Television
Delayed reaction
Wendy Cope
Where was I on the day Nelson Mandela was released?' Jonathan Dimb- leby, , who told viewers that they might one day ask themselves that question, will certainly remember where he was. In the hot seat, presenting On the Record (BBC 1, 1.05 p.m., Sunday), while the world waited for the big moment. And I'll remember where I was: sitting in front of the television set, wishing that history would hurry up and be made, so I could get on with something else.
The timing of the release was bad luck on the people involved in On the Record. If Mandela had come out punctually at one o'clock, they could have shown it live, followed it with some scenes of rejoicing in Soweto, and used the rest of their allotted hour for an uninterrupted studio discus- sion. The delay obliged them to move jumpily hither and thither, with the com- mentator outside the prison becoming in- creasingly desperate. Could it be, he speculated at one point, that Mr Mandela was still busy packing?
Back in the studio Jonathan Dimbleby got the talking heads talking, only to silence them in the middle of every other sentence. 'Sorry to have to stop you there but we're going back to Soweto. No, sorry, we're not going back to Soweto. Do please go on.' Ten or 15 minutes of this kind of thing helps to build some dramatic tension. A whole hour of it came over as a bit of a shambles.
At two p.m., when On the Record should have given way to EastEnders, they were still hanging on. Then, just at the crucial moment, the South African cover- age was switched to BBC 2. By the time I caught up with it, the cavalcade of cars had reached the prison gate. The BBC's repor- ter on the spot sounded confused. Perhaps
they had put him somewhere where he couldn't see properly. He was temporarily relieved of his duties while we listened to the man from South African television instead. Joyful scenes outside the prison. Cut to Soweto, where a huge crowd was dancing in the street. 'They're literally dancing in the street,' said a commentator helpfully.
When I switched off, Jonathan and his talking heads were still at it, sounding a bit weary by now. Or perhaps I was projecting my own weariness on to them. The prog- ramme they had displaced was due to run until three p.m. and I'm afraid they may have had to struggle on till then, poor things.
That stretch of live coverage messed up my video-watching schedule. There's a bit of a log-jam at present because I am half-heartedly following too many series and serials. Last week this column assured you that A Sense of Guilt (BBC 1, 9.30 p.m., Tuesday) has quite a hold over the viewing public. Be that as it may, I haven't yet got round to watching the most recent episode.
Wednesday's and Friday's editions of Coronation Street (ITV, 7.30 p.m.) re- mained on the shelf until Sunday evening when, taken together, they seemed rather long. Ken Barlow's adultery — the story- line that has done most to keep me hooked — has dropped out of sight for the last week or two. The new workers' co- operative, undercutting Mike Baldwin in the manufacture of travel bags, meets with my approval but interests me less. All the same, I don't think I'm ready to give up my three half-hours a week. Even on one of the duller days, there's a certain fascina- tion in seeing the world of Coronation Street, which remained the same for so long, catch up with the 1990s. And, any- way, I want to find out if Deirdre gets him back.
'What makes you think we are on
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