Television
Freaks and subversives
Alexander Chancellor
Ihave seen only the first and the last in Channel 4's My Britain series. The first had an American pop music impresario called Miles Copeland deploring the lack of red-blooded capitalism in Britain. The last, which was broadcast on Sunday, had the Spectator's Washington correspondent Christopher Hitchens deploring the col- onisation of Britain by the United States. Both made Britain seem a pretty depress- ing place, a sort of purgatory with no salvation in sight.
Mr Hitchens accused the British ruling class of betraying their country by permit- ting the Americans to set up nuclear bases here without democratic consultation. He hated the British Empire on which 'the blood never dried', but dislikes no less what he sees as Britain's present mindless subservience to the Americans.
To illustrate the dangers of America's nuclear presence he went to Mildenhall in Suffolk, a pretty little town which, so he told us, had all but become 'a plutonium cemetery in 1956. This was when an aircraft crashed into a nuclear weapons shed at the nearby American base of Lakenheath, starting a fire with potentially disastrous consequences. The nuclear acci- dent was hushed up at the time and was only discovered in 1980 when journalists read about it in American government papers.
On a freezing February day Mr Hitchens accompanied a coach-load of protestors to the American base of Molesworth in Cam- bridgeshire from which, he recalled, 'an insufferable British minister' had earlier booted demonstrators out 'to please the Americans'. He questioned a nice grey- haired woman on the bus about what effect she expected the protest to have. 'Every little helps,' she said modestly. 'It must make some difference. It would set an example, anyway.'
This good woman was among the people Mr Hitchens identified as real British patriots — the 'freaks' and 'subversives' who 'have more concern for this country than their betters have ever displayed'. As an example of 'their betters', he sensibly selected Mr Jeffrey Archer, the deputy chairman of the Conservative Party. Mr Archer was filmed addressing a lot of schoolboys. 'When I was four, I wanted to be a politician,' he said. Should we believe that? Later Mr Hitchens interviewed him. 'I know it's unfashionable, Christopher,' he said — about what, exactly, I can't remember. Probably it was about patriot- ism. Mr Archer said that British govern- ments ought to regard themselves as the board of 'Great Britain Ltd' and the people of Britain as its shareholders. 'As a social- ist,' concluded Mr Hitchens, standing among the freezing demonstrators at Molesworth, 'I certainly think that patriot- ism is not enough, but I'm beginning to think that it might be a start.'
After this, it was deeply lowering to watch BBC2's film about the French (Hori- zon, Monday), designed to show how infinitely superior they are to us. We knew already that they lived better, had nicer clothes, crustier bread, and so on. What I, at least, did not know — and I suppose we have to believe Horizon —is that they are also the tops in all things technological. They have invested billions of government money in daring, grandiose projects, all of which appear to have paid off. They have the best telephone system, the best high- speed trains, the best space rockets, the best damned everything. There is even one of their clever little automatic lavatories in Blythe Road, Hammersmith, just round the corner from where I live. The fine, spacious and smelly old public lavatory in Blythe Road has been declared redundant and pulled down to make way for some dreary new shops and flats.
Also on Monday began a new chat show hosted by Joan Rivers, the loud-mouthed American comedienne (Joan Rivers: Can We Talk? BBC2). Miss Rivers can be very funny when she is being vulgar and sadis- tic. But she was overawed by the honour of being on the BBC and upstaged by her guests — in particular, by Barry Humph- ries. Mr Humphries can outstrip anybody in vulgarity if he wants to, and Miss Rivers was no match for him. She seemed also rather perplexed by the laid-back Mr Peter Cook, who doesn't have to try because everybody knows that he can be funnier than anybody else if he wants to be.
The best of her guests — the one who was both funny and with whom she felt most relaxed — was the American pup- peteer, Jim Henson, inventor of the Mup- pets, who appeared with Kermit the Frog. But the series will only work if Miss Rivers has less talented guests — boring celebri- ties whom she can be beastly to. She must gain enough confidence to go for the kill. Hancock's Half Hour (BBC1, Sundays) is still a delight 20 years on. In last Sunday's episode Hancock was the fore- man of a jury who, emulating Henry Fonda in Twelve Angry Men, swung a majority of eleven to his side and then back again. I liked his patronising comment on the defence counsel's summing-up — 'That was an excellent speech, my good man, you'll go far. You've got a very engaging personality.' So has Hancock.
Previous page
