Radio Minus 50: Friday 26 April 1963

The Navy Lark: Whittlesea Regatta

The more I hear of The Navy Lark, the stranger it seems that the format was (briefly) changed because it was considered to be repetitive.  That's not to say it isn't repetitive: in fact it's probably the most repetitive comedy programme I've ever experienced (sorry to repeat the word repetitive so often).  But that seems to be the whole point of it: the mayhem-laden middle third of each episode, with the crew of HMS Troutbridge getting into a series of scrapes, could be transposed to any other episode, with very little difference being made.  On either side, there's the set-up for that week's adventure (this week, Troutbridge is due to tow the Admiral's barge to Whittlesea bay for the Northern seaside town's regatta), and the eventual conclusion, usually involving an angry Captain Povey blowing off steam at the .  It's like a cartoon, or a Beano strip - the audience know exactly what they're going to get, and that's the way they like it.

Most of the fun's to be had from each episode's incidental details: Whittlesea Regatta's stolen by its guest characters:  Tenniel Evans as the stone-deaf admiral, Ronnie Barker as Whittlesea's gloomy mayor and Janet Brown as his domineering wife.  And then there's the very peculiar innuendo: when First Officer Murray suggests Sub-Lt Phillips does his "left hand down a bit" automatically, a shocked Pertwee replies "Does he?" to much audience merriment.  I've no idea what it means.

Sunday 21 April 1963

And what, you may well ask, is a Granatoid Tank? Well, it's a near-unstoppable tank driven by the evil robotic Granatoids.  Here's one, with its grumpy face, and its equally grumpy occupants (being robots, they talk in exactly the same way as Fireball XL5 pilot Robert).

George? Gerald? Grenville? We're never told

The Granatoids are bulldozing their way around Planet 73, recently discovered by the people of Earth, and being surveyed by a pair of Germanic scientists who are terrified of the unfriendly robots.  Helpfully, they sketch in some information about the Granatoids: "Zere is nussing zat can stop zem - zey are robots of hostile intelligence zat have been seeking a home for years."

Considering all they want's a  home, and Planet 73 seems a pretty unpromising spot, it strikes me that the best thing might just be to pack up and leave it to the Granatoids - but what do I know? Anyway, back at Space City there's the equally urgent problem of Space Doctor Venus's upcoming birthday.  Steve Zodiac and Matt Matic have decided to pool their resources and buy her a record she might like, and head to Space City's number one music-buying destination, Ma Doughty's record shop.

Ma Doughty herself is a ridiculous Oirish washerwoman stereotype (near enough every other word is "begorrah"), and the pale-eyed, lumpy-faced, eyebrowless utility puppet used for her looks distinctly sinister.

Still, she certainly seems to know her music, recommending "Formula 5", a gorgeous Barry Gray jazz tune.  At this distance it seems unlikely that people in 2063 will be buying jazz instrumentals on vinyl from little old ladies in record shops, but it's certainly a nice thought.  Here's a snatch of "Formula 5" for you.

As well they might, Steve and Matt groove away to the tune ("it sure is a cool number," judges Steve) in Ma Doughty's listening area (featuring various props familiar from earlier episodes)...

...but then they spot a strange, piano-like instrument in the corner.  It's an electrorchestra, which can reproduce the sound of any instrument.  You might almost call it some sort of "synthesiser".  Matt, showing a hitherto unsuspected musical side, gives us an expert demonstration (playing the standard Fireball XL5 "twist" tune used on the surprisingly frequent occasions in the show we see someone having a bit of a bop - as Steve and Ma Doughty do here).

Money clearly being no object, Steve and Matt decide to upgrade Venus's present from a 7" single to the massive (and presumably very pricey) electrorchestra.  Ma Doughty agrees to deliver it to Fireball XL5, but burning with desire to travel in space due to her Pappy being an early astronaut, she stows away in the box herself.  Eventually she's discovered when the XL5 crew head off to Planet 73 to answer the scientists' distress call.

Kept aboard the ship to ensure she doesn't get in the Granatoids' way, Ma Doughty insists that her Pappy bequeathed to her the secret of defeating the robots.  Nobody's in the mood to listen to a crazy Irish stereotype, though.  But it turns out that Ma's necklace is made from plyton, an incredibly scarce mineral fatal to Granatoids, and by standing in front of them she manages to frighten them off (I told you she was scary looking).

"Return to Granatoid!" the head robot commands, raising the question of why they're looking for a home if they've already got one.  No answer's forthcoming.

With crazy old Ma Doughty vindicated, and Venus's birthday here, it's time to party like its 2099!

The Granatoid Tanks is here, for your delectation.

Far back in the mists of time, we return to Noggin, King of the Nogs' quest to catch the wicked Arab who's stolen his crown.

Noggin's flying machine is airborne once more, and has reached the Sea of Silver Sand.  Spying a little house by a stream, Noggin and chums set the flying boat down, though Thor Nogsson's terrified the house belongs to an evil wizard.

He's half right: the occupant's a wizard, but a friendly one named Haroun Ibn-Dowd with a peculiar-looking genie (of which Thor Nogsson's predictably terrified) as his servant.

Haroun's more than happy to help Noggin in his search, revealing that the rightful king of the land has been usurped by his evil uncle.  He lends Noggin the genie to help, as well as disguises and mounts for him and Thor.  I can only quote Oliver Postgate's narration here: "Noggin looked quite peculiar.  And Thor Nogsson, veiled and robed like an Arab lady, looked even odder."

I'm not sure how we're meant to take the fact that Thor, with his massive beard, is playing the woman of the two.  To complete his humiliation, he has a great deal of trouble with his steed.

"Have you got any which haven't got pointed tops?"

You can watch the omnibus edition of parts 3 and 4 of Noggin and the Flying Machine here.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tvlTtL5sCJ0

And now for some music.  Gerry and the Pacemakers are still topping the charts with "How Do You Do It?".  Up to number 4 this week here's Tommy Roe with "The Folk Singer".

Saturday 20 April 1963

Sabotage! (an exclamation mark in the title is always a hallmark of quality) is written by Reed De Rouen, who gave us the excellent Avengers episode Six Hands Across a Table a few weeks ago.  As with Six Hands, De Rouen uses Sabotage! to comment on Britain's decline as a world power.  The episode begins in comic fashion, with Sir Ian Rand-Fuller, the cranky governor of a British colony (Maurice Colbourne - not the Howard's Way star but the old theatrical trouper he named himself after) grumpily predicting doom and disaster as Britain prepares to grant independence.  But then, from his place of concealment, out rushes a topless man in a turban and tries to stab him.  Underneath the brown boot polish we can recognise stunt arranger Ray Austin, so we know straight away there'll be some fisticuffs with Neil Hallett later in the episode.

Tony Miller's sent out to investigate the links between the country's nationalist party and the shadowy organisation that's backing them.  This week he's undercover as a Dutch explosives expert who's undercover as a Harbour technician (got that?).  The only hotel on the island is run by shifty Emil Zadeck (big Eric Pohlmann, last seen in The Avengers a few weeks back), who also happens to be the police chief, as well as occupying any other position of authority he's able to buy.

Immediately after checking in, Miller manages to foil another attempted murder by Ray Austin.  The object this time is Sir Ian's daughter Nancy, played by the beautiful, languidly posh Jill Melford.  She and Tony strike up a flirtatious relationship, and what a charming couple they make.  Nancy introduces Tony to her father as well as harbourmaster Edmund Wilson (future Doomwatch star John Paul, sporting an enormous beard that it's very difficult to stop looking at).

Reporting to Wilson the next day, Miller's greeted by his beautiful secretary, played by Aliza Gur - obviously chosen for her looks rather than her ability with her lines: "Come in Mr Wilson, Mr Wilson is expecting you."

Neil Hallett looking very suave indeed

It turns out that Wilson is in the pay of the sinister Kuroc Industries, an international cartel that wants to gain control of all the country's resources - and to that end has employed the explosives expert he imagines Miller to be to help drive out the British.  Nancy knows all about what Wilson's up to: "Get orf this island" she warns Miller.

But it turns out that it's not Nancy who's in league with Wilson - it's her father.  Colbourne gives a wonderful character study throughout as the weary colonial official ("I never drink when I'm at home, it must be the heat" he says unconvincingly as he pours himself another gin) but for the most part he's a purely comic character.  His final speech, however, as he resigns himself to being found out as a traitor, is really powerful stuff in its bitterness at the treatment of the administrators of Britain's Raj, tremendously written and performed: "So this is the end, eh? The end of 35 years of being shunted and shuffled from backwater to backwater.  Pushed around by a string of political rabbits calling themselves Colonial Secretaries.  Yes... I could have amounted to something once, you know.  Oh yes, I had my foot in the door.  But there was always someone slightly better placed, as the saying goes."  Sir Ian's reason for throwing his lot in with Kuroc is movingly pathetic: "the chance to think for myself, and make decisions."

Along the way, Miller of course gets the chance of a good old punch-up with Ray Austin's silent henchman character:

Sabotage! was the last episode of Ghost Squad to be made, but don't despair, fans, as there are still plenty of earlier ones still to be broadcast in the coming weeks.  And now, for the benefit of anyone who might like to see it, here's a semi-naked Neil Hallett.

Nice curtains

The Arthur Haynes Show has changed its opening titles yet again.  It's quite an elaborate change considering we've reached the penultimate episode of the series, and I like the new ones so much I thought I'd share them with you in full:

The first sketch this week is a bit out of the ordinary: Haynes and Joan Newell (last seen here as Albert Steptoe's fiancee) play a warring duke and duchess.  Refusing to interact with each other, they use hapless butler Nicholas Parsons as a go-between, heaping various indignities intended for each other on him.

For the most part the sketch is pure slapstick, though the punchline carries on the show's vein of black humour as Arthur shoots Parsons dead then stomps out of the room with a parting shot at his wife: "Let that be a lesson to you!"

The brief second sketch is notable mainly for cheekily appropriating the theme to the BBC's Z Cars as Arthur leads a gang of thieves disguised as a band in robbing the attendees of the policemen's ball.  Finally, Arthur and Dermot visit the Irish embassy with the plan of emigrating.  Rather than the English-hating firebrand they were expecting, the embassy official they meet is plummy Parsons, bemused at their decision to move to a country that so many people are leaving ("I can tell from your Irish accent that you are an Englishman," he tells Arthur, who's trying a bit too hard).  Arthur explains their plan to raise an army and reclaim the six counties - to Parsons' horror.

We've already been told that Dermot was born in Paddington, but this week we discover he's never even been to Ireland and his accent was picked up on a trip to Liverpool.  He insists on his Irishness though, his father having fought against the English in England itself.

"When his father was drunk there wasn't an Englishman who dare come near him"

This week's musical guest is Jill Day.  I'd never heard of her before, and her smiley performance of standard numbers is pretty much par for the course, but I'll say this for her - she's got a way with a cape.

On the couch in this week's Human Jungle is British junior ice skating champ Verity Clarke (Janina Faye).

Verity's been plagued by a recurring dream where she falls into a crack in the ice rink - has this led to her recent skating accident? She had only a minor injury, but claims she's no longer able to skate.  It looks like her pushy mother (Jacqueline Lindsay), and her father (George A Cooper), often unable to see her skate as he's busy with his car hire business, might be at the root of it all.

They're planning to sue Verity's trainer, Dick Elbine (John McLaren) for £20,000 for causing Verity's accident, and Dick calls in Dr Corder to analyse Verity in aid of his case.  Dick's close relationship with Verity looks a bit suspicious to the jaded eyes of a viewer in 2013, and if Thin Ice was to be remade now it seems certain the impropriety of it would be played up.  Dick's choice of outfit, including fleece and bow tie, certainly seems to point to unnatural desires of some kind.

This is of course in stark contrast to the perfectly well-adjusted Dr Corder's superb taste in clothes, Herbert Lom being the best-dressed man on telly at this time.

Veteran Britfilm bit-parter Cyril Chamberlain pops up in an uncredited role as a gossipy mechanic who leads Corder to wonder if the accident might have been caused deliberately in order to make the Clarke family richer.

But it turns out that the solution to everything's actually much simpler.  Verity turns out to have caused the injury to herself deliberately as she'd overheard her parents talking about divorce and thought that if her skating career ended they might have less to argue about and stay together.  But in actual fact they weren't planning divorce at all: they love each other very much, and just argue a lot and threaten to leave each other as a way of blowing off steam.  Some might see this as a huge anti-climax after a great deal of angst, but I was charmed by its very ordinariness.  Summing up at the end of the episode, Corder expresses his view that Verity will never be a world champion because she'll always put her career second to the welfare of others.  But he suggests that maybe being a nice person is no less important than being a champion.  Hear, hear, Dr C.