Showing posts with label feature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label feature. Show all posts

Sunday, 7 October 2012

The Curious Case of BBC Three

 
Until a few weeks ago, the most I’d ever watched BBC Three was when it streamed Olympic sports over the summer. It was a channel that, with a few notable exceptions, I generally only resorted to if there was nothing else on and I couldn’t be bothered to pick up a book. But over the last month or so, something strange has happened. BBC Three has had a sudden surge of appointment television, of programmes that I would choose to watch, not just let wash over me because I can’t roll out of the dent I’ve made in the sofa (it’s been a long summer).
BBC Three’s remit states that it should provide “high-quality” programming that is “innovative” and utilises “new UK talent”. Maybe I have a selective memory or I’m being overly critical, but those certainly aren’t the words that would spring to mind if anyone asked me to describe the channel. Maybe I’ve just missed much of the good programming the channel has had in the past, or perhaps the fact that it is funded by the licence fee means that we will always expect more of BBC Three. Its rival E4, competing for the same age group, often seems to grab the big name US imports, which attract more attention than any misfires the channel might produce.
But recently on BBC Three there has been a glut of new, decent comedy, the likes of which the channel usually only likes to provide in sporadic episodes, often years apart, before coming to its senses and returning to its usual output of repeats and Greatest Movie Mistakes; see Little Britain, Gavin and Stacey, and Him and Her for examples, all of which, even if not to your personal taste, have garnered larger audiences and more critical praise than the usual BBC Three fare. The channel seems to be undergoing another comedy renaissance at the moment, producing a string of quality programmes that seem a cut above the normal channel output.
Jack Whitehall’s Bad Education was a strong sitcom debut that I found myself looking forward to every week, mainly due to the phenomenally talented young cast that populated the classroom. The show managed to produce a whole host of gifted young actors, certainly filling the “new UK talent” requirement.
Cuckoo, the channel’s latest comedy, is far from perfect, but driven by the ridiculously brilliant Andy Samberg, it has become compulsively watchable. The inclusion of Samberg seems to hint at the channel’s intent – an American comedy legend from The Lonely Island and Saturday Night Live, he is traditionally more likely to be found in a spoof music video with Justin Timberlake than fronting a BBC Three comedy.
The channel also aired what was perhaps my favourite new show of the summer, The Revolution Will Be Televised (although truthfully I can’t really remember what I was watching two and a half months ago at the beginning of the holiday). When I saw the trailer, it looked like a lazy prank show, featuring comedians handing out Jubilee merchandise to the public and chortling about how it’s cheap tat; obvious, and not particularly funny. But it turned out to be a brave, intelligent and most importantly hilarious show. Rather than being a mere exercise in cynicism, Revolution explained the cold hard facts behind some of the biggest scandals and injustices that are going on, and then combined this with hysterical public stunts – one of its stars was the guy who tried to give George Osborne a GCSE maths textbook. Unfortunately for everyone, Mr Osborne refused it.
Revolution was a genuinely excellent programme, the sort that feels so vital that you are relieved someone is making it. With output like this, BBC Three seems to be finally demonstrating its worth. Is this the start of rejuvenation in the channel? Or is it just another brief episode of brilliance before the channel suddenly remembers that John Humphrys hates it, is crippled by self-doubt and returns to being a bit naff? Who knows. But I will certainly now be more inclined to make time for new shows on the channel, even if they do rub up alongside Pop’s Greatest Dance Crazes.

Monday, 21 May 2012

What Makes a Good Documentary Presenter?

April 21st 2012



On Tuesday night Mary Beard meandered onto our screens, peddling the eccentric Cambridge professor stereotype as she pedalled round Rome in the opening of her engaging Meet the Romans series. It struck me that this was the latest in a long line of outstanding factual series from the BBC, and so I decided to take a closer look at the different ways that they have hit upon a magic combination of fact and finesse in their documentary presenters.

My family and I were instantly entertained by Mary Beard. Not only was she a Trevi fountain of knowledge (I do apologise, it’s not often you can make a Rome pun), but she presented it with the unbridled joy of a slightly bonkers lady that the film crew had stumbled across and proceeded to follow round Rome, recording her excited and informed ramblings. At one point she told us that as she read tombstone inscriptions she could hear the voices of the dead Romans. Something tells me she didn’t just mean that as a figure of speech. Roaming round museums manhandling objects, chuckling gleefully at ancient wordplay, acting out a gladiator battle with miniature figurines a propos of nothing; Mary provided a glorious way into the fascinating world of Ancient Rome.

Another factual presenter who trades in a similar manner of enthusiasm is physicist Brian Cox, who rocketed to fame with his love of outer space. Whilst it goes without saying that documentary presenters are going to be passionate about their chosen subject, a special few find a way to infuse that passion in the audience, and Brian’s animated gesticulating and eager grin offered many a window into the wonders of the universe. Of course, in trying to attribute Brian Cox’s popularity merely to his infectious enthusiasm and knack for explaining confusing concepts, I am skirting round the elephant in the room. Brian is also famous for his ‘boyband good looks’, emphasised by many a lingering camera shot. It seems many viewers will become fascinated with any subject if the presenter has nice hair.

I apologise if my praise of Mr Cox sounds slightly disparaging. I don’t mean to discredit him: he’s very intelligent, a talented presenter and, for many, a heartthrob. But I cannot count myself among his legions of fans, because my heart belongs to Louis Theroux. He could make a documentary about soil (he may already have, such is the wide range of subjects he has covered), and I would still watch. His slight awkwardness, his innocent interviewing technique that can coerce all sorts of characters into suddenly blurting out something incriminating, and yes, his lovely face, all combine for me into the perfect documentary presenter. His polite probing into sensitive subjects leads people to reveal more to him than they would to others, and his open-mindedness and genuine interest in the people he meets has led to fascinating documentaries giving an insight into everything from the roughest of American jails to the home of Sir Jimmy Saville. A respectful tolerance for the weird and an ability to appear non-judgemental makes for superb factual television.

When I admitted my obsession with Louis to my sister several years ago she too praised his “doddery yet intelligent manner”, and I felt as if I had stumbled upon an underground religion. I now proudly number amongst his 172 thousand fans on Facebook, a veritable army of those with the good taste to recognise his humour, his consistently thought-provoking documentaries, and yes, his good looks (I won’t hear a word said against them).

Louis, Brian and Mary take on wildly different subject matters in their programmes, but all of them find a way to make their passions accessible and captivating for the audience. So it seems that the secret to being a great documentary presenter is having bundles of knowledge, passion and a lovely, lovely face. And if you haven’t got the latter, a bike and a bonkers demeanour will do just fine.