CONTEMPORARY ARTS MR. VAL PARNELL has called his gleaming cohorts
together from the farthest reaches of show business to set up a programme contracting outfit for commercial TV. should we feel sorry for the BBC? How can the civil servants be expected to compete against the combined business and artistic talent which Mr. Parnell and his associates are ready and able to throw on to the midget screen?
The simple truth is that the BBC cannot compete, neither for finance nor for show- manship.. Nor should it try; the introduc- tion of commercial television has the effect of completely changing the BBC's function. It should accept that change—and rejoice. When commercial TV strains off from the BBC its most popular talent—when the Parnell Parnassus rules the hearts and the screens of the largest mass of viewers, what will the BBC have lost? Its broadest comedians, its best (and anyhow rarely achieved) variety bills, its most popular and pointless plays, its dreariest family serials. It will be left with its competent drama department, its serious music section, certain classical films to draw on, docu- mentary and experimental features, an excellent news service, children's theatre, talks and discussions, all magazine pro- grammes of better quality than Quite Contrary, and (unfortunately) its tedious parlour games. And a large number of empty programme spaces. Without doubt the peak-hour public, the mass viewership, will switch over to the commercial channel, however brightly the BBC programme planndrs try to fill those empty dates. But in spite of the prevalent snobbism ('We couldn't bear a television set looking at us all day long ') it is certain that in a very few years there will be as many viewers as there are radio listeners. When it first appeared, the crystal set roused this Same antagonism; but radio made good. TV, and soon colour TV, will make just as good. When it does it is essential that the public be able to shop for entertainment at the level it wants and understands it. For my part, this will exclude soap opera, parlour games, Muffin the Mule, crooning trios and Mr. Rylands's Shakespearean pro- ductions--whichever channel offers them. At a premium for me will be dramatic experiments, serious unscripted and contro- versial discussion (not the tepid semi- scripted substitute the BBC too often produces), humour, satire and burlesque, classical plays and films, good music; and if I get a little of all that every week I shall consider the few shillings the BBC television costs me each week well spent. By the same reckoning, if the commercial channel_gives 'me the star talent I enjoy I shall be more than satisfied to have my wife buy the products which make that entertainment possible. But by and large I expect to watch the BBC channel rather more than the commer- cial, for the fact that the broadest appealing programmes have been drawn away into the opposition channel, is the BBC's opportu- nity to thoroughly promote those entertain- ment and cultural amenities which cater for that minority which is far too important to be abandoned entirely to the crumbs it can gather either from the commercial programmes of the future, or the compro- mised BBC programmes of the present.
All sections of the public, long-haired, short-haired mad, executive type, Pompadour style and Brando-Roman—highbrows middle, low and those who have no brows whatsoever yet can still watch a television screen—all have to be catered for. If the BBC decides once and for all where its particular public is, and then sets out to competently serve it, there will be no neces- sity for us to feel sorry for the inmates of Lime Grove—and no competition for them to fear from the giant Parnellites.
Footnote: All this on account of the fact that I haven't seen a single programme the entire week worth writing about. Especially Mr. Rylands's production of Troilus and Cressida, which suffered from boom-shadow, masking, bad grouping, poor acting, in- appropriate staging, amateurish use of the camera, confusing sets, and boring direction.
WOLF MANKOWITZ