Television
Unseen splendours
Alexander Chancellor
This is a moment of deep embarrass- ment for this column (I have never under- stood why columnists like to describe themselves as 'this column' with the de- tachment of Mrs Thatcher referring to her government, but I do so nonetheless). It is a moment of deep embarrassment because a series spanning 11 consecutive evenings and described by all and sundry as 'the television event of the decade' — I refer, of course, to the German family saga Heimat — has come to an end, and this column hasn't watched a single minute of it. I say this, believe me, without pride, because if the series was anything like as good as most people say it was, I would certainly have much enjoyed it; and also because a television commentator who fails to watch the television event of the decade, even if it lasts as long as Wagner's Ring, is clearly failing in his duty.
The reason for failure in this column's case is a very dreary one. It is that neither of the television sets in my house are at present capable of receiving BBC2. The bigger of the two sets — a monster purchased a couple of years ago at a bargain price from Fakir Video in the Shepherd's Bush Road — has become increasingly fuzzy of late on all channels. But even the more efficient smaller one, supplied by Granada Television Rentals, cannot now cope with BBC2. All it offers is an occasionally exploding snowstorm in colours synchronised by Eddie Shah.
There have, however, been other amus- ing things to watch on television. One was a graphic on the BBC's Nine O'Clock News explaining, in the context of the death of the Duchess of Windsor, that King Edward VIII was the son of King Edward VII — a piece of disinformation confirmed in her commentary by Miss Julia Somerville. Another — though I think that was two Sundays ago — was the spectacle on Weekend World (LWT) of Brian Walden sitting with his mouth firmly shut while his
voice carried on spouting away in those inimitable Midlands tones.
But much the most interesting, which alas I did not see, was reported by Ian Wooldridge in last Tuesday's Daily Mail. This was BBC television's coverage of the world snooker championship in Sheffield. The championship is sponsored by Embas- sy cigarettes, but in deference to the anti- smoking lobby, the BBC has apparentlY gone to extraordinary lengths to prevent the sponsors getting any sort of look in. To quote Mr Wooldridge: 'Screens were full of headless torsos, disembodied legs, and unidentifiable buttocks. Cameras pan- ned at the speed of the faint-hearted averting their eyes from a motorway Ole" up.' This was to avoid shots of Hurricane Higgins smoking cigarettes and — even more absurdly — shots of the banners advertising Embassy, even though these were naturally placed in the most strateg!e positions. It is not merely ridiculous — it Is downright dishonest — to allow a tobacco company to sponsor a sport and then try to pretend that the sponsor doesn't exist. Panorama (BBC1) on Monday was ab- out the American space shuttle disaster. It was a frightening tale of warnings ignored in the interests of national prestige. Take!) with the nuclear plant disaster in Russia this week, one begins to lose confidence in the common sense of the Great Powers. Finally, I would like to point out that Spitting Image continues to improve. Last Sunday's edition contained one or two really good bad taste jokes. I am thinking in particular of the dialogue between the two breasts of Samantha Fox about whether they should continue in show business as a team or go their separate ways. It was made funnier by the fact that both breasts had earnest male voices.
I was also amused (though perhaps I shouldn't have been) by the sketch of Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher — he, in gratitude for support over the bombing of Libya, offering to take ner away with him on holiday, but suggesting at the last moment that she go ahead alone and handing her a bag to carry with her on the aeroplane.
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