Television
Not amused
Wendy Cope
When I am discussing children's books, I often find myself saying that there is no upper age limit for anything that's really good. If it's true of books, one would expect it to be true of television program- mes too, and that is why I haven't entirely given up on alternative comedy. Can it be that first-rate, genuinely funny shows fail to entertain me simply because I'm over 40?
So many newspaper previewers have raved about Ben Elton — The Man from Auntie (BBC 1, 9.30 p.m., Thursday) that I decided to give it a try, even though it's hard for me to imagine Ben Elton being the slightest bit amusing. Several weeks running I taped the programme and even- tually — choosing a time when I felt reasonably genial and open-minded — got round to watching one. Here's Ben in his glittery suit and paisley tie. The level of applause indicates that the audience adores him, and there must be some good reason. Relax the facial muscles, listen to his jokes, and see what happens.
The comedian's first topic is sewage. `The Government no longer needs to flush sewage directly into the North Sea', he quips, `because the poll tax enables them to crap directly on all of our heads.' Oh, well done. It takes real courage to go on television and say you're against pollution and the poll tax. To hear these things attacked with such sophistication and wit has a marked effect on my facial muscles — it immobilises them.
There's more hard-hitting stuff to come. Another of Ben's targets is discos that will only admit smartly dressed customers. Such an establishment, he reminds us and I bet you've never thought of this might welcome Hitler in his shiny boots and exclude Jesus on account of his san- dals. The message is loud and clear: a society that would deny Jesus himself the pleasures of disco-dancing must indeed be an uncaring one.
These days Elton, with his complete portfolio of matching fashionable opinions, has acquired so much moral authority that he doesn't always feel the need to try and be funny. Part of his act consists of humourless homilies, delivered to the con- verted with passion and energy. But he did take part in one sketch — about town- planning in the 1960s — that actually made me laugh.
Sunday night's edition of The Oprah Winfrey Show (Channel 4, 11 p.m.) was about what men want from women. TV Times promised us an all-male studio audience but this didn't materialise. The programme did include film of men talking to camera about themselves — we were encouraged to stay tuned and learn their secrets. All the men said they liked to roll over and go to sleep after making love. They said they fantasised about women other than their wives and girlfriends. Most of them admitted to finding it difficult to talk about their feelings. Secrets? A nun might have learned something she didn't already know.
None the less the programme had enough spark to keep me watching until the end. The guest expert, psychologist Barbara de Angelis, had a nice way of putting things. What you have to under- stand about men, she explained, is that they've been brought up since they were little to be the exact opposite of what women want them to be. Hardly anyone in the studio audience had anything interest- ing to say — it was the same last time I saw the show. But somehow — and I guess that it has a lot to do with Oprah Win- frey's personality — the formula seems to work.
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