A foreign correspondence

Press, 16 December 1988, Page 11

A foreign correspondence

Ken Strongman

on television

A fair proportion of television is made for minority groups, and much of it is watchable even if it is not in accord with one’s own interests. Even women’s bowls is bearable in extremis. However, a chance encounter with the occasional programme can seem like eavesdropping. The obvious example of this is News for the Deaf, but even more so was last Tuesday morning’s end of the year ceremony for the Correspondence School. This is the beginning of the desperate season for television critics, so your reviewer, throwing all caution to the wind, poked a bold nose into some very arcane matters. The Correspondence School break-up was amazing television, doubtless important to the prizewinners whose photographs were featured, but wonderfully dull for the ignorant and unconcerned. It was but one small step removed from the village hall, which is often lurking there in the background of TVNZ. At moments, this oldfashioned prize-giving in

the absence of the prizewinners sounded like an awwards ceremony for the uncelebrated. After much “I would like to thank...” from the president of the parents’ association, everyone stood to sing “Angels we have heard on high.” Why is hard to fathom, but the required piano accompaniment and shirt-sleeved conductor were in evidence. It was like being

thrust back into the worst horrors of the arbitrary conventions of school.

There was the obligatory report from the principal, delivered in the style of a courtroom appearance by a policeman on an amphetamine high, not that a policeman ever would be, of course. An immobile face contrasted with more words per minute to have been heard on television since Jim Knox was lamming into the “gummint.” It was a matter of “qual’ cashions,” “Res’ent teach’s” and “termorrer.”

It was a credit to the principal that even at the Correspondence School, he had learned to make his speech as humourless as those at the more conventional variety. He also managed to produce the most dramatic moment of the occasion when he lost his place in his notes. The coughing stopped and the silence was exciting, until, unfortunately, he found his place again.

There were many aspects to this affair which set it apart from the usual school prize-giving, to say

nothing of the usual television programme. People kept saying “And thankyou to the Government,” perhaps because Mr Lange was there; or maybe he was there because he knew they were going to keep saying it. And there were some marvellous prizes, the best being the Women’s Division of Federated Farmers Golden Jubilee Prize. What had been done to merit it was not made clear.

Mr Bolger, who was also on hand, gave a speech which embracedas nice a set of “And now your future lies ahead” platitudes as one might wish for. Then, before the finale of the Prime Minister, came the oddest moment of all. Everyone stood to sing the second verse of “Silent Night.” Why? Why any verse, or if there had to be one, why not the first? This will remain one of life’s great mysteries.

Then there was David Lange, who, even in his firing from the hip voice could not make the occasion any more riveting.

And he knew it. He gradually lapsed into spitting out every other word in a paroxysm of contrived zest. It made one look back on the principal’s speech with some affection. Finally, it was into the first two verses of “God Defend New Zealand,” once in Maori and once in English. Even a commentary by a member of the Dimbleby family could not have turned this into a great television pageant.

On another matter entirely, why was the important “South Bank Show” programme on Morrissey and The Smiths tucked away on “Radio with Pictures,” virtually unannounced? And why are women rarely, if ever, featured in "The South Bank Show’’?

Tailpiece. Who else believes, as I do, that the profligate dismissal of such a large proportion of the TVNZ staff in Christchurch is one of the worst examples so far of the country being dominated entirely by North Island concerns? It is not good enough.