Winding down to Christmas

Press, 27 December 1985, Page 13

Winding down to Christmas

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Ken Strongman

There are some days on which television does not add up to much. Even with good will and reviewing pen poised, there is not a lot to say. Perhaps it was to do with hanging around waiting for Christmas, but last Sunday was like that After several tries during the day, when “University Challenge” was over, the off button had to be wearily punched. There was no rancour involved, but since “Radio With Pictures” is finished and since, last week, Fanny Price eventually got what she had never dared to speak about from Mansfield, the evening yawned ahead.

During the day, the only comment-worthy programme was the “World Sports Acrobatic Championships.” Men, womeh and others completed an amazing range of movements, mainly while balanced on one another’s heads. They tend to be a bit beefier than

the ordinary gymnasts, especially the Bulgars. It was all very impressive, but the music seemed wrong and gave everything a slight touch of “The Two Ronnies.”

Worse than this, however, there were moments when there seemed to be something almost unsavoury about it. This idea was probably unsupportable in the end, but there it is. For example, the Polish men’s four, in black, looked very menacing indeed, like flying swastikas, and then minced off the mat The Chinese women’s threes had a routine that was nonsensically appraised by the judges as “too manly.’’ A commenta-

tor said: '“The Poles have gone fbr a very small top mounter.” See what I mean? There was just a hint of something which was best left unexplored. Perhaps that is what was off-putting about last Sun- ’ day’s offerings; there was something just wrong with each of them. “TV’s Blooper’s and Practical Jokes” has long since shot its bolt They had to tell us that this was a “very unique” programme. The next will have to be “uniquely unique.” The genuine mistakes are compulsive viewing,- but there are fewer and fewer of them.

There is little that is. more boring than watching laboured practical jokes being played on people who one does not know. Ten minutes were spent trying to deliver 60 pigs to the suburban house of an American television actreess. It was all good-

humoured enough, but only in a wry smile sort of way, rather than belly laughs.

Then there was “The Makutu on Mrs Jones” which in some ways was an excellent 20 minutes of New Zealandia.

It was like a line drawing on film, reflecting some basic values and a little of the Maori, Pakeha dilemma. It was black magic versus white wiles and had some fine acting from Annie Whittle. The problem, »was that, in retrothe story was barely worth telling.

After this it was into the final of “University Challenge,” with Peter Sinclair and the teams looking as though they were almost down to their undies for the end. Once again, it was pleasant enough television, keeping the attention just in case there was an occasional answer that rose from the muddy sludge at

the bottom of the end of year brain. ' - « The trouble is that it is very difficult to find anything to say about “University Challenge," particularly from the moment when it appeared that Auckland would win. There is something essentially, fundamentally tedious about spelling, and planets, and something worse about computer languages. And words such as Plantagenet and Tudor are instantly wearisome. Having thought such r • dreary thoughts, and in spite of bright-voiced Peter Sinclair, suddenly Auckland had won. It must have been a fix.

Some television days are just like this. You choose the wrong programmes to watch and watch, them anyway, too lethargic to do otherwise. Never mind, by now Christmas is over and all the various mini-series have begun. By comparison, they will make almost everything seem better.