operation, short and long term goals, striving for praise versus striving for its own sake. It was all there and young John picked his way through it with great sensibility. The acting and writing were first rate and, moment by moment, emotions were evoked, tossed about and dropped, as others took their place. As is so often the case with'' British productions, at least those seen in New Zealand, every detail was properly attended to. Even some mystical, Zen types of questions, such as “is strength the only way of resisting power?” were posed without making one picture squat Japanese gentlemen leaping five metres into the air and landing in slow motion half-way down the street.

So, in spite of its name, “Judo Champ” was an impressive programme. It was thought-provoking, but had plenty of action. It was not vicious, but was realistic. It was neither condescending nor patronising. In short, it was credible and it even had as good a finishing line as one could wish to hear. “The problem is knowing the best day to change the whole direction of your life.” It might just be worth

taking up judo, or becoming Scottish, or becoming 15. Elevated and optimistic, and feeling that modern youth might somehow survive after all, “The Kids from 0.W.L.” shattered this within a couple of minutes. It was like being dropped into a vat of old sump oil. Since the programme features teenagers with physical disabilities, it will probably be considered bad form to criticise it. However, whatever angle one views it from, it is not just poor, it is embarrassingly bad.

The kids themselves, who look as though they might be perfectly pleasant, are, unaccountably, made to spit out their words, even when they are thinking to themselves. They moan and complain constantly, never about their disabilities of course, but there is a hint of sarcasm in everything that they say, as though they are making a doomed attempt to be amusing. The adults speak brightly and giggle a lot.

Monday’s episode contained a American oilman played by an actor whose attempt at an American accent sounded like a drunken Irish West Indian. He spoke his words against a back-drop which looked as though it had been pieced together from cardboard and painted in the dark. Each week the kids pit their wits against the evil-doers from 5.L.1.M.E., and everything becomes sillier by the moment.

Who watches “The Kids from 0.W.L.”? No doubt it is aimed at doing a useful job to show that disabilities need not stand in the way of a full life. But why not do it properly? As it is, it has little credibility. It is not serious and not amusing and has no obvious message. It is nothing, and must embarrass the writers, actors, director and producer as much as the viewer. Perhaps I’ve missed the point and it is meant to be embarrassingly bad. If so, why? Even more important, it might be just a touch patronising to the disabled.