Yankee Doodle Dandy
I WAS surprised to see last week's letter from the Independent Television Authority urging us to remember what Government spokesmen promised during the TV Bill debates—a corpse, I would have thought, that the Authority is unwise to exhume.
Consider the promise that those spokesmen freely and frequently made: that the pro- grammes would not be Americanised! Dollars, we were assured, would be too scarce; nor would the great British public tolerate Ameri- can-style TV; and in any case, the Authority would act as watchdog. Cerberus must have been asleep: the descent into the inferno has been accomplished, particularly in the Chil- dren's Hour programmes. On Wednesday, they began with an American film; and on Thurs- day; and on Friday; and on Monday. At the weekend, for a change, they ended with Ameri- can films. Nearly half Children's Hour time is American. If this is not Americanisation, what, in the name of Dr. Charlie Hill, is?
Still, my worst disappointment was reserved for Thursday evening, on the BBC. I am a remora for undersea films, and I switched eagerly to watch Hans and Lotte Hass explore the Silent World. It turned out to be very far from silent; they accord it a tiresome com- mentary; and they appear to spend even more of their time photographing each other than do Armand and Michaela Denis, which is saying something. The wretched fish hardly get a look in.
But to return to Wednesday—the opening day of my viewing stint: 7.30: an American-style give-away pro- gramme with an American-accented compere, boasting that 'this is the programme which has given away more money than any other give- away programme.'
8: a selection from the (American) films of John Ford, put together so carelessly that it included a film that was not John Ford's at all; no matter, it was American.
8.30: a film about Broadway.
9 : a trailer for an American film to be shown the next evening.
10: an American film.
Naturally, this left little time for home- baked stuff. To judgejiy what little there was, this was just as wells I did not care to watch Marius Goring as the Scarlet Pimpernel : when one has admired a thoroughbred in the show ring it is not pleasant to watch him pulling a donkey-cart on the sands. But I just managed to sit through the second give-away programme of the evening, called They're Oft; in preter- natural silliness it almost excels the other give- away programmes. Finally there was variety from Clacton. This is what is known as 'a balanced evening's viewing.'
Even the BBC's Press Conference, usually to be relied on, was a disappointment. A week when distinguished delegates from the ends of the earth were in London was hardly the time to hold a pedestrian discussion on agricultural economics. All told, in fact, it was pretty wretched viewing—though, on first acquain- tance, I was impressed with the possibilities of AR's This Week. At least it attempts to break away from the standard, often dull BBC pat- tern. But if This Week is to continue to poke quiet fun at interviewers and commentators, which I hope it will, it should take better care to avoid containing the corniest of interviews itself—and I am not thinking of the visit to Colin Wilson, though, believe me, that was
embarrassing enough. BRIAN INGLIS
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