Caught the first episode of 'Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip'. Or 'Larry Sanders' meets 'Saturday Night Live'. Thought it was great and since it's already been cancelled in the States it's gonna cut the potential expenditure on DVD box sets. I still haven't gotten around to watching 'The West Wing', yes I know it's the televisual equivalent of goldust flavoured chocolate rainbows, but I just haven't found the time yet, and this show obviously shares much of the same DNA. Many experts felt it got axed because people lost interest pretty quickly when they realised the stakes weren't as high as that thing in the White House, but I'm not sure that's true. I think it has some very important things to say about the way society is going, through censorship dictated by certain religious groups, and just how dumbed down our lives are becoming. Particularly inspiring was Judd Hirsch's rant, as the bitter Exec Producer who gets fired early on...
'This is not going to be a very good show tonight, and I think you should change the channel. Change the channel, go ahead, right now. Better yet, turn off the TV, okay? Hell no, I know it seems like this is supposed to be funny. But tomorrow, you're going to find out that it wasn't, and by that time I'll be fired. Now this, this is not sup- . . . this is not a sketch.
This show used to be cutting-edge political and social satire. But it's gotten lobotomized, by a candy-ass broadcast network hell-bent on doing nothing that might challenge their audience. We were about to do a sketch that you've seen already about 500 times. Yeah, no one's going to confuse George Bush with George Plimpton. Now, we get it.
We're all being lobotomized by this country's most influential industry, that's just thrown in the towel on any effort to do anything that doesn't include the courting of 12-year-old boys. Not even the smart 12-year-olds--the stupid ones, the idiots. Of which there are plenty, thanks in no small measure to this network. So why don't you just change the channel? Turn off your TV? Do it right now. Go ahead.
They say there's a struggle between art and commerce. Well, there's always been a struggle between art and commerce, and I'm telling you, art is getting its ass kicked, and it's making us mean, and it's making us bitchy, it's making us cheap punks. That's not who we are. People are having contests to see how much they can be like Donald Trump? We're eating worms for money. "Who Wants To Screw My Sister?" Guys are getting killed in a war that's got theme music and a logo.
That remote in your hand is a crack pipe. Oh yeah, every once in a while we pretend to be appalled. It’s pornography, and it's not even good pornography. They're just this side of snuff films, and friends, that's what's next, 'cause that's all that's left. And the two things that make them scared gutless are the FCC and every psycho religious cult that gets positively horny at the very mention of a boycott. These are the people they're afraid of. This prissy, feckless, off-the-charts greed-filled whorehouse of a network, I do believe, is thoroughly unpatriotic, mother'— [show cuts to title screen]
Thursday 26 July 2007
Saturday 21 July 2007
Washed up at 28
We recently pitched some sketch ideas for a new sketch show for BBC radio. The brief was very wide, anything would be considered it said, and since there wasn't much time till the deadline, we dusted down a load of old sketches from various other shows we've written for, which they hadn't used but which still made us chuckle, and we sent them in. That's what writers do, you see. Recycle, recycle, recycle. Our carbon footprints are tiny. Our thinking was if the producer liked our stuff, we could fire off some new material more tailored to fit the brief. Or something.
Well, apparently the producer has been inundated with sketches. About a thousand. So that wasn't practical. You see in the old days, most BBC radio sketch shows had an open door policy so you could send in stuff at any time. Then they closed the doors. Except they now open them occasionally on specific shows in an effort to still appear like they give a toss, get absolutely swamped by people who are now desperate to be seen, think it's not worth the effort and close the doors again. Yeah, that's smart.
But that ain't the problem here. The problem is we were told our stuff was funny, but we're writing for 'too old' a crowd. Because you see the cast are aged between 18 and 22. Oh, are they indeed? Are they now? Because, I can't get my head around that. Now, regardless of how radical you want your shiny new sketch show to be, it's got to link to aspects of real life or things that people can relate to. It can distort or exaggerate them for comic effect, but it's gotta consist of dynamics that people can understand. Man and woman, boyfriend and girlfriend, husband and wife, children and parents, old and young, gay and straight. If there's only a four year gap between your cast, and some are still in their flippin' teens, you ain't half limiting yourself with what you can achieve. Now, I don't know who the cast are, some of them might turn out to be great comic performers, but to have such a wide open brief, and then cast actors that young seems to be an incredible contradiction. It makes you feel washed up at 28.
And who is going to listen to a sketch show with a cast that young? On a channel that feeds people a near constant diet of Goon Show and Round the Horne repeats. Does not compute. But that's the BBC mentality at the moment. It drones on about how great 'Doctor Who' is because it appeals to a family audience, then proceeds to make sketch shows that seem to have an age discrimination policy not seen since 'Logan's Run'. If there's a sketch with anyone over 30 in it, it gets zapped. But it's not just here. We've recently worked on sketch shows about gay people, sketch shows about 'northern' people. Why not just do a show about people, all people, whoever they are? The whole point of a sketch show is it should be about anything you like. Anything. But that notion seems to have been lost somewhere.
It makes you think that the BBC should spend less time having internal enquiries about whether or not a researcher pretended to be a contestant on a phone-in quiz, and more time having internal enquiries about just how insular their creative output seems to be.
Well, apparently the producer has been inundated with sketches. About a thousand. So that wasn't practical. You see in the old days, most BBC radio sketch shows had an open door policy so you could send in stuff at any time. Then they closed the doors. Except they now open them occasionally on specific shows in an effort to still appear like they give a toss, get absolutely swamped by people who are now desperate to be seen, think it's not worth the effort and close the doors again. Yeah, that's smart.
But that ain't the problem here. The problem is we were told our stuff was funny, but we're writing for 'too old' a crowd. Because you see the cast are aged between 18 and 22. Oh, are they indeed? Are they now? Because, I can't get my head around that. Now, regardless of how radical you want your shiny new sketch show to be, it's got to link to aspects of real life or things that people can relate to. It can distort or exaggerate them for comic effect, but it's gotta consist of dynamics that people can understand. Man and woman, boyfriend and girlfriend, husband and wife, children and parents, old and young, gay and straight. If there's only a four year gap between your cast, and some are still in their flippin' teens, you ain't half limiting yourself with what you can achieve. Now, I don't know who the cast are, some of them might turn out to be great comic performers, but to have such a wide open brief, and then cast actors that young seems to be an incredible contradiction. It makes you feel washed up at 28.
And who is going to listen to a sketch show with a cast that young? On a channel that feeds people a near constant diet of Goon Show and Round the Horne repeats. Does not compute. But that's the BBC mentality at the moment. It drones on about how great 'Doctor Who' is because it appeals to a family audience, then proceeds to make sketch shows that seem to have an age discrimination policy not seen since 'Logan's Run'. If there's a sketch with anyone over 30 in it, it gets zapped. But it's not just here. We've recently worked on sketch shows about gay people, sketch shows about 'northern' people. Why not just do a show about people, all people, whoever they are? The whole point of a sketch show is it should be about anything you like. Anything. But that notion seems to have been lost somewhere.
It makes you think that the BBC should spend less time having internal enquiries about whether or not a researcher pretended to be a contestant on a phone-in quiz, and more time having internal enquiries about just how insular their creative output seems to be.
What-a Lot-a Potter
Unless you're a moon man living in a cave on the moon with a moon bag over your head, and moon headphones on listening to 'Walking on the Moon', you'll know that the seventh and last Harry Potter book has finally been released. Some people will be very excited by this news. Others won't care. But whatever the case, it's fascinating to witness the scenes of craziness the adventures of the little speccy oik have inspired. Book shops have never seemed so rock n' roll as when they're open at midnight and hoards of people are jostling through the doors. It's highly unlikely we'll ever see scenes like this again. And it's a British author that's made it happen. We should be very proud. I did wonder though, as I saw the people queuing outside Waterstones, whether or not old JK ever has the urge to walk past one at random and shout 'Yeah. I made yo freeze yo asses off, just to buy a damn book . I own you, bitches!'
Because I was there. Well, I was having a drink in Notting Hill with a mate of mine and my girlfriend. She likes the books and a couple of shops were opening late/early, so we hung around for a bit after the pub shut and got a copy. Just the one, JK ain't owning my ass! I think my girlfriend had already read two chapters by the time the night bus dropped us off. Well, not before I'd flicked to the last page to find out what happens. Who'd have though they'd burn Ron in a big Wicker Man, Snape turned out to be Harry's father, Dumbledore was a figment of Hermione's imagination and Hogwarts was Earth all along.
Because I was there. Well, I was having a drink in Notting Hill with a mate of mine and my girlfriend. She likes the books and a couple of shops were opening late/early, so we hung around for a bit after the pub shut and got a copy. Just the one, JK ain't owning my ass! I think my girlfriend had already read two chapters by the time the night bus dropped us off. Well, not before I'd flicked to the last page to find out what happens. Who'd have though they'd burn Ron in a big Wicker Man, Snape turned out to be Harry's father, Dumbledore was a figment of Hermione's imagination and Hogwarts was Earth all along.
Thursday 19 July 2007
Biscuits (Part Two)
Well, the edit for our tribute band show is over. And a day early too. Nice. After, well, nearly fifteen months of stop start work, it's hard to believe it's done, but it seems to have been totally worth it. It's sounding great, everything seemed to cut together really well, we didn't have to lose anything major from any of the shows, and we had a lot of fun doing it. Oh, and the biscuits were very nice again. Being cooped up in a tiny edit suite for two days could have been hell, but it wasn't. We laughed a lot and Paul the engineer was an absolute star. Take a bow that man.
The whole experience has jump started us, I think, and made us want to get cracking on ideas for a new series. And we've already got loads to be getting on with, which is great. Hopefully at least one of them will get picked up by the powers that be.
Because we have a taste for quality biscuits now.
The whole experience has jump started us, I think, and made us want to get cracking on ideas for a new series. And we've already got loads to be getting on with, which is great. Hopefully at least one of them will get picked up by the powers that be.
Because we have a taste for quality biscuits now.
Sunday 8 July 2007
Don-don-don't, don't stop the beat...
DanceX starts next Saturday at 6.55 on BBC1. So that advert keeps telling us. Whether we want to know or not. It could very well turn out to be the campest thing that BBC1's ever shown on a Saturday night (which considering the competition over the last few years, that's really saying something). Thing is, when the voiceover says 'Bruno versus Arlene in the battle to create the ultimate group', all I can hear is 'Bruno versus Ali', which conjurs up visions of perhaps the two most polar opposite heavyweight boxers in history, trying to get a lot of people in leg warmers to jig around a bit in unison. Now there's an idea for a show...
'It's a radio for speaking to God...'
Right, so I'm in this nice little Italian restaurant on Saturday night, when who should I see on the table in the corner but the actor Ron Cook AKA Sean the Irish Bastard from 'The Black Adder' and Mr. Magpie from the Doctor Who story 'The Idiot's Lantern'. Yeah, him off the telly. And he was Parker in the 'Thunderbirds' movie. Oh, and he was in 'Hot Fuzz' too. Worth a couple of anorak points, surely. Then I look a bit closer and he's talking to another actor, Paul Freeman, from 'The Long Good Friday', 'Hot Fuzz' and 'Power Rangers: The Movie'.
Oh yeah, and he played also Belloq in 'Raiders of the Lost Ark'.
I saw Belloq having his dinner! Brilliant. I had to strongly resist the urge to grab his food off him and say 'Again we see there is nothing you can possess which I cannot take away'. Worth about a hundred anorak points, that one.
Oh yeah, and he played also Belloq in 'Raiders of the Lost Ark'.
I saw Belloq having his dinner! Brilliant. I had to strongly resist the urge to grab his food off him and say 'Again we see there is nothing you can possess which I cannot take away'. Worth about a hundred anorak points, that one.
Friday 6 July 2007
'Look who's in the Reject Bin...'
'Raggy Dolls, Raggy Dolls, are happy just to be. Raggy Dolls, Raggy Dolls, dolls like you and me.'
So sang Neil Innes back in the day. Well, that's all well and good for dolls, Neil, but dolls don't have bills to pay and nervous breakdowns to suffer. Dolls don't have to worry about relationships and the like. Although you can't tell me there wasn't something going on between Lucy and Sad Sack. Please. That was totally on. Although they've most likely been married and divorced by now, with Sad Sack getting custody of Lucy's head. There's an obvious parallel between a recent high profile couple going through a divorce, one of which has a removable body part, but...
Anyway. Rejection. Part of being a writer and it always will be. I know that's a cliche, but as someone else once said, something's only a cliche because it happens a lot. This week has been particularly tough.
On Monday we were told that our three radio series proposals under consideration (two music documentaries and a sketch show) will now not become fully formed programmes. As always with these things, no real reason was given. It just is.
We're also still trying to flog a couple of radio sitcom scripts we wrote some time back. We've shown them both to various people, who've blown hot and cold at various stages, and we've persevered because we think they're strong ideas, and no one has really done them yet. This week, we showed them to an experienced in-house radio producer, and his verdict was pretty devastating. Trouble is, he's right. Totally. They just don't work. It kinds of makes you wish somebody else had pointed that out to us earlier on.
And today is the final day by which the winners of the recent Radio Five Live short drama competition 'The Royal Tapes' were to be contacted. I decided to have a go, simply because it's another avenue to explore. A three minute drama about anything to do with the Royal Family. With only two characters. Played by Alistair McGowan. I wrote five scripts and sent off the best two. No word on that one, so...
So you feel down for a bit. Only natural. Then you start the process of thinking up a load of new ideas. But it's hard. Mind you, it might be a bit easier if I didn't spend all my time remembering obscure 80's cartoon shows...
So sang Neil Innes back in the day. Well, that's all well and good for dolls, Neil, but dolls don't have bills to pay and nervous breakdowns to suffer. Dolls don't have to worry about relationships and the like. Although you can't tell me there wasn't something going on between Lucy and Sad Sack. Please. That was totally on. Although they've most likely been married and divorced by now, with Sad Sack getting custody of Lucy's head. There's an obvious parallel between a recent high profile couple going through a divorce, one of which has a removable body part, but...
Anyway. Rejection. Part of being a writer and it always will be. I know that's a cliche, but as someone else once said, something's only a cliche because it happens a lot. This week has been particularly tough.
On Monday we were told that our three radio series proposals under consideration (two music documentaries and a sketch show) will now not become fully formed programmes. As always with these things, no real reason was given. It just is.
We're also still trying to flog a couple of radio sitcom scripts we wrote some time back. We've shown them both to various people, who've blown hot and cold at various stages, and we've persevered because we think they're strong ideas, and no one has really done them yet. This week, we showed them to an experienced in-house radio producer, and his verdict was pretty devastating. Trouble is, he's right. Totally. They just don't work. It kinds of makes you wish somebody else had pointed that out to us earlier on.
And today is the final day by which the winners of the recent Radio Five Live short drama competition 'The Royal Tapes' were to be contacted. I decided to have a go, simply because it's another avenue to explore. A three minute drama about anything to do with the Royal Family. With only two characters. Played by Alistair McGowan. I wrote five scripts and sent off the best two. No word on that one, so...
So you feel down for a bit. Only natural. Then you start the process of thinking up a load of new ideas. But it's hard. Mind you, it might be a bit easier if I didn't spend all my time remembering obscure 80's cartoon shows...
Thursday 5 July 2007
So many biscuits...
Today, finally, after months of waiting we managed to get Bill Bailey into a studio to record the links for our Radio 2 documentary about tribute bands. Blimey, it's taken a while...
The recording went well. The studio happened to be about a ten minute walk from my flat, which considering the tube derailment earlier in the day meant that we didn't have to brave a confused transport system. Phew. The studio, the Soundhouse, was a fab little place, all tucked away round the back of the Majestic wine warehouse. They didn't have any wine, but they had some fantastic biscuits. And then some more biscuits. And a few more biscuits on top of those. In fact there were biscuits everywhere and I'm surprised anything coherent ever gets recorded for people constantly chomping on a biscuit.
The engineer, Paul, was a very friendly soul so that's obviously gonna make life so much easier. He said he liked the script and had in fact recently seen a tribute band, the Counterfeit Beatles, who played at the studio's 2oth birthday party. He was chuckling along as Bill read our words, which was nice of him.
We didn't get the chance to chat much with Bill, sadly. He stormed through the links, pausing only for a cup of tea and a sandwich, and was funny, and silly, and, well, Bill Bailey really. He was briefly distracted by a couple of rogue sentences that he highlighted for their abstract absurdity - the line 'made up entirely from dwarves' in the hands of Bill Bailey is a powerful weapon, capable of rendering nearby listeners virtually helpless. Take note the UN. Then someone asked him to move his car because it was blocking Tom Conti's Rolls Royce, who was next door recording a radio drama. After that, everything was checked, then it was a quick handshake and Bill was off. I wonder if we'll see him again?
We're back in a fortnight to do the edit but at this stage Bill's happy, the producer's happy, the engineer's happy and we're happy. So we're all happy.
Oh, and I spotted Stephen Greif in the corridor AKA the original Space Commander Travis from off of 'Blakes 7'. He was holding a cup of tea and waiting for us to get past. And he had a bit of a weary expression on his face as he waited. But I resisted the urge to say, 'Alright pal, you'd best get back to Servalan'. For those of you who don't know the series, Travis finally gave up his obsessive pursuit of Blake and the rest of the Liberator crew, relocated to Scotland and had a series of hit records including 'Writing To Reach You', 'Driftwood' and 'Why Does It Always Rain On Me?'
The recording went well. The studio happened to be about a ten minute walk from my flat, which considering the tube derailment earlier in the day meant that we didn't have to brave a confused transport system. Phew. The studio, the Soundhouse, was a fab little place, all tucked away round the back of the Majestic wine warehouse. They didn't have any wine, but they had some fantastic biscuits. And then some more biscuits. And a few more biscuits on top of those. In fact there were biscuits everywhere and I'm surprised anything coherent ever gets recorded for people constantly chomping on a biscuit.
The engineer, Paul, was a very friendly soul so that's obviously gonna make life so much easier. He said he liked the script and had in fact recently seen a tribute band, the Counterfeit Beatles, who played at the studio's 2oth birthday party. He was chuckling along as Bill read our words, which was nice of him.
We didn't get the chance to chat much with Bill, sadly. He stormed through the links, pausing only for a cup of tea and a sandwich, and was funny, and silly, and, well, Bill Bailey really. He was briefly distracted by a couple of rogue sentences that he highlighted for their abstract absurdity - the line 'made up entirely from dwarves' in the hands of Bill Bailey is a powerful weapon, capable of rendering nearby listeners virtually helpless. Take note the UN. Then someone asked him to move his car because it was blocking Tom Conti's Rolls Royce, who was next door recording a radio drama. After that, everything was checked, then it was a quick handshake and Bill was off. I wonder if we'll see him again?
We're back in a fortnight to do the edit but at this stage Bill's happy, the producer's happy, the engineer's happy and we're happy. So we're all happy.
Oh, and I spotted Stephen Greif in the corridor AKA the original Space Commander Travis from off of 'Blakes 7'. He was holding a cup of tea and waiting for us to get past. And he had a bit of a weary expression on his face as he waited. But I resisted the urge to say, 'Alright pal, you'd best get back to Servalan'. For those of you who don't know the series, Travis finally gave up his obsessive pursuit of Blake and the rest of the Liberator crew, relocated to Scotland and had a series of hit records including 'Writing To Reach You', 'Driftwood' and 'Why Does It Always Rain On Me?'
Hello there!
Well. A blog. Everyone else has got one, so I thought I'd get one too. Hang on though, that's how shell suits became popular. Oh well, no going back now.
I'm a professional writer, mainly specialising in comedy, and I've written for loads of telly and radio programmes over the last few years and you may well have seen some of them with your eyes or heard some of them with your ears (or if you're really clever, the other way around).
Today I'm meeting full-time musician and comedian, and part-time Klingon, Bill Bailey, who's very kindly agreed to read out the links with his mouth for our Radio 2 music documentary. I say 'our' because it's the work of myself and my writing partner. Who's on his way now. And he gets very cross if his coffee isn't ready on time. Ooh, I can hear him coming up the stairs now!
RJW
I'm a professional writer, mainly specialising in comedy, and I've written for loads of telly and radio programmes over the last few years and you may well have seen some of them with your eyes or heard some of them with your ears (or if you're really clever, the other way around).
Today I'm meeting full-time musician and comedian, and part-time Klingon, Bill Bailey, who's very kindly agreed to read out the links with his mouth for our Radio 2 music documentary. I say 'our' because it's the work of myself and my writing partner. Who's on his way now. And he gets very cross if his coffee isn't ready on time. Ooh, I can hear him coming up the stairs now!
RJW
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