We all like the good things in life, I mean, why else would we get up in the morning if there was nothing worth pursuing? And, whilst I haven't quite reached the echelons of old age yet, I'm pretty certain that even when I've retired I'll still hanker after good times albeit with a lengthy lay-in each morning. Sure, there's the ever constant worry of colostomy bags, severely rationed pensions and not having enough bread to feed the ducks, but by then I'll probably be Past Caring.

Genre: Drama
Channel: BBC1
Transmission: 02/11/1986

Living within a flatlet in a residential block for the retired, Victor is 67 years old and showing no signs of slowing up when it comes to enjoying the good life. And this is evidenced most explosively (literally) by his romantic dalliances with the wife of the block's warden. Unfortunately, their latest bout of nude fumblings interrupts Victor's careful watch over his homemade distillery and the block is soon engulfed in flames.


Whilst the flatlets are repaired - a lengthy process due to council cuts - Victor is temporarily transferred to Greenlawns, a residential home for the infirm and elderly. In charge of all the incontinence and senility at Greenlawns is Linda (Connie Booth) who takes a shine to Victor as he provides a more controlled dose of maturity compared to the other residents. And he certainly enjoys running his well honed game on her, but more of that later.


Also keen to make Victor's acquaintance is Edward (Emlyn Williams), an aging homosexual who was once a "damn pretty" valet and knew some beautiful boys way back when. Claiming that he's only hanging onto life to annoy Greenlawns, Victor recognises that the boozing and gambling Victor is a wrong'un and sets about establishing a friendship despite being rather miffed that Victor is now entering into a sexual relationship with Linda.


It's a relationship that Linda hints to Victor, early on during his stay at Greenlawns, should be nipped in the bud as becoming too involved with people at the home can lead to regrets. However, following a series of late night chats with a highly charming Victor, Linda is unable to resist his advances. Gradually, though, Victor's freewheeling approach to life becomes too apparent and, after falling asleep during coitus, Linda discovers that he was never serious about her.

Becoming yet another regret for Linda means that Victor's already numbered days at Greenlawns come to a swift conclusion and he leaves the home for pastures new.

Worth Caring About?

Written and directed by Richard Eyre, Past Caring first aired in November 1986 in a Sunday 9.10pm slot on BBC1 with a couple of repeats following in 1989 and 1993 on BBC1 and BBC2 respectively. Richard Eyre, of course, is a director of some repute having taken the helm at a series of theatre, opera, television and film productions over the last 50 years and his expertise is clear to see with the highly cinematic sheen of Past Caring. With a whole host of camera shots and angles deployed throughout, Past Caring feels much more in touch with today's 'golden age of television'.


And such fine cinematography - impressive even when squeezed into a 4:3 frame - is backed by actors who do justice to Eyre's directorial talents. Denholm Elliot, lovely, lovely Denholm Elliot with a voice that's all Jon Pertwee but with, dare I say it, even more charm casts a charming spell throughout Past Caring and it's no surprise that both Linda and, to some degree, Edward fall for him. Connie Booth, forever Polly from Fawlty Towers, is a real revelation here and the sexual energy that she's shot through with delivers a highly naturalistic performance. Emlyn Williams, as Edward, cements the talent on offer with his highly entertaining turn which digs deep down into his acting experience, a journey which started in the early 1930s. Sadly, a year later, Williams had passed away.


Putting three fantastic actors together doesn't always guarantee great chemistry, but thankfully it's somewhat of a no-brainer here. Victor and Edward paint a highly curious pairing both with their celebration of life's pleasures, but also their differing approaches to friendship - Edward seems desperate for some form of social connection (claiming he wants someone to say goodbye to), but Victor can't really see much point in friendships and jokingly quips that the only three friends he's ever had have committed suicide. At least I think it was a joke. I hope so.

Despite an age gap of over 20 years, Victor and Linda also make a highly convincing couple and the early sex scenes between the two feel overwhelmingly natural. Yes, some of this is due to the fantastic camerawork by Richard Eyre, but there's also a beautiful, early scene between the pair where Victor hints at the spark between them and leaves Linda almost blushing. It's a scene which captures Eyre's script at its best and allows me to neatly segue into a look at the narrative.


Adults behaving badly is a well worn trope, but Past Caring visits this territory with a script packed full of fantastic dialogue between the leads. The themes on offer don't, however, come through quite as clearly as they could though. Sure, there's an underlying sense of the elderly being just as badly behaved as in their youth - Victor recalls how he was constantly at it as a young man in train carriages - and still capable of embarking on disastrous relationships, but this merely leads to history repeating itself and the ending, which isn't entirely clear, is rather downbeat with no payoff aside from a feeling that we're all destined to stop caring.

It's a small criticism, but the more I think about it the more it renders my previous point redundant. Life can't always be a three act narrative where characters experience positive growth, so, yeah, the ending is highly reflective of life and keeps in line with the naturalistic airof Past Caring. Perhaps, then, the only mystery and disappointment of Past Caring is that we never learn too much about Stella (Joan Greenwood), a curious mute who follows Victor around Greenlawns with a melancholy sadness etched over her face. Did she once know Victor? The way he dismisses her wouldn't surprise me, but instead she's left hanging as a ghostly mystery. And, sadly, she too had died a year later.

An entertaining jaunt at just 77 minutes, Past Caring takes a close look at an age group not always well represented on television and provides plenty of reminders of the old school world of acting and writing. And that is truly one of the good things in life.

Going Live! Tiswas! SM:TV! Saturday Superstore! These are the shows that are regularly referenced as Saturday morning highpoints for children's TV (some may also mention Zokko! but, technically, that went out in the afternoon) but over the last 50 years there have been many more such shows. As you've probably guessed, I can remember plenty of these less iconic shows but, nonetheless, they still provided a little bit of excitement to otherwise mundane Saturday mornings. One that I remember catching, in particular, was The 8.15 from Manchester.

Genre: Children's
Channel: BBC1
Transmission: 1990 - 1991

A two series wonder, The 8.15 from Manchester, aired on Saturday mornings to cover the gap in the schedules left by Going Live's break between series. Believe it or not, but episodes started at 8.15am and were filmed in, you got it, Manchester - specifically the BBC Manchester studios. Being the early 90s, Madchester was in full flow, so coming on board to create the insanely catchy theme tune were baggy popsters Inspiral Carpets.


Ross King and Charlotte Hindle presented both series with Barry Foy contributing to the first series and weathergirl Dianne Oxberry joining the team in the final series. Being a Saturday morning kids show, you can pretty much guess what it consisted of: cartoons, pop stars, guests and various game showsegments. A whole range of pop stars appeared with early TV appearances by Blur, Take That and, uh, That Petrol Emotion with a number of these segments immortalised on YouTube.


Game shows featured included 'It's Tough at the Top' which saw children playing on a 3D board with a sort of Aztec/jungle theme where questions had to be answered and avoid landing on the slide squares which sent the unlucky child flying down into a pool of gunge. This was later replaced with 'The Wetter The Better" which found children and their teachers taking place in a series of games at Blackpool's Sandcastle Leisure Pool - the main aim of the game was to get the contestants soaking wet in a variety of ways, but Ross King was eventually soaked at the end of the final edition.


The 8.15 from Manchester also saw the debut of US cartoon Rude Dog and the Dweebs, but looking deep into British TVs past there were also repeat showings of Rentaghost and Grandad. There were repeats of American imports too with The Jetsons and Defenders of the Earth each getting a run out over the course of the series.

I remember The 8.15 from Manchester for two main reasons:

1. The theme tune by the Inspiral Carpets is a slab of baggy, melodic greatness which makes me yearn for the days of bowl haircuts and flared jeans - the theme tune is actually a slightly retooled version of the band's hit Find Out Why. And, of course, at the time of the second series, Michael Howlett from my class moved to Colchester and, for at least 3 minutes, everyone in our class seemed to be singing "THE 8.15 FROM COLCHESTER!" at him.

2. Even back then, aged 7/8, I was a Dad's Army fan so the opportunity to see Clive Dunn in another sitcom - a rarity at the time and even more so now - was an absolute treat. And I bloody loved Grandad - I've still got a VHS tape which has Grandad scrawled on the side of it, but it's since been recorded over sadly.


The series wasn't, however, the most wildly successful slice of Saturday morning children's TV and the two series lifespan seems about fair. It's a riotous enough addition to the canon of children's TV, but it doesn't quite hit the iconic highs of contemporary shows such as Going Live! and Live & Kicking. What's most interesting about flicking through the clips on YouTube and the listings on BBC Genome, though, is the variety of bands which featured and ensures that, at the very least, The 8.15 from Manchester acts as a curious time capsule of early 90s music.

We're so busy rushing about that we're constantly looking ahead and worrying what's coming towards us. Sure, it's an invaluable skill to possess whilst driving and whilst trying to navigate your way through the Boxing Day sales, but there's a whole world beneath our feet and it's a shame that we miss out on the wonders below. And, if you were to cock your eye towards the grass and leaves, you might be lucky enough to glimpse some Windfalls.

Genre: Children's
Channel: BBC1
Transmission: 14/04/1989 - 07/07/1989

"Wherever there are flowers and trees and grass there's always a Windfall Land. And in every Windfall Land you'll find Windfalls" narrator Peter Hawkins informs us as Windfalls starts, but what are Windfalls? Well, they're little characters made up from the leaves, petals and grasses that make up the natural landscape of Windfall Land. The main focus of Windfalls centres upon three of the Windfalls: Berry, Butterbur and Rosebay.


Together, these three characters interact with the many other inhabitants of Windfall Land such as Uncle Onion, Bella Donna, Cornflower and Evening Primrose to name but a few. You may be wondering what sort of adventures await such a curious collection of characters, but rest assured that the action won't find Uncle Onion being pursued by hipster foragers or Evening Primrose being hunted down for her previous Gamma Linolenic Acid (the chemical that can help with menopausal symptoms).


Instead, the world of nature will be explored with episodes finding our all-natural trio investigating how a rainbow forms, the dangers of mysterious berries from the woods and the importance of dock leaves when dealing with nettle stings. Each episode is comprised of two stories with a short interstitial sketch in between of a Pierrot clown larking about chucking bundles of flowers up onto his hat to balance or even creating a Windfall child from a bunch of flowers.

Pressing the Flowers

Created and written by actress, writer and traditional cooking expert Jenny Kenna, Windfalls consisted of 26 episodes (totalling 52 stories) and was produced by Central TV and FilmFair with episodes going out in the Friday 4.05pm slot on Children's ITV. Kenna reveals that the inspiration for Windfalls was one that was close to her heart and this passion helped her get the show onto our screens:

"My love of flowers and nature in general was my original inspiration.  I began to press flowers and leaves to create colourful collages of floral arrangements and one day by pure chance I formed a floral character. Before long I had a whole array of characters and knew they had to be part of a story and the natural story-lines could only be those linked to nature truths of which there were many.  Whilst writing these stories I met a TV producer who suggested the concept would make an interesting children’s television series.

I was introduced to Graham Clutterbuck of FilmFair and was told that if I could get my characters to walk across the screen they would consider making a pilot which would then be shown to Central TV in the hope that a series would be commissioned. Graham provided me with a small studio, a rostrum camera and a month to experiment.

Being totally non-technical I quickly had to learn the rudimentary skills of animation. It was very daunting but I was determined to get my little characters (which were only a few inches high) to walk. At the end of the month this was achieved albeit in very jerky fashion. Graham was delighted and soon an experienced animation team were brought together. The pilot was made and to my utter joy a series was commissioned"

Although a second series never followed - tragically, Graham Clutterbuck died before the end of the series - and repeats were not forthcoming, 18 of the 26 episodes were released over three VHS releases through the Little Croft Studios label.



Windfalls Beneath my Feet

One of Curious British Telly's loyal friends recently tipped me off to the existence of Windfalls, but it wasn't a show that I could remember watching despite my early 80s birth placing me in the perfect position to watch it. Upon checking the TV schedules for 1989, it transpired that Caterpillar Trail was airing over on Children's BBC in the same timeslot as Windfalls, but again this was a show which I can't remember watching. So, what was I doing back then when Windfalls aired? Well, I've got no idea, but I was probably playing on my Amstrad CPC.


Regardless of what I was doing, I eventually caught up with Windfalls (several episodes are up on YouTube)a cool 28 years after it first aired, but would it be a case of better late than never?

What's most immediately striking about Windfalls is its unusual aesthetics courtesy of the natural materials used to shape Windfall Land and its many narratives. Looking quite unlike any of its contemporaries, Windfalls is heavily indebted to nature and, as a result, feels much more like a European folk tale produced on the continent rather than at home in Britain.


A unique look which taps perfectly into the ethos of the series, but working with those materials (all pressed and once organic matter) must surely have been a nightmare, right? Well, Jenny Kenna remembers it being testing, but more than achievable with the right amount of skill and care:

"The natural materials were obviously very fragile so delicate handling was essential.  Fortunately, my clever French animator Isobel Perrichon was very dexterous, she hardly ever mislaid or damaged a single fragment including the lips, as these were made from miniscule pieces of petals and the eyes in many cases were tiny forget-me-not flowers. Sometimes the grasses of the landscapes would curl up under the heat of the lights and occasionally a leaf would become discoloured, so replacements had to be found immediately.

All the work had to be done using watchmakers tweezers from assembling the characters and backgrounds to the actual animation itself.  Animation with real flowers, leaves and grasses had never been done before so it did take a bit of practice to get used to working with this medium but once achieved the job became easier"

And, of course, the whole production had the backing and talents of FilmFair to call upon, so it's no surprise that their inimitable magic managed to breathe so much charm into the series. Working with FilmFair and, in particular, Graham Clutterbuck was a fantastic experience for Kenna as she reveals:

"FilmFair would not have been FilmFair without Graham Clutterbuck. He had the gift of understanding children’s mentality and knowing instinctively what type of programmes they would love to watch.  It was a pleasure to go to work each day and to be surrounded by so many creative people.

The whole atmosphere at Jacob’s Well Mews was thrilling - perhaps Paddington Bear was being edited in one of the editing suites or the rushes of Portland Bill were being viewed in another. It was a hub of creativity and I felt very privileged to be part of it all and proud that I played a small part of the animation life at FilmFair"


Berry, Butterbur and Rosebay are all very much on the same page as the young viewers at home as regards their knowledge of nature, so this provides Windfalls with a marvellous connection to the audience. After all, which kid doesn't like poking around at bushes, throwing petals up in the air and taking acorns home to proudly display on their shelf without actually knowing anything about these instruments of nature. Plenty of learning, therefore, goes on in Windfalls and, as children's TV should do, it provides important lessons through entertainment. And you can't hammer home the importance of not eating strange berries enough to small children who simply want to put everything in their mouths.


Windfall Land provides plenty of opportunity to learn about the wonders of nature be it about the nocturnal activities of Evening Primrose flowers or the nasty surprises lurking within stinging nettles. And it's such an idyllic little world - aside from the beautiful, yet sinister Bella Donna who lurks in Shady Wood alongside plenty of mysterious, creepy eyes in the dark - with its accordion led soundtrack that you can't help but be charmed and never look at flowers in the same way again. Jenny Kenna certainly doesn't, so I'll leave the closing comments to her:

"My love of nature continues and I’m pleased to say my book Crafty Leaves is a culmination of all the work that transpired from working with Windfalls and FilmFair (www.craftyleaves.co.uk)"

Jonathan Hughes (Nigel Planer) and his wife Libby (Susie Blake) host the daytime magazine show Wake Up! from the comfort of their garishly 90s armchairs against the backdrop of an equally charmless 90s show home. Producer Jeff Shreeve (Stephen Moore) would love Wake Up! to showcase the chemistry of Jonathan and Libby, but they've been running on empty for some time now. Accordingly, the duo's life is characterised by a creeping sense of misery, compounded by the Jonathan and Libby brand they feel beholden to. Maybe it's time for them to Wake Up!

Genre: Comedy
Channel: ITV
Transmission: 14/07/1994


Wake Up! was a pilot episode produced by Nigel Planer and Jamie Rix's then fledgling production company Elephant Productions for Tyne Tees and aired on ITV at 8.30PM on a Thursday. The idea behind the Wake Up! universe was devised by Planer (who seems to have been actively involved in most of Elephant's output), but the actual pilot - titled Let's Get Divorced - was written by Andrew Nickolds who had previously been employed as a narrative gag merchant (as they're known in the biz) on The Lenny Henry Show and Agony.

Remaining a one-off pilot, Wake Up! never made that magical (and no doubt lucrative) transition into a fully formed series and no repeats were forthcoming. Not surprisingly, there's very little mention of the show online and I, for one, certainly didn't watch it at the time. Well, not that I can remember, but I was heading off on my first every holiday abroad the following week (to France with school) and my thoughts were mostly occupied with what stickers and trading cards I would find for sale there. Thankfully, the world of archive TV is a strange old beast and I just happened to stumble across the pilot on an old VHS tape.


The Young Ones is probably one of my all time favourite comedies, it invigorates me with its punk energy and its surrealist nonsense leaves me rolling on the floor laughing with such ferocity it feels as though my diaphragm is about to rupture. So, yeah, I love it. And everyone involved in it. Therefore, a comedy with Nigel Planer comes complete with a direct link to The Young Ones and it's something that simply can't ignore. Note to readers: if I ever become lackadaisical about such matters please feel free to take me out the back and give me a Chinese burn. Anyway, the show...

The most obvious source material for Wake Up! is This Morning during its Richard and Judy phase, so Wake Up! certainly has plenty of comedy potential not just due to the mundanity of daytime magazine shows, but also due to Richard Madeley being such a real life caricature. And Jonathan Hughes certainly takes both these aspects and runs wildly towards a cliff edge with them; that's why we get interviews with Ned Hawking (the country's foremost expert on privet hedges) and Jonathan bumbling his way through (he doesn't even recognise Ned several minutes after their interview).


Central to Wake Up!, of course, is the turbulent relationship between Jonathan and Libby which has clearly been strained for many, many years. Barbs fly between the two on and off the air and this hints at the no doubt immense pressure that a relationship in the public eye must bring. And Planer and Blake are both in fantastic form here, playing to their characters strengths to create plenty of lively conflict. However, this tension has a tendency to feel a bit too uncomfortable and this factor seems to find its footing in Jonathan's character.

Sure, we all love a sitcom monster, look at Basil Fawlty, David Brent and the man who shares a significant amount of DNA (and taste in terrible jackets) with Jonathan, Alan Partridge, but all of these characters have a particularly poignant and tragic air to them. As a result, we can't help but love them and want to see these obnoxious gases of humanity succeed. Jonathan Hughes, on the other hand, is just plain nasty with absolutely no redeeming features, essentially just arrogance, affairs and sneers on legs.


Libby, of course, is much more likeable and there's definitely a healthy dose of sympathy prescribed her way, so maybe Wake Up! could have been much more fascinating if the story was told primarily from her angle - a woman robbed of a life (as insinuated by the makeup girls) due to her being shackled to Jonathan and expected to stay there. It could have provided an intriguing insight into the world of relationships in showbiz, but Wake Up! never continued and, given the divorce storyline in the pilot, I'm not entirely sure it had legs.


Naturally, pilots are never the finished article, but just a few months later Knowing Me, Knowing You aired and the tragic, egotistical television presenter was taken to a whole new dimension. One which rendered anything even remotely similar as impotent on sight and I doubt anyone else would wish for anything different.

In 2017 you can film, edit and watch whatever takes your cinematic fancy within minutes thanks to the advance in mobile phone technology. And that's at an incredibly amateur level, if you want to film something with higher production values you can achieve this for several hundred pounds thanks to digital technology. Back in the 1980s, though, even if you wanted to film an out of focus wedding reception (not always a bad thing considering the haircuts) it was a much more testing and time consuming task. Thankfully, ready to lend a hand, was Video Active. 

Genre: Education
Channel: BBC1
Transmission: 29/03/1987 - 03/05/1987


Video Active is an introductory guide to making home videos presented by Sue Robbie.Helping newcomers to the world of video cameras, the series helps people get the best out of non-professional setups by hammering home the basics of film making to help budding directors avoid the most common mistakes. After all, unpacking a video camera along with a collection of tangled, alien wires and an instruction manual thicker than a Leo Tolstoy novel can be rather intimidating, so this is why Sue Robbie is here to tackle the principles of lighting, framing a shot and, most excitingly, special effects.

Setting Up

Thanks to the boom in home camcorder sales during the 1980s, Video Active took full advantage of the public interest in this exciting phenomena and aired as a six part series on BBC1 in 1987. The 30 minute episodes went out late on Sunday eveningsjust before 11pm and were repeated later on in the year on BBC1 and, finally, on BBC2 as part of the Daytime on Two schedule. A book to accompany the series was released and, rather obviously, a VHS release of the series followed.


Putting the Video In

Earlier on this year, I picked up a huge collection of old VHS tapes from a friend of Curious British Telly who not only recorded countless TV shows which have ended up on my YouTube page, but was also a huge Sue Robbie fan. Accordingly, there was plenty of Sue Robbie footage on the tapes and this included a few episodes of Video Active. Not being a film maker, myself, I didn't really think I'd find much interest in the episodes, but I had become a Sue Robbie convert and couldn't turn down watching her in action.


And, yes, Robbie is in fine fettle throughout Video Active. She's got this incredible sense of enthusiasm which, when combined with her elfin smile, generates dangerous levels of charm which can't fail to engage. Never even veering close to a feeling of this being "just another job", Robbie immerses herself fully in the subject and manages to somehow deliver not only a sense of authority in her presenting, but still retain her effervescent and accessible glamour.


Home video technology has come on leaps and bounds since the days of Video Active, actually, scrub that, it's come on absolute light years. As a result, most of the technology featured in Video Active is as dated as a Berni Inn's chicken in a basket. In 1987 most of the country had a VHS player at home which could be used to playback camcorder footage, but very few people (myself excluded) still have an active VHS player in their front room 30 years on. It's progress, of course, but does this mean that Video Active is completely redundant?

Well, partly, yes as searching the series out and then watching it is quite a task when YouTube houses a million videos covering all manner of technical tips, tricks and advice for modern equipment. Nonetheless, Video Active is a comprehensive guide to the basics of filming and tips such as positioning even the most basic of lights to dramatically enhance a picture provide invaluable advice which remains relevant. And Video Active also acts as a fantastic snapshot of the amateur filming movement of Britain in the mid-80s and the type of equipment that was readily available, so for any film historians this provides an intriguing taste of the day.


And, even to those who aren't film historians, there is a tonne of retro goodness lurking within the tape spools of Video Active. The visit to Swindon's Media Arts Lab introduces us to youth subcultures such as a gang of 80s punks and, at the opposite end of the spectrum, a group of beatboxing hip hop kids with their curious South West accents. The wonderfully charming Eric regales the ever attentive Robbie with his adventures in the world of video letters (much more personable than just words or an audio letter) which seem ridiculously quaint in today's age of FaceTime and Skype.


And, my favourite episode is the 'Effective Illusions' episode with its look at sometimes dizzying homemade special effects that, although looking like a budget Doctor Who, possess an amateur charm all of their own - and the nuclear attack effects are as disturbing as ever. Most exciting of all, though, is the sinister and ghostly snatch of amateur film in the 'Strike a Light' episode which is entitled 'Labyrinth of the Lost Souls' and produced by the Victorian Theatre Company (if anyone has the full film of this then please get in touch!)


My love of such retro delights is, understandably, rather niche but if you're reading this blog then you're probably going to love looking at all the contemporary 80s culture on offer at the very least, so it's more than worth a quick flick. And, if you're a Sue Robbie fan, then it's absolutely obligatory viewing as always.

I was flicking through one of those 'Greatest Children's TV Shows' things the other day and, yes, the shows it listed were indeed fantastic, but what about the other children's shows that were making up the schedules as Tiswas, Knightmare and Grange Hill were unfolding?

I'm pretty sure that they're still worthy of recognition in some way (even if they're forgotten for good reason), so that's why I've decided to pull together 42 lesser known British children's TV shows to give a fuller understanding of what children's TV is capable of.

1. Codename Icarus - BBC1 - 1981


Airing in late 1981 on BBC1, Codename Icarus - written by Richard Cooper -is perhaps one of the most intelligent and unpatronising shows ever produced for British children. Concerning itself with the fortunes of child prodigy Martin Smith (Barry Angel), Codename Icarus looks at the exploitation of easily malleable child geniuses to help further the nefarious needs of John Doll, the head of Farleigh School.

It's not easy to serve up psychological torture, threats to British defences and a sense of complete helplessness to young viewers, but thanks to a dose of espionage provided by Andy Rutherford (Jack Galloway) and Barry Angel's fine performance, Codename Icarus is an absorbing watch which gives its audience's intelligence plenty of respect in a hard hitting slice of children's drama.

2. Len and the River Mob - BBC1 - 1968


Children need to know how to read as it's an essential skill for navigating their way through life and enjoying the simple, yet timeless wonder of the written word. Accordingly, television has been doing its best to encourage reading ever since its very early days. And, in 1968, Len and the River Mob landed on our screens as part of the Look and Read series to help boost and enhance the reading skills of British youngsters. Written by Roy Brown, Len and the River Mob was a 10 part series which aired on BBC1.

Len Tanner (George Layton - yes, him of Doctor at Large, It Ain't Half Hot Mum and Minder) wants to buy his friend Pat a doll, but the local shop has been robbe. Saddened by this, Len heads down to his job at the docks and discovers a box of dolls. It turns out that the 'River Mob' have been up to no good and Len's boss, Mr Moon (Kenneth Colley) is deeply involved with them. In order to uncover the crimes taking place, Len risks kidnap and, well, he dreads to think what else. And, of course, there's plenty of time for Len, safely back in a studio, to go through the words on offer (and their phonics) to tie everything up in a bundle of learning.

3. Mick and Mac - BBC1 - 1990


Ushering in the 1990s (well, it first aired on 3rd January 1990), Mick and Mac was a curious idea for a children's show which mixed slapstick, animation and Michael Barrymore all at once.Written by Geoff Atkinson (the man behind Heil Honey, I'm Home!) and Andy Walker, Mick and Mac was a 13 episode series which made up part of the Children's BBC schedule.

Mick (Michael Barrymore) is a cartoonist whose drawing board happens to be home to a cartoon character (actually a man in a suit) who goes by the name of Mac (David Jarvis). Episodes start with Mick and Mac bickering and chatting, but Mick soon gets to work and draws a cartoon featuring Mac in action. The action then shifts to Mick dipping his toe into the world of slapstick as he takes on an everyday task - such as wallpapering - with hilarious consequences.

4. Windfalls - ITV - 1989


Stop motion animation is a painstaking task at the best of times, but when you're trying to achieve this with all-natural, fragile materials such as pressed flowers, petals and even onion skins, it's a monumental task. However, it's not impossible as Windmills demonstrated through it's inimitable aesthetics - provided by the legendary FilmFair - which helped to teach children about the natural world lurking beneath our feet and it's accompanying joys and dangers.

The short five minute stories - produced by Central Television and written by Jenny Kenna - are fronted by Berry, Butterbur and Rosebay, but they are also joined by countless other botanical friends such as Uncle Onion, Evening Primrose and Cornflower. Together they investigate the wonders of Windfall Land and learn how dock leaves could soothe nettle stings and how rainbows form, but they all agree it's probably best to stay away from Shady Wood where Bella Donna lurks with her poisonous berries.

5. Over the Moon - BBC1 - 1978


Science is highly important for us to understand this crazy world we live in and preschoolers are no exception. In fact, they perhaps need to get to grips with the world around us more than anyone else on the planet. And, thanks to the tutorial friendliness of presenter Sam Dale, the under fives of the late 1970s were able to learn about all manner of scientific concepts. Over the Moon is so keen to explain the scientific world that it tackles gravity, the difference in gas densities and why the static generated by a balloon rubbed on a jumper can be so much fun.

Helping to maximise the fun content, Over the Moon couples all this scientific know-how with accompanying animations provided by such luminaries as Pigeon Street's Alan Rogers and Mr Benn's Leo Beltoft whilst they are soundtracked by a host of stars including Jasper Carrott, Don Spencer and Barbara Courtney King. Over the Moon doesn't just succeed in entertaining and teaching young children, but also ticks the same boxes for any adults watching.

6. Gilbert's Fridge - ITV - 1988


Gilbert the Alien (voiced by Phil Cornwell) first found fame in Get Fresh, but proved so popular that he soon span off into his own series, Gilbert's Fridge, which was produced by Tyne Tees Television. 10 episodes aired on Thursday afternoons over on Children's ITV and were written by Phil Cornwell.

Gilbert's Fridge, much like a real fridge, features all manner of items along with Gilbert's customary and trademark snot. One segment can find Gilbert cooking a quick gateau with Rustie Lee whilst the next may see him interviewing Yello before the action launches into POW drama How Far to Hitchin?

Packed full of attitude (and Phil Cornwell's typical genius), Gilbert's Fridge was an anarchic and hilarious series. It's unusual that Gilbert, himself, isn't as well remembered as other puppets from the 1980s, but such is life and, at the very least, Gilbert's Fridge is evidence of his brilliance.

7. Dizzy Heights - BBC1 - 1990 to 1993


Alan Heap and Mick Wall run Dizzy Heights Hotel, a seaside hotel with a luxurious, curved staircase and classy flock wallpaper. What could possibly go wrong? Well, everything as it happens. Haunted almost constantly by the ghoulish, gluttonous latex horrors known as the Gristle family, Heap and Wall are subjected to disastrous happenings which make Fawlty Towers look like a break in the sun.

Chaotic encounters with opera singers, disastrous attempts at returning a magic wand to a magician and having to deal with an evil duke leave Heap and Wall with their heads in their hands on a weekly basis. Oh, and they have two mice - Morty and Myrtle - living in the stairs with a whole host of subplots to help maximise the chaos on offer in Dizzy Heights. Crucially, though, all these manic exploits help to create a children's sitcom which is ridiculously funny and even led to a spin-off for the Gristle family in 1994's The House of Gristle.

8. The Telebugs- ITV - 1986 to 1987


Who doesn't love a good robot? Packed full of technological wonder, they offer a glimpse of the future and, you know, the fact that some of them can fly around and even change into lorries is pretty damn cool. Accordingly, it's no surprise that kids love them, so that's why The Telebugs were perfectly poised to capture the attentions of young viewers. Created by John M. Mills and Elphin Lloyd Jones, The Telebugs was produced by Telemagination for Television South in the mid 1980s and chalked up 85 episodes over the course of three series.

The short and sweet five minute episodes found CHIP (Coordinated Hexidecimal Information Processor), SAMANTHA (Solar Activated Micro Automated Non-inTerference Hearing Apparatus) and BUG (Binary Unmanned Gamma camera) creating not just a mouthful with their names, but also plenty of adventures as they battled Angel Brain, Magna, Baron Bullybyte and the Telebug turned evil ZUDO (Zero-failure Universal Data Optimizer). Perhaps inspiring the televisual stomachs of the Teletubbies, the Telebugs were designed by Professor Brainstrain to have TVs for faces - a design which made them just perfect to be TV reporters for the local TV station ran by Mr McStarch.

9. Brainchild - BBC1 - 1974 to 1975


Most famous for his news presenting on Newsround, John Craven has also presented a few quiz shows in his time; one of the earliest was Brainchild which aired on BBC1 during the mid 1970s and chalked up two series with a total of 15 episodes - all of which are now sadly missing having fallen foul of the BBC's junking policy. The main thrust of Brainchild is for two teams of two children to take on the general knowledge questions that BERYL (Brainchild's Electronic Random Year and Letter indicator) has stored in her memory bank. Each week sees the teams attempting to beat the series' highest score so that Craven can crown them Brainchild of the year.

10. Two D's and a Dog - ITV - 1970


Hot on the heels of their success in Do Not Adjust Your Set, David Jason and Denise Coffey's next move was to star in Thames'Two D's and a Dog whilst a number of their pals from DNAYS went on to star in a little TV show called Monty Python's Flying Circus. Written by Jan Butlin, the six episodes of Two D's and a Dog aired over the summer of 1970 and centred around the adventures of Dorry Charles (Denise Coffey), Dingle Bell (David Jason) and their dog Fido.

With poor Dorry's father having passed away recently, Dorry is penniless, but determined. Hopping onto an antique motorbike with her chauffeur Dingle and Fido, the trio head off in search of work and financial remuneration. Episodes see the intrepid triumvirate heading down to the seaside, meeting Mr and Mrs Chick Chick and even being hired as ghost hunters in order to earn a crust to survive. Little is known about this early chapter of David Jason's career - although Jason now views it as a misstep in his career - but all the episodes remain in the Thames archive, so the remote chance of a repeat remains.

11. Ghost Train - ITV - 1989 to 1991


An ITV Saturday morning magazine show produced by Tyne Tees Television, Ghost Train ran for three series running up 63 episodes. 1990 also saw a spinoff popping up on Sundays in the form of Ghost Train on Sunday.

Frances Dodge has inherited a ghost train from his grandmother, but it's in the clutches of Barry Mafia (Joe Hall). Striving to get back what is rightfully his, Frances captures the ghost train with the help of Paul J Medford and  Sabra Williams. Finding Gerard (Angelo Abela) and Nobby the Sheep inside, the team use the ghost train as a platform for showcasing pop stars and showing cartoons such as Scooby Doo, all whilst trying to keep Barry Mafia at bay. 

12. Palace Hill - ITV - 1988 to 1991


A spinoff from sketch show Your Mother Wouldn't Like It, the educational goings-on of Palace Hill were a somewhat unique sitcom featuring, over its three series, a procession of pupils based upon members of the royal family who just happen to be attending a comprehensive school. That's why we get to see Princes William and Harry turning up for French lessons and even a severe lampooning of Prince Charles in the guise of Chas Slough (do you see what they did there?). Oh, and for good measure there's also a headmistress in the form of Maggie Thatcher. And did I mention that the final series is set in outer space? No? Well it is.

Like its parent sketch show, Palace Hill (the title of which was an obvious parody of Grange Hill) was produced by Central Television and episodes written by Peter Corey and Bob Hescott. The gaggle of pupils were all handpicked from the Central Junior Television Workshop and ensured that there was plenty of established chemistry between the young stars. At times surreal and taking a bite of a satirical apple which has long since been kept out of reach of children's TV, Palace Hill stands out with such vigour that it's almost unfathomable as to why it's not remembered by everyone who grew up in the late 80s.

13. Juniper Jungle - BBC1 - 1992 to 1993


Created by Bobby Ball - who also sang the theme tune - and based on a series of children's books, Juniper Jungle was a 12 episode series produced by Storm Group Production which first aired on Children's BBC in late 1992. Providing the voices for the animated characters of Juniper Jungle were Maxton Beesley, Jonathon Donne and Sarah Dangerfield. However, who were these characters? And what exactly were they up to? Well...

A common theme of children's TV shows - and, come to think of it, any type of narrative - is to have good guys pitted about bad guys and that's exactly what Juniper Jungle is going for. The Nasties of Swampland appear to have a serious beef with the pleasant, peaceful folk of Juniper Jungle and seem hell bent on making their lives miserable. Hence, we find Miserable Mattress hypnotising perennial good guy Toby the Turtle into becoming a bankrobber and The Nasties even go as far as kidnapping the Beanleaders in order to destroy all sense of normality.

14. Words, Words, Words - ITV - 1985


Back in the mid 1980s, Marjorie Sigley was working at Thames Television in the lofty position of head of children's programming. Wanting to familiarise young viewers with the wonders of the alphabet, she set about devising Words, Words, Words, a 13 episode series which went out on ITV and was written by a seemingly endless list of writers.

Starring Andrie Reid, Aaron Shirley, Matilda Thorpe, Paul Venables and Donald Waugh, Words, Words, Words is a mixture of sketches, stories and dance to help keep the viewers' errant attentions on track. Treats include stories about Eggbert the Egg (appearing in plays such as 'Romeo and Juliegg' and 'Omelette') whilst the opening song about words is an insanely 80s mixture of pastel coloured outfits and smiles turned up to 11. Not the most popular children's show in the grand scheme of things it only managed one series before disappearing into the ether.

15. Zingalong - ITV - 1970 to 1972


You just try and stop children from singing, they love it, they absolutely love it and, in the early 1970s, Thames Television decided to give them the opportunity to sing with some actual real life singers in Zingalong; it certainly beat singing along to a transistor radio. Three series were produced with episodes running to 15 minutes and featuring school children backing up stars including Sandie Shaw, Gerry Marsden and Clinton Ford.

16. CBTV - ITV - 1982 to 1985


Sticking with Thames, our next illustrious and dusty entry is CBTV (Citizens Band Television) which aired in the first half of the 1980s on Children's ITV. Running for four series, there were a total of 137 episodes running to 25 minutes each. A magazine show - purportedly as part of a pirate TV station atop Thames Studios - CBTV is fronted by Jim Sweeney and Steven Steen. Also popping up as presenters on CBTV are 80s stalwarts Mike Smith and Anneka Rice.

Each week finds Jim and Steve having to sneak past Thames security guard Harry Fielder in a series of ingenious disguises be it lurking in the back of a limousine or dressed up as sheep in amongst a flock of actual sheep. Once in the CBTV studio, features include interviews with Madness, a Kajagoogoo special and the team even interrupt a 'rehearsal' by Morecambe and Wise who are on fantastic form. Wildly popular back when it aired, it's since slid into rather obscure territory due to a lack of repeats and very little archive footage making its way online.

17. Ed and Zed! - BBC1 - 1970


Ed and Zed! was a Saturday lunchtime BBC1 show which ran for nine episodes in late 1970 and was written by Jack Tinker and Paul Ciani, with direction duties also taken on by Ciani. The series only ever aired once, but is notable for being one of the earliest attempts at Saturday morning magazine shows for children, even if it did, technically, air at lunchtime. The series was a follow up of sorts to Zokko! but more about that later...

The episodes find DJ Ed Stewart and 'rebel robot' Zed presenting clips from Walt Disney films and The Wizard of Oz, but most intriguing are the weekly music guests displaying their biggest and newest hits. Popping up throughout the series are contemporary popsters such as Hot Chocolate, Mud, Gulliver's People and even Vanity Fare. An unusual time capsule of the sounds of the 1970s, Ed and Zed! remains not only an interesting cultural artifact, but also acts as an early stepping stone for Saturday morning TV shows such as Swap Shop and Going Live!

18. Ragdolly Anna - ITV - 1982 to 1987


The life of a doll can seem as inanimate as its form, but the truth is - according to Ragdolly Anna - actually very different and can take all manner of surreal twists and turns. Produced by Yorkshire TV, Ragdolly Anna was transmitted throughout the 1980s on ITV and, over the course of three series, clocked up 30 episodes. The series was based on a series of books written by Jean Kenward.

Ragdolly Anna is a small doll who lives with the little dressmaker (Pat Coombes), the wise white cat and, of course, the dressmaker's dummy. Not wanting to reduce Ragdolly Anna's life to that of a mere ornament, the little dressmaker is keen to take Ragdolly Anna out and about to show her the world and what life is all about. And that's why episodes of Ragdolly Anna find curious little narratives taking place such as Ragdolly Anna falling down a drain (on her way to buy bacon, no less) and encountering a talking frog or even making a tin hat for a talking scarecrow. Unseen on British TV for 30 years, Ragdolly Anna is packed full of gentle, offbeat delights and deserves much more recognition.

19. Parallel 9 - BBC1 - 1992 to 1994


A summer replacement to fill the Saturday morning gap left by Going Live!/Live & Kicking, Parallel 9 was produced by Roach & Partners at Pinewood studios. Three series aired in the early 90s with a total of 64 episodes.

The basic premise of the first series finds Mercator (Roddy Maude-Roxby) banished to an inter-dimensional space prison where he is only allowed to be awake for two hours a week - 9am to 11am on Saturdays. Mercator is also blessed with the ability to beam up celebrities from Earth. The second series moves the action to a space station and also introduces characters such as Brian the Dinosaur.

20. Runaround - ITV - 1975 to 1981


Based upon the American children's TV show of the same name, Runaround was a quiz show for children produced by Southern Television which ran for 12 series (which was 11 more than it's original US incarnation) from the mid 70s through to the early 80s and totalled 100 episodes. The series came to an end in 1981 when Southern Television lost their franchise to Television South. Mike Reid was the original host, but was then replaced by Leslie Crowther and then Stan Boardman before Reid returned for the last three years of Runaround.

Runaround pits two schools against each other in a quiz battle which runs the whole gamut of general knowledge. However, that would be a little too sedentary to keep young minds entertained, so contestants are, instead, expected to run towards one of three circles to indicate their answer. The 'runaround' angle appears when contestants are given a few seconds to give their (possibly copycat opponents) the runaround by jumping into a different circle. Coloured balls are awarded to contestants with the correct answers whilst incorrect answers see contestants being sent to the dungeon. Prizes for the victors included bikes and TVs - the dream of almost every child in the 1970s.

21. Whoosh! - BBC1 - 1968

An early forerunner of Saturday morning children's TV along with Zokko! (more on that later)and Ed and Zed!, Whoosh! was a 1968 BBC1 series which went out in the 12.25pm on Saturday afternoons. The brainchild of Cynthia Felgate and Peter Ridsdale-Scott, Whoosh! delivered 10 episodes which were "a place where anything can happen" and starred Rick Jones, Dawn Macdonald and Jonathan Collins.

Unfortunately, all 10 episodes (apart from some end credits) have been wiped, so it's difficult to tell what did happen. Rick Jones tells me that "it was based in an imaginary central headquarters with pneumatic message delivery tubes everywhere", but even his memories are vague and he starred in it! The Radio Times listings show that the trio visit the fair and follow a mysterious map with surprising consequences, so we can only dream of the wonders which lay within.

22. Erasmus Microman - ITV - 1988 to 1989


If you've ever turned on your TV set then there's a good chance that Ken Campbell has appeared in one of your favourite shows as he's popped up in Fawlty Towers and Lovejoy, so it's a rare and quie bizarre individual who doesn't adore either of those two shows. However, less well known is Erasmus Microman which was produced by Mirageland for Granada and consisted of two series with seven episodes each. The series, which went out on Children's ITV, was written Stephen Trombley and Gary Hopkins.

Erasmus Microman (Ken Campbell) is a rather eccentric chap who claims to be 1005 years old and, in order to wake up TV junkie children to the wonders of science, has taken up residence in the TV owned by siblings Ben (Nick Pickard) and Jane (Thea Redmond). Annoyingly they're unable to just switch channels to get rid of Erasmus, so, instead, they have to enter the TV set and embark on a voyage of discovery where they meet great scientists such as Archimedes, Einstein and Newton. The second series sees a shift in narrative as Erasmus is now hot on the trail of Dr Dark (Lee B. McPlank) and, this time, the educational factor focuses on inventions including computers, television and communications.

23. The Pig Attraction - ITV - 1993


Puppets populate our childhoods with a regularity which means if we're not messing about with finger puppets then we're either at a Punch and Judy show or watching a TV show featuring puppets. And, in 1993, a children's TV show in the form of The Pig Attraction came along which lifted the lid on the world of puppetry. 10 episodes of The Pig Attraction were produced by HTV for ITV and the series was devised by puppeteer Simon Buckley.

Billie the Pig runs The Pig Attraction, a documentary-cum-chat show which investigates various puppetry techniques and even features, in one episode, Peter Baldwin aka Derek Wilton from Coronation Street discussing his love of Victorian puppet theatres. Meanwhile, Billie the Pig interviews puppet stars such as Roland Rat and Hartley Hare all whilst Billie (along with Simon Buckley) attempts to calm the backstage chaos caused by rampaging puppets.

24. Go with Noakes - BBC1 - 1976 to 1980


John Noakes' legendary exploits in Blue Peter as its go-to action man led to the creation of Go With Noakes to concentrate on his adrenaline inducing and endurance bursting exploits. A total of six series aired on BBC1 with 31 episodes being produced by David Brown and BBC Manchester. The series was later repeated as Look Back with Noakes whilst Peter Duncan went on to helm a similar series under the title of Duncan Dares.

Go with Noakes finds Noakes - who is joined by Shep (yes, the Blue Peter dog) - travelling around the country and visiting all manner of institutions and events to try his hand at raising his pulse rate to dangerous levels or challenging his seemingly endless stamina. And he achieves this by flying with the Red Arrows, training with the Castleford rugby league team and even enters Ireland's toughest canoe race. However, not every episode is a white knuckle ride and the endurance based tasks aim more at stretching his leg muscles to ridiculous extremes, so one week may find such Noakes and Shep hiking through the Scottish Highlands whilst the next week can see them traversing the Cornish coastline.

25. Jonny Briggs - BBC1 - 1985 to 1987


Blessed with one of the finest brass led theme tunes ever committed to videotape - courtesy of Colin Buchanan's trombone take on The Acrobat - Jonny Briggs aired as part of Children's BBC in the mid 1980s. Based on a series of books written by Joan Eadington, the two series of Jonny Briggs were adapted for television by Valerie Georgeson and directed by Christine Secombe who had previously directed Grange Hill and Jackanory.

Jonny Briggs (Richard Holian) is a young lad living in Yorkshire (although the books were set in Middlesbrough) with his Mam (Jane Lowe), Dad (Leslie Schofield), older sister Rita (Sue Devaney) and brothers Albert (Tommy Robinson) and Humphrey (Jeremy Austin). Together with his pal Pam (Georgina Lane), Jonny finds himself constantly at odds with the twins Ginny and Josie, falling down cellars, trying to keep tabs on his dog Razzle and, perhaps most excitingly, flying a kite whilst trying to avoid a water balloon battle. Almost a kitchen sink drama thanks to its working class, Northern sensibilities, Jonny Briggs is quite unlike any of its contemporaries.

26. Atarah's Music - ITV - 1984

Produced by Granada and consisting of 13 episodes going out in the lunchtime and afternoon Children's ITV slots, Atarah's Music showcases the extensive musical knowledge of Atarah Ben-Tovin with the help of Ian Lavender. Whilst Atarah educates the young viewers on the basics of a flute, there's also time for stories about orchestra instruments such as Frances Flute going for a ride in a spaceship. Each week looks at a different instrument, so there's time to examine clarinets, trumpets and drums.

27.  Mop and Smiff  - BBC1 - 1985


Cats and dogs make for unusual bedfellows - especially if you've ever read the Beano where they're constantly at each other's throats - but they can actually get on like a house on fire as evidenced in Mop and Smiff. Created by musician/actor/all round nice bloke Mike Amatt, Mop and Smiff was a 13 episode series produced by BBC Manchester which mixed animation and live action. And who directed it? Well, surprisingly, it was Sid Waddell aka the voice of BBC darts coverage for many years.

Moving onto the actual series, Mop and Smiff finds Mike Amatt living in an idyllic village in amongst the rolling hills of Lancashire. He's not alone, of course, as he's joined by his loyal sheepdog Mop and cat Smiff. Episodes find Mike and Mop venturing into the village to visit the post office, watch a wedding and meet Mop's extended family. Once their stroll round the village is complete, Mike and Mop head home for lunch with Smiff before the furry duo fall asleep and Mike sketches their dreams. These sketches morph into animations where Mop and Smiff develop voices provided by Timothy West and Prunella Scales respectively.

A follow up to Mop and Smiff aired later on in 1985 under the title of Mike, Mop and the Moke. This series found Mike and Mop travelling around coastal towns in an Austin mini Moke to play games and interact with local children.

28. Tales of the Rodent Sherlock Holmes - BBC1 - 1990


The final show (for now) that Roland Rat made for the BBC, Tales of the Rodent Sherlock Holmes was a one series affair which aired on Saturday mornings on BBC1 as part of the Saturday Starts Here early morning strand. The series was written by long term Roland Rat collaborators Dominic MacDonald and Colin Bostock-Smith.

Tales of the Rodent Sherlock Holmes quite clearly takes its inspiration from Conan Doyle's hero but everything is a bit more rodenty. Sherlock Holmes (Roland Rat) and Dr Watson (Kevin the Gerbil) have to investigate dangeorous canary trainers, take on an empty box (yes, an empty box) and tackle the nefarious Blue Carbuncle. Attempting to thwart Baker Street's finest are a host of villains played by Rodney Bewes, Barbara Windsor and Mollie Sugden.

29. Fat Tulip's Garden - ITV - 1985 to 1987


Imagination is crucial for young children as, let's face it, without access to ready cash and transport they're a little bit limited when it comes to resources for fun. Thankfully, creativity is completely free and Fat Tulip's Garden (and it's follow up Fat Tulip Too) took full advantage of this. Devised by Tony Robinson and producer Debbie Gates, 26 episodes of Fat Tulip's Garden/Fat Tulip Too were produced by Central Television andaired on Children's ITV over two series worth of imaginative fun.

Fat Tulip lives in a delightful house with an even more delightful garden where all manner of surreal escapades take place. Joined by his friend Thin Tim, Fat Tulip has to contend with Fred the Baddy - a purple imp with a penchant for stink bombs and kippers - along with tins of paint, lost keys and jam doughnuts. Beneath Fat Tulip's feet, of course, a whole other world involving the animals of the garden is unfolding: Ernie and Sylv the frogs are shocked to discover that the filthy frogs Peter, Paul and Mary are moving in whilst Lewis Collins (a tortoise) decides he can leap over Fat Tulip's house.

This may sound like a busy, crowded cast, but there's only actually one cast member in Fat Tulip's Garden and that's Tony Robinson. Leaping and gurning his way around the house (now sadly a charred, gutted husk), Tony uses nothing but his unstoppable imagination to bring all the characters to life and create this offbeat universe.

30. Jamie - ITV - 1971


Jamie was an LWT series written by Denis Butler that comprised 13 episodes which went out on Sundays over the summer period with episodes being 25 minutes long. Jamie's narrative finds young Jamie Dodger on a historical trip after discovering a magic, time travelling carpet in the the junk shop owned by Mr Zed (Aubrey Morris). Along with his best friend Tink Bellow (Nigel Chivers), Jamie heads off through history stopping off at The Battle of Hastings and meets historical luminaries including Guy Fawkes and Horatio Nelson.  

31. Fox Tales - ITV - 1985


Created by Susan Kodicek and Rosta Cerny - masters of the black light theatre technique - Fox Tales was a 13 episode series which first aired in the ITV lunchtime slot in 1985. Episodes lasted 10 minutes long and featured narration from Peter Davison who wasn't long out of his stint as the fifth Doctor Who. The black light theatre techniques on offer allowed Kodicek and Rosta Cerny to free their creations from the limitations of strings and, instead, gave them much more freedom to work against black backdrops and increase the range of movement of their puppets. This captivating aesthetic and atmosphere was backed by the jaunty, yet mysterious score provided by Ilona Sekacz.

Fox Tales is, not surpisingly, a series of tales told by a fox about a fox. There's a little more to it, though, and Mrs Fox finds herself having to contend with the carnivorous advances of Mr Wolf (who tries to disguise himself as a pear) and, in another episode, Mrs Fox becomes the hungry, salivating fiend when she catches Rabbit in a sack, but her dinner plans go awry thanks to the bumbling interference of Bear. With its unique look and sounds, Fox Tales can feel a little creepy at time but it's a wonderful example of Central European influences manifesting themselves on British TV.

32. Bad Boyes - BBC1 - 1987 to 1988


Bad Boyes, written and created by Jim Eldridge, consisted of two series produced by Jeremy Swan and transmitted on Children's BBC in the late 1980s. The series is based around the fortunes of Brian Arthur Derek Boyes (Stephen Kember) and the various hijinks he gets up to at school. Episodes can easily find Boyes losing a chicken, trapping teachers in a boiler room and setting up an illegal home for pets. Naturally, he has a tendency to rub people up the wrong way and this is never more true than when teacher Mr Wiggis (Gregory Cox) or traditional school bully Slug (Warren Brian) are concerned.

33. Tricky Business - BBC1 - 1989 to 1991


Magic can capture the attention of children like no other, so it's no surprise that it's been such a popular concept to base children's narratives on. Tricky Business took this concept and ran with it through three series which were transmitted as part of the Children's BBC afternoon slot on BBC1. Written by several writers including Jim Bywater, David Till and Colin Bennett, Tricky Business comprised 27 episodes. Paul Zenon, who also appeared in Tricky Business, acted as the magic advisor for the series.

The first series of Tricky Business concerns the activities of Mr Breeze (John Quayle) and Mrs Breeze (Una Stubbs) as they run not just a magic shop, but also plenty of magic lessons for aspiring magicians. Matters change in the second series as Crabtree (Marcus Clarke), Woody (David Wood) and Micky (Paul Zenon) come to the fore as they deal with magical birthday parties, zoo animals and escapology tricks. The third, and final, series centres around Bernie Clifton who has inherited an old theatre from his Aunt Agnes where he encounters unusual plants and is literally stretched to his limits.

34. Grandad - BBC1 - 1979 to 1984


Inspired, to some degree, by Clive Dunn's 1971 number one single of the same name, Grandad was a sitcom written by Bob Block (also the man behind Rentaghost) and one which amassed 21 episodes over the four series run. Repeats of the series were last seen on TV in 1991 when episodes of Grandad made up part of the schedule of Saturday morning children's show The 8.15 from Manchester (along with Rentaghost). Although it would seem like a logical move, the theme tune for Grandad was a completely original composition and bore no resemblance to Dunn's 1971 chart topper. Apart from the fact that Dunn sang it.

Working in the local community hall, Charlie 'Grandad' Quick is a bumbling man for whom slapstick makes up the majority of his DNA. Flanked by the long suffering Bert Bamford (James Marcus), Grandad ends up in a series of bizarre adventures which include using homemade wine as rocket fuel, getting spooked by a ghost in the community hall and even has to protect his seemingly worthless umbrella from a pair of thieves. Most well known to British audiences as Lance Corporal Jones from Dad's Army, Grandad represents a fine showcase of Dunn's comedic skills.

35. First Post - ITV - 1983 to 1985


Children should always be allowed to express their opinion, it's an essential communication skill even if it's "I'M BOOOOOOOOOOORED!" and, with the advent of the First Post, children suddenly had an outlet for their views on television. Very much a Points of View for the under 12s, First Post was hosted for the majority of its four series run by the lovely Sue Robbie - Adam Sutherland and Ted Robbins stood in for Robbie during series four. The series was produced by Granada and featured a wonderful Moog led theme tune.

Typical episodes feature children's letters (and their accompanying voices) discussing shows such as Blockbusters, Give us a Clue and Wind in the Willows (it's better than Dramarama apparently). There's also time for Sue Robbie to go on tour and discuss featured shows with local children, so Robbie heads to locations such as Lanercost Priory, Cumbria or some Newmarket stables to discuss, for example, why Britain needs more Bob Holness. Magazine style features also lead to Sue Robbie interviewing young cartoonist of the year Malcolm Little or catching up with Julian Cope.

36. Earthfasts - BBC1 - 1994


Life for a teenager is tough enough what with the perils of acne and worrying about whether your latest trainers will secure you respect from your peers, so it must be doubly frustrating to also be dealing with bizarre shifts in time and giant stone men stealing pigs. It may sound ridiculous but these are the hardships awaiting within Earthfasts. Based on the William Mayne novel of the same name, Earthfasts was a five episode serial which ran as part of Children's BBC in early 1994 and was adapted for television and directed by the legendary Marilyn Fox.

Keith (Chris Downs) and David (Paul Nicholls) are a couple of teenage boys who suddenly find their whole world flipped upside down when they encounter Nellie Jack Jon (Bryan Dick), an 18th century drummer boy, emerging from the rocks making up the hilly landscape. Carrying a mysterious candle which remains alight yet curiously cold, Nellie Jack Jon is convinced that it was the 1700s not five minutes ago. Can Keith and David discover the mystery of the candle and prevent Arthurian legends getting a little too close for comfort before its too late?

Earthfasts may not be perfect - at times the narrative gets a little too twisted up on its own mythology - but the foundations are firm and the fantastic performances from the young cast make for a truly unsettling look at teenage displacement. Crowned by Marilyn Fox's skilled direction and Ilona Sekacz's suitably spooky soundtrack, Earthfasts is one of the hidden gems of British children's TV.

37. Kellyvision - ITV - 1988


Chris Kelly is well known for his in-depth investigations of the world behind the movies in Granada's exhaustive look at cinema, Clapperboard, but in Kellyvision he's tackling the mechanics behind the small screen. Produced by Tyne Tees, Kellyvision ran for one series with a total of nine episodes going out in 1988.

Along with Gaz Top, Kelly looks at exactly how all those televised broadcasts make their way to screen and, crucially, are transmitted. Investigating outside broadcasts such as live athletics and looking at the magic behind Knightmare's innovative production, Kelly and Top (with an exceptional mullet) help children understand television like never before with plenty of detailed, yet accessible insights.  

38. Heads and Tails - BBC1 - 1977 to 1979


Heads and Tails came from the brainbox of Michael Cole who devised some of the finest children's TV shows throughout the 1970s and 80s such as Bod, Fingerbobs and Pigeon Street. And, with, Heads and Tails, Cole wanted to help educate children about the animals populating planet Earth all with a wonderful soundtrack provided by Derek Griffiths - a Heads and Tails record was eventually released to tie in with the series. Two series (both with 13 episodes) aired in the lunchtime children's slot on BBC1 and Heads and Tails was repeated up until 1987.

The frenetic theme tune of Heads and Tails kicks episodes off before Derek Griffiths begins narrating and these episodes as we visit animals as diverse as dogs, proboscis monkeys and penguins. Whilst songs feature heavily throughout the series such as a jazzy little number about beetles scurrying across the desert, there's also time for Griffiths to create imaginary conversations between animals such as a crowded rock face of penguins all arguing with each other about not having enough room.

Both Michael Cole and Derek Griffiths are seen as legends of British children's TV, but whilst they certainly worked on more iconic and well remembered shows, Heads and Tails is packed full of delights which can't fail to put a smile on your face.

39. Hold Tight - ITV - 1982 to 1987


Alton Towers + 80s popstars + Bob Carolgees = What exactly? You may be excused for thinking that it's a mathematical problem with no solution, but there is one and it's Hold Tight! a Granada production for ITV which managed six curious series throughout the 1980s. Bob Carolgees wasn't the only presenter to feature throughout the run with Pauline Black (of The Selecter), Sue Robbie, Barbara Wilde and even Frank Carson helping out.

Episodes are an intriguing combination of music and quiz show, although the final series concentrates purely on music. Filmed, of course, at Alton Towers, the main centrepiece of the first five series is the huge snakes and ladders board where rival schools have to navigate their way through 19 squares of questions based upon potential answers formed from letters picked off a rack. A huge roster of popstars are on offer to perform within the grounds of Alton Towers and a select few include Bad Manners (who provided the theme tune for the first five series), the B-52s, Madness, The Damned and Shakin' Stevens.

40. Sam on Boffs' Island - BBC1 - 1972


An incredibly early role for Tony Robinson (years before his knighthood), Sam on Boffs' Island was an educational programme aimed at improving reading levels in the under 8s. 20 episodes were produced and helped make up part of the BBC educational strand Words and Pictures. Michael Rosen (who also presented WALRUS, another BBC Schools programme) provided the scripts and the stop motion animation on offer was provided by the talented chaps over at SmallFilms.

Sam (Tony Robinson) suddenly finds himself transported - midway through eating his breakfast - to Boffs' Island. The Boffs are tiny little guys who thrive upon the existence and enjoyment of words and letters. In particular, they're very keen on feeding the letters produced by their 'say-birds' into a shopping machine which can then produce food and anything the Boffs need that start with those letters. Throughout the series, words and phrases light up on screen to encourage the viewers to tackle phonics head on.

41. Let's Pretend - ITV - 1981 to 1989


As ATV came to an end, so did one of its flagship children's shows, Pipkins. However, it didn't take long for Michael Jeans to formulate a new show and, along with Pipkins writer Gail Renard, the result was Let's Pretend which consisted of just over 200 lunchtime episodes produced by Central Television and transmitted on ITV.

Let's Pretend's aim is to stimulate the imagination of young children and calls on nothing but a few props and, well, an imagination. Taking control of these elements are the pretenders (far too many to list, but including John Telfer, Tessa Hatts and Chris Hazell) who use a mixture of songs and acting to put together short plays which demonstrate the endless possibilities of your imagination. Choice episodes find thirsty magicians on a quest for orange juice and upper class twits getting stranded on a desert island.

42. Zokko! - BBC1 - 1968 to 1970


Perhaps the earliest and most definite forerunner to the Saturday morning children's TV extravaganzas we came to know and love, Zokko! was produced by Molly Cox and Paul Ciani and aired on Saturday lunchtimes over two 13 episode series on BBC1. The first series had one repeat showing, but the second series only ever aired once. Only two of the 26 transmitted episodes still remain in the archives.

Both series of Zokko! mix animations such asclips from Fantasia or in house BBC animations where bouffant haired chaps tell incredibly corny gags. Specially shot music videos are also a crucial part of Zokko!, so we get treated to visual interpretations of contemporary pop songs such as Finchley Central by The New Vaudeville Band and special guests appear in the studio each week to perform a spectacle for the viewers be it Ali Bongo and his magic or The Tumblairs and their amazing trampoline.

The one key difference between the two series is that series one features a talking pinball machine which launches a pinball and, when it strikes a score, this is read out to indicate a particular feature e.g. "Zokko! Six" before launching into the sci-fi serial Skayn which featured across both series. The second series drops the pinball machine and, instead, features a series of huge, bubbling liquid filled tubes.

How many of these shows can you remember? And which other children's shows do you think need a little more recognition and love? Let me know in the comments below!

If you've never managed to succumb to the beauty of the Johnny Jarvis theme tune then there's a good chance that you're either stone deaf or beyond any sense of known help. And not only is the Johnny Jarvis theme tune an incessant earworm which refuses to evacuate your auditory system, but it also heralds the start of one of the finest British television dramas.


Written by Gary Shail - who also contributes an acting role to Johnny Jarvis in the shape of Guy Raines - the Johnny Jarvis theme tune has, unfortunately, remained buried deep within the early 1980s thanks to a lack of repeats or commercial releases. However, Network DVD have finally seen sense and released Johnny Jarvisnearly 35 years after it aired on BBC1, so Shail's theme tune lives once more.

Now, I'm a huge fan of Johnny Jarvis thanks to its remarkable combination of Thatcher's Britain, dashed dreams and youth culture, so I wanted to do something to celebrate the release of the DVD. I'd already reviewed Johnny Jarvis in one of the very first blogs on Curious British Telly, so what could I write about instead? Well, everyone who's ever watched the series always remarks on the magnificent theme tune - all woodwind, guitar and haunting melodies - so I got in touch with the man behind the music, Gary Shail, for a quick chat about its construction.


Shail became involved with the project thanks to his appearance in 'Class Enemy' at the Oxford Playhouse which just happened to be written by Johnny Jarvis writer Nigel Williams. And, as Shail explains, it was a fine relationship which helped to secure his place both on the music and acting side of things:

"When the Johnny Jarvis project was announced, my agent at that time thought it would be a good idea to go along to meet him and Alan Dossor the director. Once I was there, at the old BBC complex in White City, I was asked to read for the part of Manning but after a brief while it became clear to all of us that I definitely wasn’t right for the part! We stopped the audition and just started chatting over a cup of tea. 

I had a band at that time with a couple of fellow actors including Joe McGann, and Nigel had seen us play at a private function somewhere. I was very into creating and producing music at that time and was very enthusiastic to say the least. Alan Dossor also started to get enthusiastic saying that there was the part of an immoral, nihilistic borderline psychotic character called Guy Raines who forms a rock band with the other main character Alan Lipton, and would I read that part instead"

And it was an early lyric that Nigel Williams had written which helped to provide the initial spark for the theme tune as Shail remembers:

"The first song I wrote was simply called ‘Johnny Jarvis’ and the first lyric that Nigel had given me was “Johnny gets a gyro Monday morning, Johnny gets a government cheque”. As a lead vocal line, this would also work with any instrumentation I figured. I wanted the song to have an undercurrent feeling of despair, but with a shining light at the end of the tunnel, so the tune splits between major and minor chords which works great I think!"

Recording the theme tune, however, did require a little bit of outside help and, luckily, Shail was paired up with a producer who could bring the best out of his music and also lend the theme some of its most endearing moments:

"As I don’t read or write music in the traditional way, the producer Guy Slater suggested I have a musical director to write down and transpose on to paper what was just flowing out of my psychotic head. So one fine morning a chap called John Altman arrived at my little one bedroomed attic West Hampstead flat, sat on my wickerwork sofa, and started writing the dots as I played him my compositions. 

You have to remember that I was absolutely confident of nailing this, as I knew that I’d been given the chance of a lifetime. Any doubts whatsoever were irrelevant and surplus to my creativity I felt. Had I actually known who the fuck John Altman was though, I think I might have given up. He’d worked with some of the biggest musical names in the world. From pop music, Jazz, reggae, rock and film scores, John had done it all. All I can say is thank fuck I didn’t know. I even told him that I would be playing the bass guitar on all the songs once we got into the studio to record them! He could’ve got bloody Stanley Clarke if he’d wanted too!

All credit for the eventual theme music arrangement must go to John Altman, and his use of flute and guitar played by Andy Findon and Mitch Dalton is sublime I think. All the songs were recorded at Ad-vision Studios in central London, and for me, it was like a dream come true! Hearing your compositions literally coming to life, played by some of the top session musicians in the world ranks very high in my best time ever book! And yes...I DID PLAY THE BASS!"

Shail, of course, also acted in the series in a prominent role, so I was intrigued to know how the creative approach to acting in Johnny Jarvis differed to the creativity required to compose the theme tune; Shail reveals it was a piece of cake:

"Being in Johnny Jarvis as just an actor was easy by comparison to tell you the truth. When you have a director like Alan Dossor at the helm it’s easy. Working with Mark Farmer Ian Sears and the rest of the brilliant cast was an utter joy from start to finish and everybody knew that we were creating something a bit special. It’s just a shame that it took nearly 35 years for the rest of the world to catch up! The first episode of Johnny Jarvis was aired on the 10th November 1983 on my 24th birthday."

November 1983, however, is a long time ago, so how does Shail feel when he hears the theme tune three and a half decades later?

"It’s hard to say what I feel When I hear the theme from Johnny now. I suppose it’s a mixture of feelings. Pride in a job well done, the memories of the people who made it happen, especially Mark Farmer who is no longer here to eventually see the release of the show on DVD after so many years. What a fantastic character he created in Johnny. But I suppose at the end of the day, it’s just wonderful to know that something memorable was created from that incredibly brave decision by Alan Dossor, over a cup of tea at the BBC. Thank fuck I wasn’t right for Manning eh!"

Gary Shail is still acting, producing, directing, writing and helping out retro television blogs - he can be found over on Twitter as @GaryShail

The Manchester United team of the mid to late 1960s was a stupendous collection of talents, personalities and, most importantly, winners. Their highpoint, of course, came in 1968 when they Benfica to become the first English team to win the European Cup (Celtic had taken the accolade of first British club to win the competition the previous season). 10 years on from the Munich air disaster, it was the culmination of an unenviable rebuilding process helmed by Matt Busby which sought to yield the ultimate fruit. And yield it did.

With a rich vein of youth and experience running through the team, along with the otherworldly talent of George Best, the 1968 victory should have signalled the beginning of an imperial period, but it didn't quite work out. In fact, for the next 25 years - the odd domestic cup aside - there would be little to celebrate. In 1991, however, Alex Ferguson's Manchester United restored pride in English football's European endeavours by winning the Cup Winner's Cup after the five year ban on English clubs in Europe following the Heysel disaster was lifted.

And, two years later, the holy grail of a top flight title came as Giggs, Cantona, Hughes et al delivered a brand of football almost as thrilling as George Best's hair ruffling in the wind. Crucially, it meant they would be re-entering the Champion's League née European cup 25 years after their last appearance in the competition. It was the perfect time to look back and reminisce about the glory days of 1968, so the original team, along with Sir Matt Busby, soon found themselves Re-United.

Genre: Sports / Documentary
Channel: BBC2
Transmission: 07/06/1993

Produced by Chrysalis, Re-United is a one off documentary looking back at Manchester United's European cup run in the 1967/68 season. Written by the legendary and long serving sports writer Patrick Collins, the documentary brings the pulse raising team of 1968 back together at Wembley to relive that crazy night.Starting the documentary on the rather spacious team coach - lent to them by the 1993 Manchester United team - the squad head to Wembley and reminisce about the games and events that led them to victory.



Being a huge Man Utd fan, I was cock a hoop to find this documentary tucked away on an old VHS tape which, coincidentally, I had collected from Manchester. As you can tell from the last few years of Curious British Telly, I thrive upon the history of subjects I love and Re-United had me salivating at the potential insights on offer. And then I discovered that the narration was being provided by none other than Ian McShane, a man who was not only Lovejoy, but also a massive Man Utd fan.


The story of the 1968 Manchester United team has been told countless times before, but, much like England's 1966 World Cup win, it's one of those stories which fails to loses any of its lustre no matter how many times you hear it. Sure, if you're completely blinded by the rather reductive tribalism of football, you may view 1968 story as unimportant, but if you've got an ounce of sense between your ears you'll nod sagely in approval at it.

Key to the whole story is Matt Busby, one of the connecting links - along with Bobby Charlton and Bill Foulkes - from Munich 1958 to Wembley 1968. Busby was 83 when Re-United was filmed, so his speaking role onscreen is limited to just a few words, but his presence is far from understated. The players clearly still adore him and talk passionately about how they were playing for Busby and wanted to win the cup for him. Sadly, little more than 6 months after Re-United aired, Busby had passed away.


Re-United, then, gives Busby one last chance to reunite with his squad at the scene of their most famous triumph. And, with hindsight, one of the most poignant images in the documentary is of George Best and Busby walking off the Wembley pitch together deep in conversation like father and son. Best, one of the finest players in the world in '68, is on fine form with that trademark twinkle in his eye as he dismisses his tag as a wasted talent by putting forward the '68 win as proof that his promise was fulfilled.


All the players insights, of course, add to the story with Bill Foulkes being a particularly strong storyteller when it comes to that magical cup run along with Bobby Charlton. There's a striking dichotomy between the black and white footage of these young, athletic men and the modern day footage of these middle aged men returning to their former stomping grounds. Naturally, we all grow old and it's a fate awaiting us all, but some of us - in particular footballers who were at the top of their game - come packed full of amazing stories. And that's exactly what Re-United delivers.


Alex Stepney recalls the moment he came face to face to with a fearsome shot from Eusebio, Pat Crerand describes the fearsome tackle which kept Mário Coluna quiet and everyone recalls just how important Busby's half time talk at the Bernabéu was in the semi-final. Denis Law, meanwhile, recalls being injured and missing the game, but celebrating with a crate of McEwans. Although not everyone in the team was a Mancunian, it's pleasing to hear just so many rich Manchester accents reminiscing, an indicator that, despite Manchester United's continued dedication to local youth, this is from a very different era of football.


And it's a very different landscape in terms of TV documentaries. Whereas, today, you would have the much missed twin towers of Wembley reflecting off of Nobby Stiles glasses and closeups of George Best's youthful 1968 face slowly segueing into his rounded, more weathered cheekbones of 1993, Re-United is visually very basic. There's a nice section where the reunited team depart the team coach in the exact same order that Kenneth Wolstenholme's 1968 commentary introduced the team, but it wasn't really until the following year's An Impossible Job featuring Graham Taylor that British football documentaries started getting all Laurie Cunningham. Nonetheless, Re-United has enough on pitch flair to make up for shortcomings in production which, quite frankly, only become apparent in hindsight.


Following Manchester United's re-entry into Europe's top competition in the 1993 - 94 season, they've recaptured the Champion's League title twice more and provided plenty of thrills along the way. The original triumph, much like all narratives, remains the most complete and pleasing and, nearly half a century later, defines exactly what Manchester United is all about.

Today's very special and festive blog is courtesy of Jonathan Hayward, a friend of Curious British Telly and a man responsible for many of the VHS recoveries on the YouTube page.

The above date has been thought of by a number of writers and commentators as the day, or perhaps more accurately, the evening when populist but universally accessible broadcasting reached its most dominant apex. Starting with Bruce Forsyth and The Generation Game, followed by The Mike Yarwood Christmas Show and climaxing with The Morecambe and Wise Christmas Show, the latter reaching viewing figures quoted as 27 million or even slightly higher at 28.835 million.

Now, 40 years since it was broadcast, it seems an appropriate time to look back at a day which has gone down in television history. And this is a sentiment which is certainly not unique, Graham McCann, waxing lyrical in his 1998 biography of Morecambe and Wise, stated:

“It happened one night, at 8.55 pm, more than half the total population of the United Kingdom tuned their television sets to BBC 1 and spent the next hour and ten minutes in the company of a rather tall man called Eric and a rather short man called Ernie.

It was a rather extraordinary night for British television in general and the BBC in particular: 28,835,000 viewers for a single show. [it] appeared at a time when it was still considered desirable, as well as practicable, to make a television programme that might - just might - excite most of the people most of the time.

Not every programme-maker and performer from this time was particularly well equipped or strongly inclined to pursue such a possibility, but Morecambe and Wise, working in close collaboration with the BBC, most certainly were”

McCann’s observations, nearly two decades on, certainly have a point about British TV’s days as a communal experience having long since disappeared, dissolving now into a labyrinth of fragmented, desultory, deregulated and repetitive multi-channels; as if to confirm such nostalgic yearnings,the viewing figures for the most watched shows in Christmas 2016 on mainstream TV were the lowest since such records began, with the most popular programme - Call The Midwife - topping the ratings at 9.2 million, followed by sitcom Mrs Brown’s Boys at 9 million and Strictly Come Dancing at 8.9 million.


Combining the total viewing figures for the top three shows last Christmas is still over a million viewers behind the highest estimate of Eric and Ernie’s programme of four decades earlier, when the UK population was smaller,with a choice of just three channels and not the hundreds of today, in the pre-digital, pre-internet and even pre-home video age,with VHS/Betamax recorders still several years away from wide availability.

When it was time for a prestigious,peak-time TV show with the nation’s most loved comedians, there were no options of recording it all to watch later if you were still busy enjoying Christmas festivities with family and friends.You merely had two choices; you watched it with said family and friends, or, rather surprisingly, considering the comic duo’s immense hold on the British public’s affections in the 70’s, you would deliberately miss it, perhaps because you were in the silent minority that did not find them funny.

However, in recent years there have been more revisionist and less hagiographic attitudes to this apparent epochal moment in British broadcasting history. The much-quoted viewing figures of 27-28 million are now disputed, with newer research claiming that the actual number that watched the show were around 6-7 million less at about 21 million. And there are further claims that the show broadcast immediately before it, starring impressionist Mike Yarwood, actually had a slightly larger figure,with 100,000 viewers either switching over to ITV, or just switching their set off all together when it was time for Eric and Ernie’s Christmas extravaganza.


Social historian Joe Moran,who wrote his own personal observations of the medium in his book Armchair Nation in 2013, is certainly more sober-minded in pointing out such revisions, along with observing that Morecambe and Wise were “not universally or uncritically loved” and  “watched today, the show does not seem a classic” and, rather grudgingly, praises them as merely “fitfully funny”, although acknowledging that the 1977 show “has entered British folklore as the culmination of television’s potential to bring the extended national family together”.

Moran is not alone in his cautious, less reverent attitude to Eric and Ernie. Before it went defunct, Sam Brady, real name Steve Regan, the resident TV critic of the ITV teletext service ORACLE (and still an occasional online blogger on TV matters), once said that he didn’t find them that funny, accusing them of being "too clean and guileless”. TV critic A.A Gill, meanwhile, said that it reminded him of:

“How low our entertainment needs used to be, how simple Christmas was. There was a time when half the country watched [their] Christmas special, and you wonder what excuse the other half came up with. Morecambe and Wise was the best on offer, and we were grateful, but it was thin pickings”

From my own viewpoint, will my own memories and opinions be marred by uncritical adulation drenched in wistful nostalgia or the more dispassionate and cynical musings of Moran and other contemporary critics and commentators? Truthfully, it is a carefully balanced mixture of both. There is more joy looking back on that particular Christmas Day as perhaps the last truly happy family Christmas I experienced with my parents and grandparents, all sadly now passed away. The following year, my grandfather was diagnosed with cancer and died in 1980, with my grandmother following two years after that.


As a wide-eyed 11 year-old still at primary school, it was a very happy Christmas family gathering, taking little notice of TV in the morning and afternoon, except for an unusually long ITV advert which featured a brass band playing several tunes, a fact little quoted from that notable day in TV history. The advert itself went on around 10 minutes, making it the longest advert ever broadcast on commercial TV. When it came to my grandparents leaving for their home in the early evening (driven back by my father), after the familiar traditions of opening presents and Christmas dinner, it was now a matter of waiting for the main event of the day perhaps, Morecambe and Wise’s Christmas show, which was now as major a tradition as Christmas itself.

Yet the programmes that preceded it should not be ignored as mere afterthoughts; the Radio Times Christmas edition of 1977 had an entire page of its own devoted to images of Forsyth, Yarwood, Morecambeand Wise for that evening’s schedule. I have to confess I remember virtually nothing from Forsyth and Yarwood’s shows, perhaps because I wasn’t giving them my full attention as it was Eric and Ernie’s show I was truly waiting for - ready to be typically awe-struck at their comic genius,as people of all ages presumably were around the nation that Christmas night.


What I can very vaguely remember is that they were entertaining and amusing, building us all up for the big occasion, like a cinema programme of shorts, newsreels and second features, before the big budget 'A picture' with even bigger stars.

When it came to 8.55pm, there was an atypical opening; no conventional title sequence but Eric and Ernie’s parody of the title sequence of the US Cop show Starsky and Hutch, then followed by titles and their standard opening crosstalk. This was interspersed with Elton John being given messages by various guest stars such as the main cast of Dad’s Army, Angela Rippon dancing again as she had the previous year, this time as a Tiller girl type, a sketch where they up sticks and move from their flat and, amongst the rest, a version of “Cyrano de Bergerac” featuring Penelope Keith as Roxanne.

The end titles were followed by Elton John singing a song from his latest album, not to a full audience who had now gone home, but two middle aged female cleaners, played by Eric and Ernie, with a final pay-off from Angela Rippon. Staying up after 10pm was a bit much for an 11 year old, and I was soon whisked to bed, the last Christmas day as a young child in the latter days at primary school. I was amused and entertained as my parents had been, helped perhaps by the happy day we had all had as a family.


So, as a hardened, middle-aged man four decades on, did I feel that Joe Moran’s assessment that this show was far from a classic a statement that was fair rather than malicious? Well, it wasn’t as good as the 1971 Christmas Show - featuring Shirley Bassey in heavy work boots or Andre Previn vainly trying to conduct Grieg’s Piano Concerto, maybe the best sketch they ever did - or that of 1975 which featured their nemesis Des O’Connor or even the previous year, featuring among others John Thaw and Dennis Waterman from The Sweeney as guest stars and a memorable parody of Gene Kelly’s dance routine from Singin’ In The Rain.

It has been since documented that the pressure on the duo, their writer Eddie Braben and all others working on the programme had to make the new Christmas show better than the one before and it was now somewhat taking its toll. There had been no Morecambe and Wise series in 1977; Braben had a breakdown a year or two before and had to take time off writing to recuperate (he did not write the previous year’s Christmas show), with the strain also affecting Eric Morecambe in particular. He was not happy with the “Nothing Like a Dame” dance routine, only eventually coming round when he watched a preview with producer Ernest Maxin.


Perhaps this is why the show has an undercurrent of melancholy for some of its running time, particularly in the sketch when they are moving home,which gave an impression that times were changing and an era was coming to a close.This was oddly prescient, not just for Morecambe and Wise but maybe for British TV and comedy as a whole. The brief cameos featuring the Dad’s Army cast, such as Arthur Lowe, John Le Mesurier and John Laurie, are poignant as it was the last time they would appear together on screen in character (curiously here featured in a sauna handing Elton John a message,which seems a mild piece of surrealism) as the sitcom had ended a few months earlier.

Just one month later, Morecambe and Wise left the BBC and signed a new contract with Thames TV, as it was with Bruce Forsyth when he also departed around the same time for Thames’ sister company London Weekend Television. Mike Yarwood stayed put for now, but joined ITV a few years later.


25th December 1977 perhaps truly indicated the end of an era in both British TV entertainment and comedy in particular. The first stirrings of Alternative Comedy were just around the corner with Not The Nine o’Clock News and its new approach to political correctness too. The Black and White Minstrel Show was taken off the air the following year and is now looked on as an embarrassing anachronism, but other traditional variety type formats such as Seaside Special were also beginning to fade at this point, alongside traditional mainstream comedians like Morecambe and Wise.

Eric suffered a second heart attack in 1979 (after his previous one in 1968), and it is generally agreed, went into steady decline with his partner Ernie. The shows at Thames weren’t particularly bad, but they relied more on reworkings of sketches from their best BBC days, and even occasionally from the ITC shows of the 60’s. It was inevitable also that Eric’s health began to affect proceedings, with the pacing not as quick as before and Eric’s comic timing not as sharp. The ‘Carry On’ film series limped to an unlamented end in 1978; contemparies such as Tommy Cooper and Dick Emery were also being afflicted by declining health and passed away in the early 80’s as Eric did.


Old-style sitcoms and comedians like Benny Hill with non-PC, racist and sexist connotations were now looking hopelessly outdated as brash, younger former public schoolboys and university graduates were providing a newer, fresher, if sometimes controversial outlook towards humour, more political, satirical and mordant, especially with Margaret Thatcher becoming the dominant political figure.

The old guard of variety and music hall performers like Morecambe, Wise, Hill, Cooper, Les Dawson and others were inevitably aging and declining whereas youthful comic performers like Ben Elton, Rik Mayall, Griff Rhys Jones, Rowan Atkinson, Mel Smith, Stephen Fry and Hugh Laurie provided, quite literally, an alternative comedy. Mike Yarwood himself could not keep up with the times as his range of impressions failed to keep pace with programmes such as Spitting Image. And with him being a gentle mickey-taker rather than a political satirist, Yarwood too went into a professional and personal decline in evolving times.

Christmas Day 1977 was perhaps a truly an important day for British Television, not especially for the now disputed viewing figures, but the last hurrah for traditional British humour and entertainment which, in the end, had inevitably to change with the prevailing culture and political climate. If one has to make a critical evaluation of Morecambe and Wise’s 1977 Christmas show, it is that perhaps it wasn’t quite a classic,but very nearly as it was consistently funny and occasionally hilarious. This year, though, there was a touch of pathos, reflection and poignancy as it was both a coda for times that were passing and a transition into what was about to come.


It perhaps features the most risqué gag Morecambe and Wise ever did, with a brief reference to a porn movie and even the sight of a young female’s bare behind, maybe a touchstone for the reduction in implicitness and innuendo that was to emerge with alternative comedy, but an amusing if not slightly touching rendition of a song featuring Eric, Ernie and Penelope Keith towards the end of the Cyrano de Bergerac sketch about love and the challenges it faces with the advancement of age.

So, yes, it was truly an important day in British television history and the end of an era on 25th December 1977 for all kinds of reasons. And not forgetting, Charlie Chaplin passed away that same day too.

I worked out the other day that I must have worked my way through close to 1,000 VHS tapes throughout 2017 in search of interesting nuggets of British TV. Obviously, I don't scan every single millisecond of the tapes as that would be ridiculously time consuming, so the fast forward button helps me skip through the late 1980s editions of Blind Date and get to the interesting bits like ad breaks and whatever followed when the tape was left running.

It's an endeavour that I'm planning to continue next year even though it can sometimes drive me mad. Earlier on in the year I picked up close to 150 tapes in one go and about 98% of the tapes had what can only be described as mid to late 1990s drivel on. And it was almost all recorded in Long Play, so the quality was abysmal. However, I've also picked up some collections of tapes which had had a much higher 'find' ratio, so I guess you have to take the rough with the smooth.


One plan for 2018 is to invest in a Betamax player, so I can start going through these 'curiously smaller than VHS' tapes. And, in fact, I've already picked up a collection of about 25 Betamax tapes (see above). Unfortunately, a fully working and refurbished Betamax player is around £250 to £300 so this may take some saving. If anyone wants to help donate towards the purchase of a Betamax player then get in touch and if the funds are raised then I'll sort out some perks such as DVD copies of found material. I did look into doing a Kickstarter, but the copyright infringements meant they couldn't host it.

For now, I'm pushing forwards with VHS exploration - as ever, I'm always looking for tapes from the 1980s you may have knocking about - as I've found some interesting bits and pieces this year (and some missing material which has been forwarded onto Kaleidoscope such as HTV in-vision continuity and episodes of Granada Reports). Anyway, here's my latest lot of finds since the last update! Enjoy!

05/01/1987 - Day Out (Symonds Yat) - BBC1



Airing on BBC1 throughout the 1970s and 80s, Day Out centred upon potential days out the Great British public could take - with an emphasis on the Midlands and South West. This particular episode, from towards the end of the series' run, finds Angela Rippon heading to Symonds Yat to experience the delightful attractions and activities on offer.

10/10/1983 Minder and its Audience - ITV Schools



I picked up a box of tapes several weeks ago which contained seemingly endless editions of Lovejoy and The Antiques Road Show which, whilst lovely slices of British TV, aren't exactly what I'm looking for. Thankfully, in amongst these tapes were a number of tapes which had come from a secondary school and contained many early to mid 80s schools programmes.

There was an emphasis on media studies programmes and this episode looking at Minder and it's demographic was probably the most interesting one. It may also be missing from the Thames archive (or at the very least, mislabelled) so this has also been sent to Kaleidoscope for posterity. All of the tapes appear to be second generation copies, so the quality isn't as sharp as I would like but it's more than watchable.

20/09/1989 - Storytime and News/Continuity - BBC2



It's always good to find a TV show which contains the surrounding continuity to get a real flavour of that day's viewing experience, but when you get the news included as well it's an amazing time capsule. And that's exactly what I found squirreled away on a Fuji tape. So, not only is there an episode of Storytime, but we also get the day's news with Jilly Carter and the weather with Michael Fish. What more could you want? A winning lottery ticket? Well, maybe.

25/05/1988 - Worlds Beyond (Home) - ITV



Nestling at the very end of a tape, I found that the owner of this particular tape had left their VCR recording after a film had finished (one of the best sources for finding strange snippets of TV) and inadvertently recorded this episode of supernatural/horror anthology series Worlds Beyond.

As ever, there was a slight hint of nervousness as I fast forwarded through the episode - titled 'Home' as it was getting close to the end of the tape and there's nothing worse than ending up with a partial episode. Thankfully it was all there with a few seconds to spare, so here it is nearly 30 years after it last aired. Complete with Thames in-vision continuity, which is always a bonus!

14/03/1985 - Mooncat & Co (Missing You) - ITV



There's precious little footage of Mooncat's two series Get Up and Go! and Mooncat & Co online, but thankfully I've been able to boost the available footage with this episode from the final series of Mooncat & Co. It's a rather plaintive and poignant episode which finds Mooncat lamenting his mate Stephen who has departed the series (yet remains in the opening credits), but still remains a fantastic example of just how good Mooncat was. If anyone else has Mooncat footage then please get in touch!

13/04/1984 - Weekend - ITV (Partial)



Weekend - which was only ever broadcast in the Granada region - was presented by Paul Jones (yes, he of Manfred Mann fame) and took a look at the upcoming attractions in the region such as exhibitions, new films at the cinema etc. This particular episode featured interviews with Adam Faith and Frankie Howerd, but sadly the clip I found was only six minutes long. Still, it's a nice look at a rarely seen TV show.

Whatever You Want is thrilling, agitated, rock and roll, hilarious and out to prove a point. It's the kind of television that the British youth had been waiting for in 1982, a soapbox for them to investigate and discuss the issues affecting a Britain gripped by unemployment figures tipping over the three million mark. With an acerbic brand of journalism forming the show's background, it's presented by the unpredictable, forthright stylings of Keith Allen. Whatever You Want is also a disjointed melange of viewpoints, moods and styles.

Genre: Youth / Current Affairs
Channel: Channel 4
Transmission: 08/11/1982 - 28/03/1983

Whatever You Want is a youth magazine show fronted by Keith Allen which looks to engage with the ideals of the early 1980s British youth. Presented from Brixton's ACE music venue, Whatever You Want investigates a number of pressing, contemporary issues such as teenage prostitution, the escapist route of sport, trade unions, apartheid and the army. Allen takes the helm for the majority of these features which include dramatisations - the teenage prostitution one features a young Gwyneth Strong - poetry and discussions, but young viewers are also tasked with creating films based on the subjects being explored.


Seeing as its based at the ACE, Whatever You Want is the perfect platform to showcase live music as well. And that's why we're treated to the myriad sounds making up the music scene at the start of the 1980s, so bands appearing include The Dead Kennedys (Allen stagedives during one of their songs), Orange Juice, The Redskins, Killing Joke and The Thompson Twins. Finalizing the magazine show feel, there are also a number of cartoons and sketches sprinkled throughout, most notably 'The Bullshitters' which is Peter Richardson and Allen's spoof of The Professionals that, eventually, became a one off special - The Bullshitters: Roll Out The Gunbarrel.

Behind the Anarchy

21 editions of Whatever You Want aired on Monday evenings in the 10pm slot with episodes running to an hour long. The final five episodes of the series were retitled Whatever You Didn't Get and featured live music performances from the ABC and interviews with the bands who had appeared in the series - the opening titles were markedly different and Allen was nowhere to be seen. RPM Productions produced the series for Channel 4 with Madeleine French and Don Coutts acting as producers.


Whilst Whatever You Want was an early vehicle for Keith Allen, it also provided a stepping stone for a pair of gophers in the form of Jonathan Ross and Michael Caton-Jones who certainly went on to earn a few quid in the entertainment world. Unfortunately, for Allen, his bristling dedication to the cause saw him falling out with Channel 4 over the channel's determination to pull a particularly sensitive subject. Allen recalls, in his autobiography Grow Up, that it was at this point that he put a letter in the post to Channel 4 telling them that he resigned and, the same day, received a letter telling him that he was sacked.

Is it Whatever You Want?

I've got a real obsession with the early days of Channel 4 and seeing as Whatever You Want aired within the channel's first week of broadcasting, it was ripe for my curious eyes. More importantly, I was intrigued by the content which promised to serve up a social and cultural time capsule from a time when I was literally a babe in arms. Seeing as babies have absolutely no respect for concepts such as night and day, there's a small chance that I watched Whatever You Want as my poor, sleep deprived mother stayed up all hours rocking me, but I can't remember.

Anyway, Keith Allen is on fine, fine form throughout. There's an engaging nature to his probing, investigative nature throughout the series and, although he tends to remain impartial, his natural tendency is to side with the oppressed - he happily dispenses details of a demonstration to support the oppressed 'residents' of Arlington House at the end of one episode. And his opening intros are a barrel of irreverent laughs too as he takes on the role of a surreal in-vision continuity announcer discussing spoof schedules and introducing that week's Whatever You Want - on one occasion he does this completely nude, but with one leg tastefully crossing the other.


And doesn't he look like Lily Allen here? I had to keep doing double takes as those piercing, meaningful eyes are truly a genetic marvel that they both share. Lily wasn't born until a few years later, but you can see the seeds of her activist leanings running through her father's veins in Whatever You Want.

The themes invest a heavy interest into the issues affecting the British youth at the time and, back in 1982, this provided a rare outlet for such an honest appraisal. Today, of course, there are countless, countless outlets for the youth to talk about the issues affecting them thanks to platforms such as YouTube, Twitter etc. However, this modern freedom - whilst capable of developing essential gems -doesn't half allow an awful lot of codswallop online (see Zoella) and dilutes the importance of that all important youth voice.


In particular, the bleak employment prospects on offer for the under 25s is laid bare as an appalling landscape. Teenagers in Hartlepool are seen dreaming of breaking into the world of professional boxing as their local backdrop consists of nothing but gnarled, dying industries. Young women, unable to make ends meet, are forced into prostitution and its all too common side effect of drug dependency to get through another night at Kings Cross. It's a disturbing present awaiting these young minds, but their potential future looks no better as the rigours of trade union disputes also show how economic hardship gets no easier as you get older.

Moving away from the weekly themes, the live performances are a welcome outlet for the exciting music scene and demonstrate Channel 4's dedication to music, The Tube launched just a few days before Whatever You Want and promised a more energetic and cerebral alternative to the BBC's efforts. And the comedy is clearly enshrined in the alternative comedy scene with The Bullshitters being the best example. Pleasing, though, that the music and comedy are, they're ingredients which don't mix so well with the main issues being explored.


All three components fail to ever truly segue into each other and, as a result, there's a jarring feel as you shift swiftly from a rather harrowing discussion of teenage prostitution into a Bullshitters sketch. For me, it just felt a little disrespectful when, perhaps, Whatever You Want could have flexed its comedy muscle in a more caustic and righteous manner. That's probably the most extreme example featured in the series, but there's an underlying feeling throughout that there are three separate showsunfolding. One section does find Chris Dead - singer from The Redskins - performing with his band and then heading off to talk to a miner in Barnsley about unions, so I think more of these seamless transitions could have bolstered Whatever You Want's message.

Nonetheless, there's plenty on offer within Whatever You Want to titillate the British youth and the opportunities opened by the series for journalistic spins in front of the camera are admirable. It's a series which is indicative of how those early, alternative days of Channel 4 promised so much, but have now descended into disposable, vapid fodder such as The Undateables. The youth seem less politicised these days, but the rise in young voters at the 2017 general election suggest that, maybe, a show such as Whatever You Want could work in a British climate full of uncertainty. And Lily Allen on presenting duties? Hmmm, I may just get on the phone to Channel 4...

When you watch Kazuko's Karaoke Klub you have to wonder exactly what Channel 4 executives were smoking in the late 1980s. Sure, the channel was a much needed beacon for the alternative and the strange and, in a trashy way, this continues with shows such as Naked Attraction. However, whereas Naked Attraction, at the very least, serves up some mild titillation (no, I'm not going to apologise for the pun) that taps into our base instincts, Kazuko's Karaoke Klub is very much the kind of television that leaves you as bewildered as an aging aunt confronted with a new TV remote.

Genre: Chat Show / Music
Channel: Channel 4
Transmission: 25/05/1989 - 13/07/1989

Hosted by Kazuko Hohki of Japanese experimental pop group Frank Chickens, Kazuko's Karaoke Klub was a weekly show which aired on Channel 4 for eight editions on Thursday evenings in the summer of 1989. The series was a bizarre combination of Japanese culture, chat show frivolities and, the section which cements its outrageous curiosity value, karaoke strangeness.


Celebrities appearing are far from the top tier of showbiz and, instead, are more a mixture of B-list (at a push) and C-list celebrities such as Frank Sidebottom, Janice Long, Spike Milligan, John Cooper Clarke, Lynne Perrie and George Wendt. Oh, and there's the Operation Yewtree contingent as well with not just Jonathan King, but also Jimmy Savile appearing on the show.

Now, Kazuko Hohki has a fine command of English (about a million times more linguistic ability than I'll ever have with Japanese), but the depth of questioning here is far from Parkinson or Frost levels. Naturally, the nature of Kazuko's Karaoke Klub hardly demands any sense of intellectual sincerity, but the questions posed here are fairly banal and its left to the celebrities to wax lyrical to fill in the gaps. Frank Sidebottom, as ever, is surreal and brilliant whilst Billy Bragg is on his admirable socialist soapbox, but there's very little to glean from the interviews despite Hohki's cheerful enthusiasm amongst laboured jokes comparing, for example, Manchuria and Manchester.


With the hindsight of everything that's unfolded in British television in the last few years, of course, Jimmy Savile's appearance is perhaps most prescient. His disturbingly blasé boasts of his prowess with women and the accompanying rage of their disgruntled partners truly makes you squirm. He features on an episode with George Wendt and you really find yourself wondering what an American made of this odd, yet cherished national character. In fact, you also wonder what Hohki, with her performance art background, made of Savile who is even more off-kilter than anything Frank Chickens recorded.


Moving back towards the format of Kazuko's Karaoke Klub, the karaoke sections fail to sparkle in any way, shape or form. Spike Milligan 'Spike Milligans' his way through Yesterday, Savile takes on It's a Long Way to the North of England and Janice Long hits the high notes in Leader of the Pack; the chances of anyone ever wanting to see or hear such combinations are zero, absolutely zero. The audience appear to be laughing their behinds off, but they also appear to be completely smashed and that is perhaps the only way that Kazuko's Karaoke Klub could ever be palatable...

Thankfully, Channel 4 only commissioned one series of Kazuko's Karaoke Klub, so I'm hopeful that someone, somewhere thought "We've gone too far this time" before being swiftly sacked but they probably got a promotion such is the unfathomable nature of broadcasting. In conclusion, I'd like to be able to say that Kazuko's Karaoke Klub was the point that Channel 4's 'out there' approach started to outstrip any level of quality, but then I remember that Minipops aired within six months of the channel's birth and perfectly sums up their hit and miss approach to quality.

Netflix is a wonderful marvel of modern entertainment which provides hundreds of thousands of hours worth of visual delights with just a few swipes of a screen. Apparently. I've only used it a few times, so can't really comment on the stranglehold it has over our modern viewing habits.

I do, however, absolutely love the rich history of British TV. I also adore the nostalgic thrill of wading through old VHS tapes to discover the home recordings which may be lurking within. So, why don't I try to combine these two passions? Well, I already do and my Archive Tape Digging articles are testament to this hobby obsession.

However, what I'd really love to do is create something which is a little more communal, so that's why I've dreamt up the Video Tape Swap Club. And, no, it's nothing like Blockbusters. Or even LoveFilm. Instead, the Video Tape Swap Club will provide a curiously analog alternative to Netflix with all the mystery and excitement of a lucky dip down on the village green.

The concept is pretty simple: one member sends in a video tape and, in return, they receive a tape sent in by another member. All you pay for is the postage to send the tape to myself, I will then post the tapes on to the other members at my own cost. In return I'll want a little bit of feedback on the whole process and, more importantly, what you thought of the recordings on the tape, so that I can write an article for the blog.

It's a very, very loose idea at present with no end goal in place, but I'd like to trial one round of swaps with 10 people to see how it plays out. So, if you fancy taking a break from the modern age of television, please read the rules below and get in touch via Twitter or email.

Video Tape Swap Club Rules

1. No porn!

2. All tapes must be recordings from TV from the dawn of home recordings (late 70s) up until 1996 to give a nice retro sheen to the viewing experience.

2. VHS tapes are the default submission format, but if a number of members have Betamax players then Betamax tapes are more than welcome.

3. Video tapes must be at least two hours long to provide a decent evening's entertainment.

4. The tapes must be clean, free from mould and provide a watchable picture (a little fuzz and noise is fine, but no prolonged picture dropouts).

5. At least one hour of the tape must contain complete British TV e.g. two episodes of EastEnders or one episode of Casualty and an episode of Bod. The remainder of the tape can be anything, but no porn!

6. You must be happy to wave goodbye to your tape forever once it's submitted.

7. NO PORN!

Moondial is a children's TV show which may leave you rather baffled as questions with no answers rain down on you like a summer storm, but you can rest assured that this irked puzzlement will take place from behind the sofa. You see, from the cold opening sequence with its cacophony of haunted, otherworldly tones to the creepy Halloween finale, Moondial is real horrorshow. Founding its narrative in a good old fashioned ghost story, Moondial taps into that area of the brain which operates purely on instinct and won't rest until every square inch of your body is covered in goosebumps.

Genre: Children's
Channel: BBC1
Transmission: 10/02/1988 - 16/03/1988

Following the death of her father, Minty (Siri Neal) has been out of sorts and her mother (Joanna Dunham) decides that a change of scenery may help Minty readjust to a world without a paternal figure. Minty soon finds herself travelling to Lincolnshire to liver with her Aunt Mary (Valerie Lush), but the apparently tranquil change of surroundings is soon shattered when Minty's mother is involved in a car crash shortly after dropping Minty off. Precariously balanced between life and death in a coma, Minty's mother presents yet another stressor for Minty's fragile, pubescent state.


Mocked by the local children, Minty finds temporary refuge in the beautiful grounds of Belton House and, in particular, finds herself mysteriously drawn towards a moondial in the gardens. Flanked by statues of Chronos and Eros, this moondial is much more than just a standard timepiece as it's capable of transporting Minty back in time. Minty's first travels take her back to Victorian times where she meets the TB suffering kitchen boy Tom (Tony Sands), but eventually Minty (and Tom) find themselves going back to the 18th century where they come across the troubled Sarah (Helena Avellano).


Blighted by a birthmark which her contemporaries believe is the mark of the devil, Sarah leads a lonely terrified existence where she is hidden away within Belton House under the cruel watch of Miss Vole (Jacqueline Pearce). Determined to save both Sarah and Tom from their unsettled, cheerless existences, Minty sets out to bring peace to their lives. A plan of action which is backed and urged by 'Old' World (Arthur Hewlett), a present day local who is well aware of the ghostly children trapped within Belton House.


Minty documents her trials and tribulations with the past onto a tape recorder as a story that she hopes will rouse her mother from her deep coma. However, Minty's quest has an unexpected obstacle in its way in the form of darkly enigmatic ghost hunter Miss Raven (Jacqueline Pearce), who Minty soon discovers has a disturbing connection to Belton House's ghostly past.

Setting the Moon

Based on the 1987 novel - of the same name - written by Helen Cresswell, Moondial was a six episode series which first aired in 1988 on Wednesday evening's at 5.05pm on BBC1; one repeat of the series came in 1990. Curiously, the series has had several home releases with a 'movie edit' of the series being released on VHS in 1990 and 1995 with a DVD version coming out in 2000. The first episodic release didn't land until 2009 when it had a limited DVD release through Reader's Digest, a much more widely available DVD finally camein 2015.


Helen Cresswell continued the writing duties for the TV adaptation having previously written scripts for The Bagthorpe Saga and The Secret World of Polly Flint. Keen to continue in the world of telefantasy, Cresswell also went on to script Five Children and It, The Return of the Psammead, The Demon Headmaster and The Phoenix and the Carpet. Directing Moondial was Colin Cant who had previously directed the equally spooky The Children of Green Knowe and later found himself in the director's chair for Russell T Davies'early, mysterious offerings of Dark Season and Century Falls.

Dancing in the Moonlight

Moondial certainly made an impression on me as a youngster - I think I probably caught the repeat of the series - and its dark, troubling atmosphere ensured that it was indelibly stamped upon the section of my young memory reservedfor dealing with things that go bump in the night. Admittedly, in the intervening years, I frequently mixed up the narrative with that of Tom's Midnight Garden, but please, people, give me a break as they aired around the same time and both featured characters called Tom. So, I retained a sense of unsettling anxiety whenever I heard mention of the show, but how would I interpret these supernatural goings-ons nearly three decades later?


Well, Moondial instantly harries you into a world of unease with that pre-titles opening which is soundtracked by ominous, rumbling organs and shrieking, ghostly synths which create a terrifyingly discordant racket. As this unearthly symphony unfolds, a young girl in white sets off from a set of church gates, making her way across a moonlit lawn and towards a moondial where she pauses. A light in a grand house at the top of the lawn draws her attention and she hurries towards it. Peering into the window, she's confronted with a ghostly apparition of herself pursued by a lady in black who wrestles her away from the window.

And, dear God, it's true, nightmare inducing territory. It's bewildering, it's unsettling and it terrorises the senses with a thrilling energy and ease. Thankfully, after that (and the titles) we're back in normality to catch our breaths and pray that the opening was nothing more than a traumatic misstep by the director. After all, this is children's TV, right? We don't expect to have such deep-seated fear imprinted on our soul at this age, right? Unfortunately for us, Colin Cant is quite happy to continue fashioning this imprint with a sledgehammer.

The disconcerting feeling of perplexity and displacement soon seeps back into the narrative as Minty is first exposed to the horrific vision of her mother lying on a life support system and then begins her travails into the past. Belton House, of course, is central to the story and it's a fantastic setting, all tremendously British, but at the same time able to conjure up a sense of dread through its imposing stone walls and long, dark history. The moondial, which remains on site, is a nice centrepiece to the story and, again, adds a mystical edge to the proceedings, especially with its connotations of Greek mythology.


Transporting Minty back in time, the moondial brings her face to face with new horrors. Poor Tom is under the cosh of his masters and clearly unwell, coughing up a gruesomely vivid mouthful of blood in one stomach churning scene. Nonetheless, despite his debilitating respiratory problems, he channels an urchin charm, underlined by his unshakeable belief that he'll defy genetics and become a lofty footman. It's Sarah, though, whose young soul is subjected to the most chilling and tortuous scenes, all backed up with not even a grain of hope or childlike naivety.


Initially portrayed as nothing, but a shadowy, cloaked figure pursued by Miss Vole, Sarah's faceless form presents a subtle, thrilling mystery and also sets up a series of disturbing scenes. First, the local children, systematically beat and then burn a mannequin said to represent the 'devil child' and, finally, Sarah is confronted by a young, baying mob who refuse to accept that her birthmark is nothing less than a sign of the cloven hoofed beast. They're all wearing folk horror masks (one of which looks like an even more horrifying version of Noseybonk) and posses a bloodlust unrivalled in children's TV.


Clearly, the visuals in Moondial are strong and sinister, but what of the actual story?

In terms of scope, it's quite terrific as it takes in time travel and the supernatural, two genres which can be exhilarating in their own right, so the promise of greatness is set in the foundations. However, in terms of startling clarity, Moondial fares worse than a moondial on a sun-drenched afternoon. There's a basic thread woven into the narrative that Minty needs to help others be it her unconscious mother or two ghostly children. It's an admirable message and one which is translated loud and clear, but slightly more deafening are the unanswered questions left clogging your consciousness.

The moondial, for example, is the central device from which all the twists and turns of the story and furiously stoked, but do we ever find out how or why it does what it does? Like hell we do! Okay, there's a brief discussion between Minty and World about 'moontime', which attempts to broach the subject but this is sadly smothered by vague notions. And Miss Raven's appearance in the modern day is an exciting twist, but, you know, it fizzles out to nothing. Oh, and where on Earth do Tom, Sarah and Dorry (Tom's sister) go skipping off to? Judging by Minty's discovery of Tom's grave (dated 1871), he didn't lead a long life, so did he succumb to TB and not actually glean much happiness?


It's not all disappointing, of course, Tom and Minty's friendship has moments of joy, the narrative never fails to dawdle and, by the end of the serial, Minty has found redemption and is in a much clearer sense of mind than at the start. And if a hero can't come out stronger and it be considered a success then I don't know what makes a decent yarn. The acting, too, is very strong with all the young actors putting in strong, confident shifts. Jacqueline Pearce, in her dual roles, is wonderfully unhinged, particularly in her 'unveiling of the mirrors scene' which is alarming in its depiction of wickedness.

Sure, Moondial mayfall short in the logic stakes, but its eerie visual magnificence and gripping adventure manages to overcome its flaws and deliver a piece of children's TV which will stick with you through the decades.

If irrefutable proof was ever required that genius is not a guarantee of delivering a hilarious sitcom then Pygmalion Smith is a damning piece of evidence. And Pygmalion Smith is blessed with genius on two fronts: Roy Clarke on writing duties and Leonard Rossiter in front of the camera. Whilst Pygmalion Smith certainly isn’t bad enough to leave you weeping at the waste of talent, it won’t leave you laughing either.

Genre: Comedy
Channel: BBC1
Transmission: 25/06/1974

A 1974 entry into the long-running Comedy Playhouse anthology, Pygmalion Smith finds Pygmalion ‘Smithy’ Smith (Leonard Rossiter) running a low rent photography business out of a wooden shack on a seaside promenade. Convinced that only circumstances are holding him back from becoming the next David Bailey, Smith is searching for the next big thing and believes he’s discovered it in the form of Auriol Pratt (Barbara Courtney) – a statuesque brunette who fillets fish in the grimy fish sheds nearby Smith’s ailing photography firm.


Determined to capture the beauty of a woman he considers “the next Twiggy”, Smith sets about tracking down this enigmatic muse and making her a star – along with pocketing a few quid for himself. Aided by PE teacher and his childhood friend Brewster (T.P. McKenna), Smith attempts to make his approach, but is constantly thwarted by the number of male suitors lining up to take Auriol out. Or by the sea coming in and soaking his shoes in front of a dismissive Auriol. The episode aired on a Tuesday evening at 8.30pm on BBC1 in June 1974 and never received a repeat airing.

Picture Imperfect

Roy Clarke has the type of writing CV that most writers would give not just their right arm for, but probably all their limbs and appendages for. Last of the Summer Wine, Keeping up Appearances and Open All Hours are sitcoms ingrained into the texture of British comedy and have proved phenomenally popular over the decades. And, even in his 80s, Clarke's spectacular command of 'the funny' is evident in the scripts he is banging out for Still Open All Hours, all blessed with his surgical precision for delivering gags which cut straight to laughter. Pygmalion Smith, however, is somewhat of a misstep, an arrow shot by a shaky hand which fails to hit the mark and doesn’t even end up landing in the posterior of a vicar to provide a guilty laugh.


With Leonard Rossiter starring, you’d be forgiven for assuming that Pygmalion Smith was primed to succeed. And Rossiter is clearly at the height of his powers as a little sitcom by the name of Rising Damp was due to start airing just two months later. There are hints of Rigsby in Rossiter’s performance of Pygmalion Smith, the frantic mannerisms abound and there’s an air of desperation, but it’s a malaise which doesn’t quite work. Whereas Rigsby was riddled with tragedy, Smith lacks that dimension of pathos and, instead, comes across as creepy.


Judged by the sexual politics of the 21st century, Smith – in his pursuit of Auriol – could easily be mistaken as a predator who objectifies women. There’s a scene where Smith and Brewster lurk outside Auriol’s house and, despite Smith being laden with chocolates and flowers, there’s something just a little stalkerish about it. And then, minutes later, Auriol appears and the viewer is ‘treated’ to a long lingering shot of her lenghty legs rising up into a suitor’s car. Now, British comedy of the 1970s had more than a habit of objectifying women – just check out the opening credits of Man About the House– so it’s no surprise to find a little bit of titillation, but it feels highly antiquated and unnecessary now.

Regardless of the sexism, even if Pygmalion Smith is stripped of the waggling bums (which inexplicably get a big laugh from the laughter track) and the long legs in stripper heels, the most startling aspect is that it's still incredibly unfunny. And Roy Clarke is a funny, funny man – he even debuted a gag in Open All Hours about a brush having had several new heads and handles several years before John Sullivan penned it for Trigger. Pygmalion Smith, however, resolutely failed to make me laugh, the closest it came was a wry smile when Smith banged his testicles whilst hopping over a rail. There’s an inherently sadistic hilarity in seeing a man damage his precious reproductive organs, but Pygmalion Smith fails to partner it up with any comedic teammates.

Final Thoughts

Pygmalion Smith is a strange beast, it didn’t leave me gnashing my teeth in anger and cause dried spittle to form in the corners of my mouth, but it was a half hour afflicted with furtive glances to the timer to see when it would all be over. Perhaps it concentrates a bit too much on the sit of the sitcom rather than the characters, a full series – on this showing – would be highly limited, so it’s no surprise this remained a one off; Roy Clarke’s The Magnificent Evans was a much different affair despite the photography link.

Pygmalion Smith is just too uneventful, too underbaked, too lacking in charm and all of this only serves to intensify its power to disappoint. I guess that, if anything, Pygmalion Smith proves that even the very best can have an off day. And, as we all know, Clarke and Rossiter went on to create some of the finest comedies in British history, so we can't complain too much.

The whole episode can be found on YouTube by clicking this delightful link.

Les Dawson may be synonymous with mother-in-law jokes, Blankety Blank and his performances with Roy Barraclough as Cissie and Ada, but, what he's less well known for, is his involvement in a narrative which examined corporate greed, gangland crime and a doomed romance which starts with congealed custard. Don't believe me? Well, let's take a look at The Loner.

Genre: Comedy
Channel: ITV
Transmission: 07/05/1975 - 21/05/1975

Living halfway up a hill in his "Pennine retreat", Dawson (Les Dawson) lives a solitary existence where two alsations come round once a week to collect the rent. Descending from his hillside residence each morning, Dawson finds himself becoming frustrated in antiquated corner shops where only runner beans are on offer and frequently ends up in Harry's Bar, a downtrodden public house where the jukebox contains, due to a clerical error, a record of Gregorian chants. However, The Loner is much more than trivial frustrations for, at the heart of each narrative, is an exploration of the dubious machinations of humanity and society.


The first episode - Dawson's Complaint - finds the righteous, yet vulnerable Dawson rallying against the indignity his fellow man has to suffer at the hands of a corporate giant who is manufacturing pens which will never work. Following this ordeal, Dawson's Connection - the second episode - sees Dawson lumbered with a mysterious package after swapping lines of metaphysical poetry by Andrew Marvell with a stranger in a pub. The final episode in The Loner trilogy - Dawson's Encounter - focuses on a much more personal trial for Dawson as he embarks on a romantic tryst with an enigmatic woman he finds sitting on his hat.

Producing a Loner

Peter Willes, the head of drama over at Yorkshire Television, was keen to work with Dawson and hatched a plan to team him up with writer Alan Plater who had previously written for Z-Cars and its associated Softly, Softly spin-offs. The initial idea for The Loner came from Dawson - as Plater recalled later on - but the finished product was a collaborative piece. The final series was three episodes long with the 25 minute adventures being transmitted on Wednesday evenings at 9.30pm on ITV in May 1975.

The external scenes for The Loner were mostly filmed in the Yorkshire area with both Copley and Sowerby Bridge making appearances, but there was also some brief footage of Dawson filmed near St Paul's Cathedral for the Dawson's Complaint episode. Despite Plater and Dawson being keen to work together again they never returned to the Pennines, there were discussions about a stage adaption of The Loner - to be performed at The Crucible, Sheffield - but this never materialised, mostly due to the intense demands of Dawson's schedule.

The Fool on the Hill

With his world weary demeanour and knack for delivering a one liner with effortless comic timing, Les Dawson was an inimitable character and one who, quite rightly, is woven into the hilarious fabric of British culture. Naturally, anything with Dawson in is of interest, but The Loner was a new one on me. Airing several years before I was even conceived, there had been no repeats and only the first episode has ever been commercially released, so stumbling across some illicit copies of all of The Loner was a welcome discovery.


Now, despite being produced by Yorkshire Television's drama department, The Loner is clearly a comedy. Yet it's a comedy which is difficult to categorise; sure, we're treated to one liners in the time honoured Dawson tradition, but there's also the surreal and absurdist narratives which contain barbed satires on society. And Plater's brilliantly innovative scripts conjure up melancholic plots which reflect Dawson's lugubrious demeanour.

The most ambitious of the three plays, Dawson's Complaint starts with Dawson attempting to register a vague and indirect complaint to a runner bean obsessed shopkeeper (George Malpas); the culmination of this complaint is that the one shilling pen Dawson has recently purchased doesn't work. It's a trifling complaint in isolation, but Plater is keen to use it as a springboard to attack capitalism.


The result finds Dawson travelling to London to confront the manufacturers of the pen, Whirlwind Office Supplies Brighouse Limited - they're based in London rather than Brighouse for tax purposes, no one's sure how this works though. However, whilst registering his complaint with a distracted Mr Harding (Brian Wilde), Whirlwind Office Supplies are sold to Global and Brotherhood Insurance of St Ives - they're based in the north of Scotland rather than St Ives for tax purposes, no one's sure how this works.


Finally arriving in Scotland to meet with Lord Ross and Cromarty (Cyril Luckham), Dawson discovers that he's unable to strike a blow for righteousness as capitalism is completely out of control. Cromarty casually informs Dawson that there's no way they can stop the assembly line for the faulty pens, it's simply not possible as assembly lines are like wild stallions. It's all very O Lucky Man, but at a heavily reduced - and more easy to digest - length. However, there's one final sucker punch waiting for Dawson. Cromarty counters Dawson's threats to cause an uprising by pointing out that any sort of rebellion would cause his life insurance - registered with Global and Brotherhood Insurance of St Ives - as void. Defeated, Dawson heads back home where he finds he can no longer buy runner beans.

And its these sucker punches which define The Loner as Plater twists Dawson's innocent character into dismal situation after dismal situation.

Dawson's Connection, which is the most comedic episode by far, once again lands Dawson into a bewildering situation. Dawson - who wrote poetry in real life - is seemingly cursed to carry around a mysterious package after he recites poetry to a stranger in a "Monty Burton suit" in Harry's Bar. The local police station - helmed by Sergeant Hardaker (Roy Kinnear) - refuse to take it in as their lost property room is overflowing with bicycles, whilst Dawson's attempts to casually 'lose' the package finds it constantly being handed back or flung to him.


Eventually, after a bemusing encounter with the Citizens Advice Bureau, Dawson discovers it contains forged five pound notes and manages to get it back to Big Sam of the Bradford mafia. Paid off with hush money, Dawson appears to have won and decides to celebrate with a glass of Scotch (on the rocks) in Harry's Bar, but the landlord (Reginald Marsh) refuses to indulge Dawson with ice and tells him "You'll have it lukewarm, like everyone else". However, just as Dawson goes to pay for his lukewarm Scotch, he discovers that he's been paid off in forged fivers. After all, the Queen never wore a cloth cap, did she? And, when Dawson arrives home, there's a further boot to the knackers as he's forgotten to renew his library books.

The final episode - Dawson's Encounter - appears to be guiding Dawson towards almost certain happiness as he embarks on a romance with a nameless woman (Gillian Raine) he meets in a restaurant after she takes his seat and sits on his hat. They agree to meet again and, so strongly smitten is Dawson, he tells her that he's willing to accept lies or truths from her - she reveals that she may or may not be married and she has a desire to trample barefoot on potato crisps. However, it's a relationship which isn't suited to reality and the woman eventually leaves Dawson - alone in Harry's Bar - to continue his existence as the archetypal loner.


The Loner, clearly, is a kaleidoscopic view of the world we live in and the existences we try to eke out against the tyranny of life's hardships. The sad, pensive air pervades the series much like the mournful inflections of Dawson's stage persona. And it's wonderfully acted by Dawson, a man who looks like he was born shrugging his shoulders, but one who I had previously, due to my ignorance, merely labelled as a fantastic comic/entertainer rather than an actor.


He may have worked upon more popular shows such as Sez Lez and Blankety Blank which are still, to this day, venerated and consumed with a healthy side order of nostalgia, but perhaps the finest portrayal of his talents as a comic and a man lie within The Loner. No doubt, it could easily be dismissed as highfalutin, but it only takes a quick scrape of The Loner's complex sheath to see that it delivers a message of clarity on some of the most important aspects of life. And, okay, Dawson rarely has a happy outcome, but is that really any different to anyone else trying to get along in this harsh, unwelcoming world?

I’ve only been to track down two episodes of Benny, but those two episodes contain a measure of violence and terror which are in stark contrast to its beautiful Cambridge surroundings.

Genre: Children's
Channel: ITV
Transmission: 29/03/1984 - 21/06/1984

Several months back, I took ownership of a hundred or so VHS tapes dating back to the early 80s with the intent of sifting through them. And, at the end of a particularly ancient BASF tape, I found a few clips of CITV continuity featuring Sue Robbie from 1984. Tantalisingly, one of these clips featured Robbie introducing a show that I had never heard of: Benny. There were about four seconds of the animated intro before the tape cut to a recording of First Post (also featuring Sue Robbie). Benny, however, intrigued me and I wanted to find out more about this mysterious show.

My first stop on the investigative trail took me to Google, but all I could find were some listings for a selection of Benny books which came out following the series. Thankfully, I’ve got enough printed materials and online resources to delve a little further, so I was able to pin down some basics on the show at very least.

Walking the Dog

The series was written and presented by Diane Wilmer and produced by Yorkshire Television in 1984 with 13 10-minute episodes being transmitted on ITV in the 12pm and 4pm slot on Thursdays. Aside from that, I was struggling to paint much of a picture of the show. In fact, I barely had a canvas, let alone a palette of colours and a pretentious, floppy beret. As ever, though, the BFI Viewing Rooms offered up the prospect of two episodes, so it was to London that I headed.

TV Times, March 1984

Shaggy Dog Stories

Given the scarcity of footage up to this point, I had assumed that the series was an animated affair due to the snippet of footage I had found. However, it’s only the opening titles which are animated. The titles feature an animated Benny bounding and leaping through a series of comic strip boxes as he runs alongside joggers, turns up in the back of a police car and even peers out of a pram pushed by a lady. It’s all backed by a delightfully dreamy slice of folky goodness provided by the guitar talents of Gordon Giltrap.

So, it seemed as though it was going to be a typically fun lunchtime children’s show packed full of jolly japes and minor jeopardy. Now, the BFI only have access to two episodes: ‘Benny and the Common’ and ‘Benny to the Rescue’ which just happen to be the first and last episodes respectively. And they don’t half offer an unusual tone for a children’s TV show.

The animation soon gives way to real life action as Diane Wilmer opens up the episodes on Midsummer Common, Cambridge. Joined by Benny – a shaggy, black mongrel – Wilmer provides a little bit of background on Benny’s recent activities and then proceeds to give a quick introduction to the episodes. Neither animation or live action are on offer though and, instead, the adventures are formed from a series of still photographs – taken by Brian Cleasby – with the occasional comic strip flourish such as speech bubbles and Batman style “BANG” graphics.

The opening episode explains how Benny came to live at the common, but it’s not a story that stems from the most pleasant of circumstances. You see, for all his life, Benny has been owned by a cruel and angry bargee. Moored up in Cambridge, Benny meets two local children – Bella (Olivia Ward) and Jack (Kirk Wilde). Benny is shocked by their kindness when they shower him with cheese, chocolate and hugs, but this enrages the donkey jacket clad bargee and he kicks Benny. As the bargee becomes more and more enraged with the children, Benny breaks free of his rope and leaps onto the bank with the children. The bargee has had enough and heads off without Benny, leaving Bella and Jack to take him in to their rather opulent home (it’s got chandeliers and HUGE paintings on the wall) opposite the common.


The final episode sees the return of the bargee and this time he’s decided he wants to take Benny back. Discovering where Benny lives, the bargee stalks Benny whilst menacingly clutching a length of rope to ensnare him with. However, the bargee ends up lassoing his rope around Benny’s friend Harry, a Bernese Mountain Dog. Due to Harry’s superior size, the bargee decides he’ll have Harry instead and drags him off to the barge. Benny attempts to rescue Harry by nipping at the man’s ankle, but this simply results in Benny getting kicked. Running back to Bella and Jack’s house to get help, Benny and the family manage to catch the bargee while he’s held up at a lock on the river. Bella and Jack’s Dad jumps on to the barge and grabs the bargee before giving him a dressing down. Eventually, the bargee relents and unties Harry before setting off in a surly mood.

Although there’s always a happy ending for Benny, the stories do become rather downbeat at times what with the anger and cruelty of the bargee. Naturally, the bargee only features in two episodes, so I doubt the rest of the series features Benny being kicked. And it’s far from the genuine glimpses into humanity’s darker side such as that seen in A Break in the Sun and Grange Hill’s harder hitting storylines. Regardless, it’s an intriguing combination of the nastier aspects of life and more amiable exploits such as children playing on delightful British commons.

Diane Wilmer, as the writer, clearly has the stories close to her heart and she imbues the episodes with a quintessentially British air. However, she doesn’t quite zing and pop with the same engaging electricity that other more established children’s TV presenters could summon. I’m thinking of people like Chloe Ashcroft, Carol Leader and Carol Chell, all presenters capable of elevating a series due to their inimitable charm. Nonetheless, it’s Wilmer’s baby and it’s understandable why she would want to take full control over her narratives and shape their delivery.

The method for delivering Wilmer’s stories is effective too and very similar to the techniques used in Teddy Edward. However, the comic strip additions such as thought bubbles and the captions jar a little bit. They’re used sparingly, so don’t feel an integral part of the storytelling and they’re not exactly fantastic artwork, so clash with the classy photography of Brian Cleasby.

Perhaps my favourite aspect of the series is the fantastic music provided by Gordon Giltrap. Anyone who has ever spent time walking round Cambridge in the sunshine knows that it's a tranquil, laid back city and Giltraps gentle, acoustic strummings soundtrack this landscape perfectly. However, during the more dramatic moments, Giltrap isn't afraid to get a little heavier in a manner which recalls The Who at their acoustic best. And, yes, if the full soundtrack to Benny ever gets released, I'll be at the front of the queue.

Having only seen two episodes, it’s difficult for me to give a true opinion on the series. It’s certainly interesting due to its forgotten status, but it’s the content which intrigues me even more. A small clipping from the TV Times promises that it’s “adventure all the way” following the first episode; further episodes find Benny encountering a stray dog, heading out on the beat with the police, admiring a rainbow and visiting an allotment, so they don’t sound that terrifying, do they?

So, if you’ve got any other episodes of Benny, please get in touch and maybe we can get a better representation of the series online.

Threads is one of the most fantastic slices of British television ever transmitted, but it's also one that will bring you to your knees and leave your soul battered and bruised for days afterwards.

Originally broadcast in September 1984on BBC2, Threads is a drama-documentary which presents a disturbing look at the effects of a nuclear attack on Britain. Taking its title from the threads which hold society together, Threads examines the catastrophic events that unfold as these threads are ripped to pieces.

Focussing on the fortunes (or rather devastating misfortunes) of Ruth Beckett (Karen Meagher), Threads tells Ruth's tale as she stumbles first from unplanned pregnancy to the crippling ordeal of a nuclear winter. Providing a broader analysis on the impact of nuclear weapons falling on the UK, Threads uses a mixture of onscreen updates and statistics alongside the dulcet, yet academic tones of Paul Vaughan's narration.

And, now, after undergoing a 2K restoration from the original 16mm prints, Threads has been remastered for DVD by Simply Media in a two-disc release. Whereas previous DVD releases have, in terms of features, been as stark as the content within Threads, this new release is everything that fans have been waiting for. Comprising interviews, cast and crew commentaries along with original Radio Times articles and letters, it's an exhaustive run through the film's history.

I won't spoil the surprise of the myriad insights waiting within the extras, but rest assured that the Mick Jackson and Karen Meagher commentaries will bring a whole new dimension of understanding to Threads. For now, though, lets take a closer look at the film.

Preparing Threads

Although the British public were well aware that relations between the USA and Russia had reached an all time low, they were unaware, in 1984, just how close the world had come to nuclear war in the previous five years. With incidents such as the Norad Glitch, Stanislav Petrov's well-judged false alarm and the Able Archer exercise taking the world to the brink of a nuclear catastrophe, the truth behind any sense of nuclear deterrence was wearing painfully thin.


Two decades earlier in 1965, the BBC had produced The War Game which examined the effects of a nuclear attack on Britain. However, it was never transmitted at the time due to BBC fears that it was too horrific. Top brass at the BBC were so concerned by the film's content that they genuinely believed that it could lead to suicides. With a whole host of cultural and societal changes taking place since the 1960s, Alasdair Milne - BBC Director General - decided that it was time to tap into contemporary nuclear anxiety and Threads was born.

Written by Barry Hines - best known for 'A Kestrel for a Knave' which was later adapted into Kes - Threads was directed by Mick Jackson. Now, Jackson came fully loaded with not just a camera, but also a nuclear pedigree. Only two years before, Jackson had written and produced BBC1's QED: A Guide to Armageddon. Concentrating on the aftermath of a nuclear bomb detonating above London, A Guide to Armageddon brought a brutal realism to the threat of nuclear war. Threads, however, would prove to be unlike anything seen before or since.

Unleashing Threads

Society runs on a strict regime of structure and rules. Without order, society would collapse and anarchy would reign. Barry Hines knows this and that's why, in Threads, he pushes this fragile state of compliance to breaking point. Hines doesn't just stop there; he systematically snaps every sinew in its twitching frame before exposing it to a downpour of uranium and plutonium. And he does it all with the grim brand of realism that had empowered his novels 'A Kestrel for a Knave' and 'Looks and Smiles'.


Never wanting to succumb to a glossy, idealised struggle, Hines resolutely ensures that stylised heroism is kept as far away from Threads as possible. This, after all, isn't Hollywood, it's the terraced streets of 1980s Sheffield, a city caught up in strikes and economic hardships. Despite this landscape, Hines concentrates his tale around a figure who is in stark contrast to the society around her. With a baby on the way, Ruth Beckett embodies the future, but it's one where toxic mushroom clouds threaten to envelop all sense of hope.

Initially bearing all the hallmarks of a kitchen sink drama, Threads begins with the blossoming relationship between Ruth and her partner Jimmy Kemp (Reece Dinsdale) hitting an unexpected road bump in the form of an unplanned pregnancy. While our young protagonists arrange, as society dictates, a marriage, matters of a much greater magnitude are bubbling away in the background. Glimpsed news reports reveal that a deepening military crisis in the Middle East is bringing American and Soviet relations to a dangerous low.


Evidence of a shift in global stability gradually begins to seep into Ruth and Jimmy's lives; the news brings nothing but escalating tensions and, in Sheffield, a massive redeployment of military resources is taking place. Life, of course, goes on for Ruth and Jimmy as they endeavour to decorate their flat and build a nest for their forthcoming child, but the very definition of what constitutes a home will soon be rewritten.

A new, nuclear dawn soon arrives as all out nuclear war breaks out between the Americans and the Soviets. 3,000 megatons worth of nuclear weapons are exchanged between the two superpowers, with 210 megatons falling on the UK. The effects are devastating with every infrastructure in the country being reduced to a scorched shadow of its former self. An emergency response team, holed up deep beneath the remains of Sheffield town hall, attempt to exert relief, but they're thwarted at every turn by dwindling supplies and radioactive fallout.

Against a backdrop of radiation sickness, martial law and the harsh realities of living in amongst ruined buildings, Ruth struggles to find any sense of control or sanctity. Heavily pregnant, Ruth - now separated from Jimmy - symbolises the antithesis of everything that this harsh new world represents. Giving birth to her daughter Jane (Victoria O'Keefe) in an abandoned barn, Ruth must now cope with raising a child in a world where harvests are crippled, technology is non-existent and rats form the national diet.


It's a truly horrifying narrative that Barry Hines imbues with a power and gritty realism which refuses to relent. Much like the heartbreaking death of the kestrel in 'A Kestrel for a Knave', Hines refuses to bow down to sentimentality. Instead, he crafts a cracked new world where even recognisable language amongst the young has been replaced with a rough, feral approximation of syllables. And as evidenced by Jane's nonchalant reaction to her mother's death, emotions no longer feel like a worthwhile currency.

Crucial themes such as society's dependence on conformity are thrust to the forefront and almost all of the deeper horror in Threads comes from the barbarism of a broken, mangled society. It's a damaged Britain which has, in part, received a significant sucker punch from the abysmal civil defence response and acts as a damning indictment of political responsibility. Crippling Britain's recovery even further is mankind's dependence on technology; with electricity and medical supplies non-existent, the country descends back into the dark ages.

While Hines script is incredibly powerful, Mick Jackson's direction takes the narrative and magnifies it almost exponentially thanks to the terrifying visuals.

A Guide for Armageddon certainly contained some chilling sights, but, in Threads, Jacksontruly ratchets up the visual fear. Charred corpses litter the streets (and trees), shell-shocked mothers cradle their dead children and Ruth is forced to feast upon the raw, contaminated corpse of a sheep. With an abandoned Hillsborough estate turned over to the production, Jackson is also granted the opportunity to subvert the the sanctity of the family home. Where once there was love and community, there now remains nothing but piles of rubble full of rats and disease.


And it's this sharp, sudden detachment from reality which makes watching Threads such a numbing experience. Again and again, Ruth, the innocent citizen that represents us all, is bludgeoned by the harsh realities around her. Every inch of Threads is infected with a crushing sense of helplessness and it's this that upsets the most. However, much as Ruth continues to stagger onwards, you can't help but keep watching. To say it blunts your soul would be an understatement; I genuinely think that Threads rewires something deep inside of you to cope.

In the face of all this depravity and destruction there is, believe it or not, time for humour and, whisper it, hope.

The humour occurs only sporadically, but it's there. Shortly after the nuclear attack, a soldier shoots a looter dead and discovers a pack of crisps on the body. The soldier's joy at finding the snack soon turns sour, though, as he discovers they're prawn cocktail. A trifling indignity in the grand scheme of things, but a hilarious reminder of our priorities. Much later, more laughs abound as Ruth haggles with a street vendor for dead rats and, in a deliciously cruel visual gag, loads them into a Gateway shopping bag with the tag line 'Good Food'.


In even shorter supply is hope. Although society's foundations have well and truly been destroyed, there's a concerted effort to pull together and rebuild. A scene towards the end of the film finds Jane undergoing a crude form of education - one of the cornerstones of society - and, later, she unravels old threads so that something new can be created. There's even time, just before the final scene turns your stomach, for some sentimentality; as Ruth dies - 13 years on from the attacks - it's revealed that she's been carrying, for all this time, one of Jimmy's beloved books on birds.

Completely uncategorisable due to its kaleidoscopic range, Threads is a masterpiece of British television. Like all the very best art, Threads challenges conventions, induces extreme emotions and delivers a truly unique experience. And, as long as nuclear weapons remain a reality, Threads will never lose any of its explosive power.

Threads: Remastered is available through Simply Media from 9th April 2018. Curious British Telly readers can get an exclusive discount by using the code CURIOUS10

Ever since The Beatles first burst into the public's consciousness in 1962, there has been an enduring interest in John, Paul, George and Ringo thanks to the the manner in which they redefined modern culture and conveyed a sense of togetherness to millions. John Lennon, as anyone who's ever listened to a note of music knows, departed the stage far earlier than anyone would wish, but his legacy lives on as the finest encore imaginable. John Lennon: A Journey in the Life may not add anything new to Lennon's legend, but it maintains the absorbing appeal of the man and is a must watch for any fan.

In the Studio

A Journey in the Life aired on BBC1 at 9.25pm on 6th December 1985 to mark the 5 year anniversary of his tragic murder by Mark Chapman. Part of the long running BBC documentary series Everyman, A Journey in the Life was directed by Ken Howard who himself was no stranger to the world of music having co-written many songs for Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick and Titch. Oh, and he also co-wrote a song for that little known singer called Elvis Presley.


Using a kaleidoscopic blend of dramatisation, archive footage and specially recorded performances (such as Roger Waters playing Across the Universe), A Journey in the Life cleverly taps into Lennon's creative nous. Covering his childhood through to his last few years in New York with Yoko and Sean, the documentary finds Bernard Hill playing the adult Lennon as he wanders through key moments in Lennon's life. Surreal landscapes form the background against which Lennon tells his story and, believe it or not, one of them is actually footage from the Revs computer game by Acornsoft.


Immediately following the programme's broadcast, the BBC featured a short interview with Yoko Ono where she praised A Journey in the Life and reflected upon the five years since his death. A Journey in the Life has never been repeated and, due to the amount of copyrighted material, is unlikely to pop up on YouTube in anything less than a heavily butchered version. If you're interested in a digital copy then get in touch and maybe I can sort something out.

Beautiful Boy

It's very difficult to be just a casual fan of The Beatles as their story is so unique and engaging that you inevitably find yourself devouring every tome and documentary dedicated to them. The individual members of the Fab Four, too, have found significant attention dedicated towards the minutiae of their lives and it genuinely feels, in the 21st century, that there's very little left to learn. A Journey in the Life certainly doesn't provided anything new on Lennon, but as with everything Lennon ever said, there's an undeniable pull to it.


Bernard Hill captures the cutting, yet playful vocal patterns of Lennon perfectly and, certainly in the later-era Lennon stakes, also passes himself off as a convincing facsimile of the man. It's no surprise to learn that, 10 years previously, he had played Lennon on stage. The documentary is also keen to bring together a number of Lennon's contemporaries to appear in small roles throughout, so, for example we get Peter Cook playing a vicar, Roger Waters belting out Lennon material and a slightly terrifying performance by G.B. Zoot Money. They're appearances which are much more than just a flavour of the era that Lennon embodied, but more a distillation of his eclectic tastes and moods.


Always keen to push the boundaries, Lennon was a fan of visual aesthetics and A Journey in the Life feeds it appearance through a Sgt Pepper's filter to pay homage to this creativity. Psychedelic light shows jostle with computer graphics while split screen shots give way to the almost obligatory wonder of 1980s BBC Chroma key technology. It's a smorgasbord of visual delights and in sharp contrast to the more naturalistic atmosphere captured by the Anthology series in the 90s and, even further back, the Imagine film from 1972.


Most importantly, though, the Lennon story is downright fascinating. Sure, we've heard all about Lennon's individualism before, but A Journey in the Life really gives it free rein here. The dialogue comprises mainly of bona-fide Lennon soundbites, so it's an undiluted view of the man's mind rather than a sycophantic procession of talking heads waxing lyrical. All the cornerstones of Lennon's legend are carefully dissected with a cutting honesty, so we're treated to insights into his multifaceted persona from his snarling arrogance through to his almost crippling vulnerability.

As diverse as the man himself, A Journey in the Life is one of the most enjoyable appraisals of Lennon's career.

I haven't been digging through too many tapes over the last few months, but I've still managed to work my way through several hundred metres worth of magnetic tape. And, with it being such a harmless pursuit, who would possibly want to break a butterfly on a wheel? So, that's why I've managed to gather together a few curiosities for you to gaze upon and get terribly nostalgic over.

1. 16/09/1990 - BBC1 - Grandstand (Football)



April saw the sad passing of former England captain and all round nice guy Ray Wilkins, so it was rather fortuitous that I found footage of him at his eloquent best. Chatting with Bob Wilson on Grandstand, Wilkins - who was still playing at the top level - discusses England's potential under new manager Graham Taylor.

2. 18/10/1990 - ITV - Jackson Pace: The Great Years



If there's one show that I've been determined to bring back into the public consciousness then it's Jackson Pace: The Great Years. A fantastic Children's ITV sitcom written by Daniel Peacock and starring what appears to be half of The Comedy Store, footage of Jackson Pace has remained incredibly elusive. However, following tense negotiations with a man in Northamptonshire, I finally managed to secure an episode. Picture quality isn't fantastic, but it doesn't matter when such silly adventures are on offer. If you have more footage: GET IN TOUCH!

3. 08/11/1983 - BBC1 - Sixty Minutes: Mick Jagger Interview



Sixty Minutes was the short lived follow-up to BBC1's long running Nationwide current affairs show. This fine quality clip - nearly 35 years old - comes from early on in Sixty Minutes run and features an exclusive interview with Mick Jagger about the Rolling Stones' new album Undercover.

4. 1986 - BBC1 - Eight Roads to Mexico



Northern Ireland haven't reached the World Cup all that often - just three times - and the last time was way back in 1986. To celebrate reaching Mexico 86, BBC Northern Ireland put together this documentary - that only aired in Northern Ireland - exploring their route to the world's biggest stage. Featuring plenty of action from the qualifying stages, it's also packed full of interviews with players including Martin O'Neill, Pat Jennings and manager Billy Bingham.

5. 12/01/1986 - Windmill - BBC2



I can't imagine anyone but an archive television fan scanning through this blog, so this particular upload should tickle your fancy like no other. A complete episode of Windmill, a TV show from the mid 1980s which was presented by Chris Serle and dug deep into the BBC's archives. With Richard Stilgoe popping by for an interview, this episode looks at the subject of childhood on TV.

6. 1989/90 Children's ITV Continuity Clips



One tape that I recently received had several episodes of Count Duckula and The Sooty Show on, but these finds aren't that fascinating as they're all available in much better quality elsewhere. However, the real magic, as ever, comes within the little snippets of continuity footage in between the main programmes. In this case, the tape yielded several helpings of Children's ITV continuity featuring Jerry Foulkes, Jeanne Downs and, of course, Scally the Dog.

7. 19/03/1989 - BBC1 - Closedown with Ceefax Fault



Here's one for the real TV nerds, a BBC1 closedown complete with a bizarre Ceefax fault. As the channel winds down for the evening, a ghostly Ceefax page appears behind the iconic BBC globe as the national anthem plays. And I can't think of anything more incredibly British.

You know the drill by now, if you've got any ancient VHS tapes lying around then get in touch. I might just be interested in digging through them!