Making the Grade

Jonathan Cecil

IT SEEMED LIKE A GOOD IDEA AT THE TIME by Michael Grade Macmillan, £20, pp. 432 In 1973, when young Michael Grade became head of Light Entertainment at London Weekend Television, I was an early employee. The company was somewhat in the doldrums, presenting, Grade writes, 'dreary sitcoms whose names I blush to recall'. I was starring in one and will spare his blushes by leaving it unnamed. It was jolly enough but patently outmoded and somewhat doom-laden as its popular previous star had recently died of over- indulgence.

I don't think it was a particularly easy time for either of us, but Michael always seemed cheerful, humorous and out-going, as he did in our subsequent brief meetings when he had become one of the most influ- ential figures in broadcasting. Such likeable qualities permeate his autobiography which contains many hilarious anecdotes. It is also serious and thought-provoking.

The story of the three Grade brothers — refugees from the Tsar's 1911 pogroms — who created the most powerful show- business organisation of its time is well known. Michael, son of Leslie, had an exhilarating, privileged but difficult child- hood. He never knew his mother, who left shortly after his birth in 1943. His relation- ship with his shy, gentle father was one of mutual love but emotionally inhibited. Till now, Michael tells us, he has been bad at relationships. All the Grades were domi- nated by his grandmother, Olga, warm- hearted but imperious and touchy, subject of some quaint stories. Although resolutely orthodox she thought young Michael looked undernourished compared with non-Jewish boys and fed him bacon, which she never touched herself.

His schooldays at Stowe were unhappy: here he encountered anti-Semitism. His wise father took him away; nevertheless, Michael explains with typical dryness, 'Stowe has since claimed me as an Old Boy, an accolade that for me has a lack of fasci- nation all its own.'

On leaving school he became first a sports reporter on the Daily Mirror and then apprentice to a variety agent, Billy Marsh. The first job instigated his flair for publicity, the second his ability to spot stars. His discovery of the charming Larry Grayson almost makes up for his latter-day discovery of Chris Evans. Both Fleet Street and the world of vaudeville are vividly recaptured.

He moved on to television and LWT, eventually becoming Director of Pro- grammes. In charge of Current Affairs was his future enemy John Birt. Then they were unlikely friends, Birt the cold schemer, Grade the intuitive risk-taker.

Impoverished after the collapse of his first marriage, Michael went to Hollywood, leaving LWT healthier than when he joined it. It boasted The South Bank Show, The Professionals and Match of the Day — snatched by Grade from the BBC.

The LA job — President of Embassy Television commissioning and selling com- edy shows — proved unsatisfying. English toughness, he discovered, was no match for the American kind. He missed news pro- grammes, being confined to comedy. Although there are amusing Californian stories about shrinks and clairvoyants, Grade the autobiographer like Grade the man seems less at ease than in previous chapters. He did well in America but aston- ishingly returned to England as Controller of BBC 1.

He improved the BBC's scheduling, got embroiled in current affairs controversies and found himself up against an arrogant, amateurish board of directors, The board- room battles, appointments and expulsions read like Julius Caesar or Richard III. Michael suggests appointing John Birt — Caesar, Cassius or Richard? — who pro- ceeds to usurp Michael's power, making his position impossible. The covert departure of Grade to become Head of Channel Four makes splendid cloak-and-dagger drama. His period at the fourth channel was his most controversial. Achievements included Film on Four, which almost single-handedly kept the British film industry going, and the final interview with Dennis Potter by Melvyn Bragg. On the debit side some late- night programmes did degenerate into amateurish smut. Grade has now left tele- vision to join First Leisure, set up by his late uncle Bernard.

Emerging from this often gruesomely enthralling saga are two Michael Grades. Grade I is a flamboyant entrepreneur with red braces and a cigar whose television motto is 'Entertainment, Entertainment, Entertainment'. He dislikes intellectual snobbishness and his variety training makes him a wizard at scheduling and, usually, gauging public taste. Grade II is far more serious and sensitive. He has a slightly paranoid obsession that he is regarded as 'vaudevillian' by ex-university men. He cares about public service broadcasting and its responsibility. It was Grade II who left Hollywood.

He was wounded by Paul Johnson's con- stant attacks on him as 'Pornographer in Chief' and now shrewdly allows Johnson to condemn himself by selected intemperate quotations. Johnson's television position was untenable: week after week in The Spectator he argued against the licence fee and for multi-channel television, then furi- ously execrated vulgarisation.

I do not agree with everything Grades I and II say but feel that, unlike Johnson, they would make amiable debating oppo- nents. I agreed with the axing of Dr Who and Wogan — both had grown stale. But I much regretted the loss of the uniquely gifted interviewer Mavis Nicholson. Grade I was in danger of always believing that change is beautiful.

The deliberately tasteless programme, The Wond, Grade admits, often made him cringe but he defends it because it was aimed at adolescents. Here I think he is wrong. Television will never be 'sexy' for adolescents. Trying to please them through a grown-up medium is both a futile cause and contrary to Grade II's pursuit of excel- lence.

As a churchgoer I take blasphemy seri- ously, as indeed does Grade. I do not object to earnest works like Scorsese's Last Temptation of Christ but am offended by the Life of Brian mockery of the crucifixion. Surely, for humanists also, martyrdom by hideous torture is no laughing matter. A 'nothing sacred' attitude leads to sterile nihilism.

The book finally warns against two aspects of modem television: the ascendan- cy of technology over programme content and the power attainable by one man — Birtism.

Michael Grade speaks of his third mar- riage's peace and contentment: 'the best idea I ever had.' Given its present mediocre state, was leaving television his second best idea?