That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore

London Fields # 89
First published Inpress (Issue # 1160), Melbourne on 9 February 2011, and in Drum Media (Issue # 1046), Sydney on 8 February 2011
NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here

“We are live; please do not swear”. The axing of Big Brother may have seen this catchphrase pass into the annals of TV history, but it also seems as if taboos are shifting also. On three occasions recently BBC presenters have inadvertently dropped the c-bomb whilst taking about the current government. Meanwhile Channel 4 advertised their scrapping of the 10” broadcast delay for the 21^st British Comedy Awards, ensuing all the naughty words would be unable to be expurgated. The ceremony this year was fairly tame; Miranda Hart was the night’s big winner; and the most significant comedy story began when members of Top Gear made comments about the sexism row concerning Sky Sports presenters backstage.

In the following weeks Top Gear ended up in the news again after some questionable racial stereotype jibes aimed at Mexicans and their ambassador to the UK featured in a recent edition. Now Ambassador Eduardo Medina-Mora Icaza didn’t take too kindly to this; far from being indolent, he had put his life in peril leading a major campaign against drug gangs prior to his London posting. Last Saturday Jeremy Clarkson used his column in The Sun to apologise, claiming that offence is necessary in humour; the column ended with another ethnic joke about Mexico. So what are the taboos in comedy nowadays - terrorism, racism, political incorrectness, disability? Over the weekend, Steve Coogan, clearly incensed by the situation, wrote in The Guardian that “…you can get away with saying unsayable things if it's done with some sense of culpability”, believing that that comedy should have a “moral standpoint“ targeting “hypocrisy, human frailty, narrow-mindedness“.

A couple of weeks ago I was in the audience for the filming of four episodes of the second series of Stewart Lee’s Comedy Vehicle. By far the most edgy section was an appreciation of the IRA - “gentlemen bombers” with achievable aims, whose street art was a natural precursor to Banksy. Lee’s skilled in irony, but sailing so close to the wind makes misinterpretation ever more likely. His 2009 Edinburgh show If You Prefer A Milder Comedian Please Ask For One had a lengthy section on Top Gear, wishing all sorts of terrible calamities to befall their presenters, and their families. His get-out phrase there was the same one they use on Top Gear, that it’s “just a joke“. It may seem like a long time ago, but the repercussions of the phone messages Russell Brand and Jonathon Ross left on Andrew Sach’s answering machine are still being felt. Sachsgate was the 5th most complained about incident that broadcasting watchdog Ofcom have received in the last decade (with Lee‘s own Jerry Springer The Opera at #3), and the BBC has only just aired an episode of Never Mind The Buzzcocks filmed two years earlier as Brand had been a panellist in it. What you can do on stage, or on DVD ,is very different to what you can do as a state broadcaster, so it’ll be interesting to see if the BBC, still smarting from Sachsgate, allow all of Lee’s material to go to air.

Over on Channel 4, Frankie Boyle's Tramadol Nights also made headlines. After the initial fuss about a joke involving disability and incest had subsided, his use of the racist P-bomb and n-bomb in the fourth episode raised shackles again. In context the joke was a variation of “the ethnicities of the fatalities were, in order of importance…”, but here using evocative terminology for those at the bottom. Boyle displays a mean intelligence. Mean is a particularly apposite description; his comedy is a cross between the vitriolic rantings of a misanthrope and a carefully planned assault pushing the boundaries of what is acceptable. While sometimes very funny, it’s also spiteful and vindictive with a nastiness that can leave a distinctly unpleasant taste.

Speaking in Germany last Saturday, British Prime Minister David Cameron echoed the words spoken by German Chancellor Angela Merkel last October when he said that multiculturalism was an experiment that had failed. On the same day in Luton, the EDL mounted a massive demonstration against Islam. Meanwhile last Thursday, the BBC decided not to film a certain section of an upcoming Stephen Fry programme in Japan after the backlash over a section on QI where jokes were made about Tsutomu Yamaguchi, the only official survivor of both nuclear blasts in Japan in 1945. Taboos can be challenged, as Chris Morris did last year with Four Lions. But maybe it’s time for some to stop hiding behind the safety curtain of ‘political correctness gone mad’. and be seen for what they are - the classroom stirrer deliberately making provocative statements just to get attention.

© James McGalliard 2011

Inpress: Published on page 58
Drum: Published on page 54

That Was The Year That Was

London Fields # 73
First published Inpress, Melbourne on 23 December 2009
NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here

With news broadcasts full of stories of retail closures and impending strikes, it’s hard to summon up a spirit of seasonal bonhomie, despite the snow falling outside. Britain is still feeling the full brunt of recession, and as unemployment continues to rise, no one can be sure if they’ll still be in work in six months time. Such an atmosphere means that people seem to avoid unnecessary extravagances, so the great British public has probably spent more time staying in to watch television, or socialising in their own homes instead of pubs than at any time I can recall.

2009 was the year of so-called stripped-programmed event TV. Following last year’s experiment with Criminal Justice, where a drama was screened over consecutive weeknights, this year saw Torchwood return in this format with Children Of Earth, while the same approach was applied at ITV for Collision. Of course, you could argue that this is no different to a nightly soap, but the 43 consecutive weeknights of HBO’s In Treatment demanded intellectual and emotional attention in a way Home & Away never could. With a run of late night screenings on BBC Two, this was the year when The Wire hit the UK mainstream, as you didn’t need a premium subscription or a DVD to see what the fuss had all been about. Although its timeslot and heavy schedule were hard to keep pace with, it still made a major impact - from parliamentary discussions over street drug trade to the creators expressing their annoyance that the BBC policy of subtitling every show they broadcast meant audiences didn’t have to listen to the nuances to pick up what was being said.

The effects of last year’s Manuelgate are still being felt. TV comedy, particularly on the BBC, was visibly running scared, and most of the edgier material ended up back in the clubs, or online. This made Stewart Lee’s Comedy Vehicle especially groundbreaking; most of it was simply a man talking to an audience, in a way perhaps not seen since the heyday of Dave Allen, but this wasn’t about simple jokes. Lee’s lengthy polemics were both witty and vicious and were intermingled with some sharp sketches to illustrate the point. On the other extreme was Miranda; this wasn’t to my taste, but I had to admire they way it attempted to revive the sitcom format of the ‘70s, albeit with perhaps more innocence, but additional Brechtian breaking of the fourth wall. It has been recommissioned; Lee has not. The wowsers also attacked The Thick Of It - its jump from satellite to terrestrial broadcast led to complaints about the wonderfully vivid swearing. Psychoville saw half of The League Of Gentlemen return, while the axed Pulling signed off with a one-off special, and then won even more awards; Sharon Horgan reappeared in Free Agents on Channel 4.

The influence of Skins continues to be felt. While the cast change had a better intent than the eventual reality, it could be argued that it led to both Misfits (E4) and Mouth To Mouth (BBC Three). Both these shows focused on a different central character of an interrelated group each week, so rather than a straightforward story arc, the back-story slowly becomes clear once you’ve heard the story from all the viewpoints. While Mouth To Mouth was literally a string of talking heads monologues, Misfits has a darker humour, and like Being Human nicely subverted expectations and genres. But perhaps the biggest shock on TV this year was Merlin which grew into a secret treat after a fairly risible first season, punching well above its weight in both in scripting and complexity.

The sound of 2009 was the motorik beat, perhaps ringing most clearly in the volte-face fortunes of The Horrors. It was a year that artists tried to work independently of the big labels, either by self releasing downloads (like The Boxer Rebellion or Spc-Eco) or by raising money for recording from fans through Bandstocks and the like (Patrick Wolf). Musical trends bubbling away included a predicted reemergence of C86, as well and a smattering undercurrent of prog, while electro went to mainstream chart success. The reunions continued - The Specials, Th’ Faith Healers, Spandau Ballet, The Comsat Angels, The Primitives, Blur, Chapterhouse, The Lotus Eaters and Ultravox – some as one-offs, and others as ongoing concerns. The charts themselves however were once again weighed down by the heavy influence of TV talent shows. Susan Boyle became a star, seemingly for having a talent more appealing than her appearance. But this also led to the popularity of truncated names (SuBo) in the tabloids, obviously predicated by LiLo (or was it South Holborn being better known as SoHo?). The cancellation of Big Brother after ten years could have been seen as the death of so-called reality TV, if over 20 million viewers hadn’t tuned in for the final of The X-Factor in December, leading to another battle for the Christmas # 1.

Following on from Echo & The Bunnymen performing Ocean Rain with an orchestra late last year, 2009 saw ABC, Elbow and James among others follow suit, with mixed results. Now it appears the trend may be headed your way too as The Angels are going to do this in Adelaide next April. Speaking of Australian acts, where were they this year? Wolfmother and Pendulum can still fill large venues here, and Jet’s take on Iggy Pop is a perennial radio favourite, but with the exception of The Temper Trap, where were the new Australian artists? I can only hope that they take advantage of the comparatively weak sterling and make a stronger contribution to events such as The Great Escape next year.

In London, it was the year that the Circle Line stopped going around in a circle, and that the River Thames disappeared from the iconic London Underground map. February snow brought the capital to a complete halt and the battle of the free evening papers led to the demise of both thelondonpaper and London Lite, while the Evening Standard was forced to become a freesheet. Political sleaze was back on the agenda, with parliamentary expenses claimed for everything from moat dredging to a floating duck house. In a year where only new shops opening were pawn brokers and even big chains like Borders went bust, there were some people who made it all bearable. In print and across his four TV series, Charlie Brooker once again was a brilliantly funny and scathingly critical voice of outrage and reason. On stage, with two entirely different shows, Daniel Kitson covered big topics, but with a human perspective. This clever, erudite and self-effacing chap weaved larger-than-life yarns which eventually revealed the heart-warming joy in the minutiae of the smallest details of everyday life.


© James McGalliard 2009

Black & White TV

London Fields # 70
First published Inpress, Melbourne on 14 October 2009
NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here

Perhaps the most contentious section of comedian Richard Herring’s Edinburgh show Hitler Moustache began when he chose to use the term “Paki” to make a point. In the UK it is no mere abbreviation, but one of the most taboo terms of racist abuse, a derogatory catch-all for anyone from the Asian subcontinent. I felt myself catch my breath as he uttered it, for it’s dangerous territory to tread. Herring is not a racist by any stretch, but there’s a risk in being quoted out of context, such as the furore that surrounded his “maybe the racists have a point” comment from elsewhere in the show. His expansive conjecture was that an extreme racist’s ‘us and them’ mentality was only one step away from the truly enlightened state of seeing that we’re all the same; so those liberals who see hundreds of separate races on Earth were hundreds of steps further away from the ideal. He went on to illustrate that if people from India and Pakistan saw themselves as a racist sees them (the same), they’d be no conflict between the countries. Now this was never meant to be a serious proposition; the whole point of his show was to challenge perceptions and assumptions.

There’s been another recent TV race row playing out in the papers, where Strictly Come Dancing contestant Anton Du Beke saw the spray-on tan of his partner Laila Rouass and exclaimed “You look like a Paki”. The comment was made off air, and apologies were quickly made and accepted. Yet it’s still shocking that such a remark could be made, even in ‘jest’. ‘Only joshing’ was Carol Thatcher’s excuse earlier this year too, when she used the word “golliwog” to describe tennis player Jo-Wilfried Tsonga. It was also an off-air remark – the difference was that she refused to apologise (at least initially), saying there was nothing wrong with it. Rightfully, the BBC dismissed her, yet there are those who claim that the Beeb has not been even-handed in its handling of such incidents. Both the Celebrity Big Brother affair and Manuelgate are still fresh wounds in TV Land, and the BBC faces an uncertain future, particularly if there is a change in government at the next election.

Hence the BBC Trust’s latest broadcasting guidelines are reactionary, and the new restrictions on bad language feel like a visit from the ghost of Mary Whitehouse. Yet the modern world is one wherein you need to be more aware that certain, seemingly innocent words may carry a hidden weight. Only the other I week a responded to a ribald remark from a fellow employee with “cheeky monkey”, only to then freeze as I remembered that in England that word has nasty associations to anyone of black decent. And a few weeks earlier I was completely dumbfounded when a handyman at my flat started expressed some pretty hateful opinions, and used some racist expressions I’d never heard used in real life and hoped had been lost in the 1970s.

Yet the most shocking example of TV gone wrong recently wasn’t any of these, but the Jackson Jive act on Hey Hey It’s Saturday. It’s thirty years since Bert Newton wrongfooted Mohammed Ali with his infamous (yet genuinely innocent) “I like the boy” remark, and longer since The Black And White Minstrel Show was consigned to the cultural dustbin. So you’d have hoped that a true multicultural society might have become more attuned, yet the “Where’s Kamahl?” cartoon genuinely served to bundle all races of colour into the one basket that Richard Herring satirised. It isn’t about political correctness; it’s about being aware of a wider world - one in which the Lucky Country, with its detention camps and belated ‘Sorry’ is sometimes viewed as backward, homophobic and racist. Personally, I was simply embarrassed, and somewhat glad that this didn’t become a bigger story here, as it would have been impossible to defend my homeland. It’s not necessarily a question of racism, but it’s certainly one of sensitivity and awareness. Would they have been allowed to perform in blackface holding boomerangs, didgeridoos and a copy of the Mabo Treaty? To put it simply - “Wake Up Australia!”


© James McGalliard 2009

Scapegoating

London Fields # 58

First published Inpress, Melbourne on 3 December 2008

NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here

Righteous indignation seems to be favourite pastime of a disgruntled populace. Fanning the flames of anger helps to sell newspapers, so it’s become the backbone philosophy of certain British tabloids (or Red Tops as they’re known) and perhaps their lifeblood. Deliberately provocative language is used to heighten emotions, and the manipulation may also make you seethe with rage.

They need things for you to be angry about, and while there’s nothing new about making news out of nothing, this rebel-rousing feels like the work of the Ministry Of Truth. You’ll find stories of how youth are out of control, or how Britain is not as great as it was, or how foreigners are taking away British identity. And this sort of piffle perpetuates the vision of a decaying nation and opens the door to politicians that play on dreams of sovereignty and jingoistic nationalism.

The British believe strongly in justice. So when someone was voted off The X Factor is questionable circumstances, Ofcom (the broadcasting standards council), was besieged with complaints. In this instance, people actually watched that show, and made complaints themselves before it became a news story. But that’s not always the case.

I’m not sure how much of BBC’s Manuelgate permeated the Australian conscience, so here’s a brief précis. On a Thursday night, comedian Russell Brand was pre-recording his Saturday night show for BBC Radio 2, along with special guest Jonathan Ross, a near ubiquitous BBC presenter and talk show host. They unsuccessfully tried to contact Andrew Sachs (Manuel from Fawlty Towers) for a phone interview. As he was unavailable, they left four explicit messages on his answerphone, centring on Brand’s dalliance with Sach’s granddaughter, the burlesque performer Georgina Baillie. Perhaps the presenters felt no need to curb their exuberance as the show wasn’t being broadcast live, so anything too risqué could be edited out later. Sachs was contacted about the messages and content prior to actual transmission. Here, accounts vary; certainly some material was cut, and the show was approved by station management and broadcast, claiming an audience of 400 000. Two of these listeners complained - about Ross’s language, not the content itself. More than a week later, The Mail on Sunday picked it up as a story, and from there it snowballed into front page news, and stayed there for weeks, going on to become one of the most complained about broadcasts in the history of the BBC. Ross was suspended without pay for three months, while Brand resigned, as did other high ranking BBC staff, including Lesley Douglas, the controller of BBC Radio 2 and BBC 6Music. Georgina Baillie hired publicist Max Clifford, and was the centre of a Channel 5 documentary called Russell & Ross: What the F*** Was All That About?

There are a number of key questions raised by it all. Do people in public life have a right to privacy, or has the world of gossip magazines and paparazzi taken that away? Was anyone hurt by it? Was it funny? And what does it mean for comedy? Adrian Edmondson (Vyvyan of The Young Ones) writing for The Independent, and the brilliant Charlie Brooker (whose television programme about television Screenwipe has recently returned to BBC Four) in The Guardian questioned the effect there might be on comedy if producers were so worried about reprisals and recriminations for allowing material which pushed the boundaries.

The real thing that was called into question in all this is the BBC’s role as a public broadcaster. Yet perhaps the reason for the story was envy – of the sexual proclivities of Brand, and the enormous pay packet of Ross (£6 million a year). Can an organisation which is funded by the public afford to pay commercial salaries? It probably wasn’t helped by Ross’s quip about his income at last years British Comedy Awards - "I'm worth 1,000 BBC journalists". Personally, I’ll pay the licence fee just for Doctor Who. Incidentally, this story almost buried the news that David Tennant is stepping down from the central role in Doctor Who at the end of next year. But it did allow former Doctor Sylvester McCoy to suggest on GMTV that Sachs and Baille could take the show back to its roots, with the Doctor as an old man, accompanied on his travels by his granddaughter.

A few days after newsagents were left with unsold newspapers with Brand or Ross on their covers, Barack Obama was elected president, and these papers were all sold by lunch. Brits care about a lot more than their television. The short sad life and circumstances surrounding the death of Baby P was indeed a tragedy, and one that caused genuine feelings of revulsion and sadness. But the prurient humour of two adult schoolboys knocked the government’s huge bail-out of British banks off the front page; and made us forget that the US election wasn’t taking place in the UK. Britain hoped too when it had a major change in 1997, and I don’t think it will ever forgive the Blair government for what followed. One can only hope that Australia and America are not similarly disappointed in their respective new golden ages.


© James McGalliard 2008