Television
When Did You Last See Your Father?
By PETER FORSTER
THE cordial critical re- ception for Granada's Head On collision with Mr. Randolph Churchill puzzles me. Take the production first: the scene was a small private cinema, in the middle of which sat Mr. Churchill and Mr. Henry Fairlie, separated by an ashtray. When Mr. Fairlie was photographed, the camera seemed to have been placed a few inches in front of his knees, giving him a downwards-looming effect that was once associated with Boris Karloff's film appearances, and over his right shoulder glowed the distrac- tion of a white circle, presumably a porthole light in the wall behind. Mr. Churchill was shot from a more reasonable level, but the back- ground to his prognostications was usually the ominous word EXIT. In short, Mi. Norman Dunkle's direction seemed to me like home movie-making at its most amateurish, while the photography and make-up of the various people shown talking about Mr. Churchill or. the screen- within-the-screen made them look like nothing so much as the last few suspects in a police identifi- cation parade. I never saw such a shifty bunch.
All too typical of their testimony was Lord Stanley of Alderley, Mr. Churchill's contem- porary at Eton, opining that Mr. Churchill's most notable characteristic was his utter beastliness, in a coy, how-this-will-make-the-class-laugh way which must have puzzled most of the viewing millions. But Lord Stanley gave scarcely any example or indication of how Mr. Churchill was beastly. Indeed, many of the witnesses fell into this basic error of describing the man's charac- teristics rather than giving examples—we heard what a brilliant raconteur and mimic he is, but examples came there none. Similarly, the famous rudeness was listed but left undocumented, so that Mr. Churchill, offering his comments in the studio, quickly realised that these old friends and friendly enemies were trying to run him through with rubber lances, which he turned aside or chucked back with massive, almost contemp- tuous ease.
So much might have been said, so much might have been asked about the glory and the plight of being only son of the greatest man in the land. Only once, with the evidence of his local pub landlady who had had to undergo ordeal by Mr. Churchill in search of cigarettes, did we hover on the verge of a really discomfiting confrontation (and a programme of this kind must either in- volve such a thing or amount to a patchwork tribute); but Mr. Fairlie did not push the issues, and Mr. Churchill was safe, if not exactly home. Mr. Nigel Nicolson and the splendidly wry Lord Birkenhead made the most effective mock- picadors; and must now face the danger that they will probably be asked to go on What's My Line?
The conception of Head On is surely muddled. Was a composite portrait intended? If so, only a botched job emerged. Alan Brien named Mr Churchill's charm as his most formidable characteristic—from the one occasion on which I met Mr. Churchill, I would agree, though several to whom I have said this violently dis- pute the idea. (And in passing, as demonstration that the spoken is not necessarily more vivid than the written word, one might note that the whole hour's talking did not make a portrait one-tenth as vivid as the recent Observer Profile which was, as it happens, written by Mr. Brien.) But Head On did little to enlighten strangers (i.e., most viewers) as to the reason for such strong contradictory reactions. The fact that this was television was hardly emphasised by the insertion of a feW photos and brief film clips, and I suspect the whole talking-shop would have been better compressed into half an hour, even if this meant the utter beastliness of cutting out Lord Stanley.
Contrariwise, I found the whole elaborate gimmick much less illuminating of character than the old-fashioned format of a well-conducted interview, demonstrated by Granada's Appoint- ment with J. B. Priestley. Harsh things have been said about Mr. Muggeridge's performances on television (sometimes, I do believe, by me) but, on his day, that opinionated gadfly manner is admirably calculated to draw out his subject, and Mr. Priestley has never seemed more at ease or more impressive on the screen.
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