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Small television epiphany | May 26, 2004 19:25
Good to see Steve Maharey giving more or less an assurance that he won't be fiddling with NZ On Air in this week's Listener. I did a similar story a while back about the row that was brewing between the independent television producers and TVNZ over intellectual property and distribution rights. Now that Marty Behrens, the abrasive American who ran TVNZ's business development section, has gone, the issue seems to have died in a ditch, which is a good job.
The independents I talked to were also worried about TVNZ wanting all of the money. Think about it: do you really want TVNZ as the gatekeeper of all the funding? To have control over everything that gets made? Several comments were made to me along the lines of "TVNZ wants to be the only player in town" and worries were expressed that the state broadcaster could play favourites.
Over at TV3, Caterina De Nave said categorically that they wouldn't make any local programming without NZ On Air funding. Tony Holden, TVNZ's Head of Commissioning, who I interviewed, had a crack at TV3, asking whether it was right that the profits from publicly-funded programmes shown on TV3 (from advertising) went offshore to Canada. I guess he wasn't accounting for the fact that the funding also went to independent producers in New Zealand and a lot of people got jobs making The Strip or whatever.
Anyways, this is an interesting one, because there's also a review going on at present of all public broadcasting funding, although we have to wait until the end of the year for its findings.
I'd like to thank Danielle for providing me with a television epiphany. Well. A small one, anyway. She writes in her excellent little blog (those pink Chuckies are bitchin' btw) that her prerequisites for truly enjoying any reality television is "profound hatred for all the show's 'cast members'."
I hate Donald Trump! I hate his hair! I hate his flunkies! I hate the weaselly little fuckers, both male and female, who uncritically yearn to sell their souls to the corporate juggernaut! And they're all so lame! So deeply, deeply lame! Ahhhhhh, it's all so stupid, and directing my scorn to the screen fills me with such glorious warmth. See? If you're basically a horrible person, like me, reality shows are your lifeblood. :)
And that's when I realised that's not what I watch TV for. I don't want to be enraged, there's plenty of stupid fucking mayhem in Iraq to feel just as bad about crap on TV. I think I'm looking for small truths. Anyway, I know I watch television for The Sopranos (can't wait for Steve Buscemi) and probably State of Play, although I'll let you know as I've taped it.
The Letterman list is: Mike Myers on Friday 28th (Shrek 2's been huge) and Blink 182 (eww); Bob Woodward on Monday 31st; Chris Rock on Tuesday 1st; and … well, the rest is quite boring actually.
Actually, I rented Love Actually on the weekend for a bit of light relief, although two and a half hours is more than enough light relief in anyone's language. They could have shortened it by getting rid of that whole Liam Neeson and his son storyline – I mean, really, what 11-year-old talks like that? And in what universe do the niece and nephew of the Prime Minister go to the same school as the tea lady from Wandsworth's family? I suppose the same universe where Notting Hill is really neat and tidy. The script seemed to have popped out of the Richard Curtis random joke generator as well. What a senseless waste of seven bucks.
24 is officially rocking now – the last six weeks of the season got the big 'not too shabby' from Entertainment Weekly. 24's exec producer did admit to having "lost the thread" around the middle. Apparently Kiefer Sutherland said around the 12th episode he couldn't do the heroin storyline much longer – have you noticed he's not sweating so much lately? Television Without Pity's recaps are worth it for the nicknames alone – Chase is known as "Special Agent Charlie Brown".
Smacking the clowns | May 19, 2004 10:21
I've never met Oliver Driver, but I'm liking the cut of his jib. Not only did he have an excellent clown fight on Serial Killers on Friday ("Hey, when you get the chance to smack a clown, you take it."), but he fronted Frontseat on Sunday in a discerning and occasionally self-deprecating manner.
Okay, so we might be a bit biased towards new arts show Frontseat, as its producer is a friend of Public Address and may even be related to one of us, but dammit, it actually went out and did stories, which is more than you can say for mainstream television, which contents itself with visual press releases for whatever's in town at the moment.
Actually it's not quite true that I haven't met Oliver Driver, he sat at the same table at the bNets a couple of years ago. After the prizegiving, I scarpered to talk to people I knew, and when I got back he was sitting in my chair with a woman humping his leg and I had to grovel at both their feet in order to extricate my bag from under the table. Ah, the bNets.
In other news, the show has ended but the website lingers on: Idolblog is contenting itself with stories about Ben and the others, including an excellent spoof cover of the single (wouldn't you love to see the alternative shot they must have taken of Michael?). They also have a story about going to a VIP concert featuring the Idols and meeting John Barnett and Andy Shaw from SPP.
The Idolblog phenomenon has parallels with Lord of the Rings, which early on wasn't happy with theonering.net, but finally invited Erica Challis to see sets in Wellington. It's just not a good look to be serving your biggest fan with a trespass notice.
After being initially threatened by the internet, production companies, especially in the US, have realised that fans, and especially the fansites, drive the buzz about shows and that, as much as they'd like to, they can't control everything related to their productions. You can probably measure success in how many websites spring up (and in the US they do so, alarmingly quickly). It's fair enough that sites shouldn't publish copyright pictures, but it's good to see SPP welcoming the Idolbloggers.
Speaking of not being able to control everything, here's a site that loves The West Wing so much, it wants to kill it. Don't Save Our Show is a site dedicated to the Aaron Sorkin-executed West Wing and wants NBC to remove "John Wells' unrecognisable version from the air".
Speaking of press releases, I won't bore you with the full script of a press release I got from TVNZ about Shortland Street, which is part of a package I receive every week. It featured quotes from actor Michael Galvin regarding the new nanny character – however, if you turned to page 19 of the Sunday News (the 16th), you'd be able to read it almost word for word – except for the part where the writer, Ellen Davies, says that "Michael told the Sunday News."
TV Gal on Zap2it.com, a Buffy and Angel lifer, laments the passing of Angel and counts down her 15 favourite eps. Some are spoilers for us (check the date before reading on), but many are old ones. She points out that the network was the big bad for Angel, giving it four different time slots in five years.
Matt and Trey are releasing South Park's greatest religious hits on DVD at the same time as The Passion of the Christ will be released. The New York Post calls their spoof ep "The Passion of the Jew" a classic in this story. Hope C4 gets the new season soon.
The CSI franchise rolls on in the US, and I must say, it's more fun that Law & Order don't you think? The same way they introduced CSI: Miami, they're playing team tag with CSI: New York -- David Caruso will go to New York to see investigators (Gary Sinise and Melina Kanakaredes) there. I doubt we'll see the New York franchise until next year; it was a coup getting Gary Sinise, I'm picking he'll be the thing that saves it.
The BBC's Panorama programme has broadcast a mock terrorist attack on London and copped some flak for it. But even better than that is the news that Spitting Image is planning a comeback. And I've had emails in the past about the Sunday Theatre slot being full of god-awful thrillers and such; the new controller of BBC2 has promised a return to landmark drama and documentaries.
Lastly, I guess the Havo's Quality Time must have been kicking action girl Sydney's butt, hence Alias's move to Monday nights at 10.30pm – but how many disease-of-the-weeks does TV2 have up its programming sleeve with which to fight Havoc? The 200-pound tumour? That was just sick medical porn – it almost makes ordinary porn look healthy.
Oh God | May 14, 2004 11:43
Mention of new reality shows, or reality shows in general, always makes me feel like Blackadder whenever Baldrick says "I have a cunning plan." Imagine that sardonic tone: "Oh God." American Idol? Oh God. Fear Factor's coming back? Oh God, no. The Player hosted by Nicky Watson? Oh God, no, please.
However, some sicker individuals than me are actually able to sit through entire hours of this crap without attempting self harm afterwards. Ant Timpson still loves that Paradise Hotel:
You should have taken my advice and stayed with Paradise Hotel, which last week aced itself by being one of the most evil slices of reality TV by inviting all of the show's previous losers (who have sat at home watching the ongoing show in a fury) back on for a limited time. Cue verbal assaults and threats of physical violence. It made the temper tantrums of Temptation Island look like outtakes from an Olsen twins flick. Sick, very sick.
The Apprentice is solid entertainment. Burnett knows how to put reality TV together like no other producer. He turns it into good drama.
Oh God.
Robyn Gallagher is very excited about Big Brother, which Prime has taken up (TV2 is probably too busy with American Idol):
Two of the housemates are parents, and already it's been rumoured that Aphrodite and Igor are secretly married. Not only that, but Krystal the ex-stripper revealed that her stage name was Delta (not the other way around).
This year the old executive producer Peter Abbott has left and former McLeod's Daughters producer Kris Noble has taken over, but I suspect we'll be the same old nudie shower antics and spa pool shenanigans. But that's how I like it.
Oh God. What can I say? I find reality TV, in general, utterly, monumentally, stupendously, stratospherically boring. I just don't care about a bunch of people I have no wish to meet playing meaningless games for money, people whose only distinguishing features are their deep shallowness and their utter self-absorption. It's no surprise that the US, the most self-absorbed nation on earth, is the progenitor of most of this garbage, and when it wasn't their idea, they've taken one, run with it and spewed it back. An hour watching Survivor is an hour you'll never get back. And before you say it; my only interest in watching NZ Idol was because it featured New Zealanders.
On the other hand, the US, the most self-absorbed nation on earth, can produce the brilliance of Six Feet Under and The Sopranos, the American Dream confronted, investigated and utterly fucked around with. Then of course there's Buffy.
Speaking of the Whedonverse, here's an Ain't It Cool News report from sci-fi awards Saturn Awards, where LotR won a few, and also Joss Whedon for Angel and Firefly.
Also this story from the NY Times about spoilers. The whole internet is one big spoiler for us, as we're behind the US on most shows, but interesting nonetheless.
Loathe as I am to give away journalism's little secrets, looking on the NZ On Air website is a good way of checking out where the money's going and what programmes we can expect in the distant future. South Pacific Pictures got over $1.8m in December to make a children's drama called Maddigan's Fantasia; The Gibson Group (The Insiders Guide to Happiness) got over $1.2m for a comedy series called Facelift and Great Southern Television just got a squidge over $281,000 to also do a comedy series called The Unauthorised History of New Zealand.
Btw, has anyone got the hang of TV3's new weather graphics? I'm buggered if I have. The temperatures pop up like shooting gallery ducks at the fair, which makes me think they should be accompanied by a series of clangs and pings -- and the offer of a free stuffed animal to induce me to carry on watching. They sure need something.
It's like gaydar | May 10, 2004 10:57
I know there are Angel fans are out there. They sneak in every now and then with comments, they swap tapes like a secret society (I should know) and every now and then they bump into each other and – it's like gaydar – divine a fellow fan. Some are even men, which is unusual, as men and drama don't always mix.
They're definitely there, because the boyfriend tried to buy Angel season 4 on DVD for my birthday and it was all sold out. "Our distributor doesn't seem to have any left either," said the guy behind the counter. Presumably, TV3, which is half-way through showing season 4 late on Wednesday nights, hasn't noticed this straight commercial conflict, although in the US DVDs are held back until the series have done their dash repeating on cable – we could buy or rent Buffy and Angel on DVD well before the US.
It was Andrew Dubber who alerted us, "Wow. Recommended." he said after a marathon weekend watching the second half of the season, and if it's anything like last Wednesday's episode, omigod. It had more of a Buffy feel, with Gunn and Connor digging up a demon and Gunn quipping, "Sometimes you just gotta keep whacking," when it took a little while to kill the little bugger.
In classic Whedon style, giant rifts are being wrought in the gang by the newly-minted Angelus. His weapon? The truth. Mix it up with some great lines (he prefers a chase before catching his victims: "Isn't there any fast food left in LA?"), a bit of kung-fu fighting, and then a shock ending: Cordy's gone over to the Dark Side! She stabs Lilah in the neck with the Beast's dagger! Now who's top bitch?!
I do know it seems like a secret club though. You either get it or you don't. It's not like ER, where the parameters are defined and the world is easily understood. It hasn't been easy for Angel to pick up new viewers in the US, ultimately its undoing. Plus, it costs quite a lot for all that latex on people's faces.
We're a Ben household; Michael should be investigated for the murder of several songs, including "Dock of the Bay" and "One", the latter being a world-weary relationship song that cannot be sung by a 17-year-old. I didn't think they'd be retreading the same songs, and outfits, last night, although I guess five completely new songs is a big ask. Idolblog was running hot on Ben last time I looked. However, having been completely wrong about Camillia, I've probably jinxed Ben already.
If you just can't get enough Idol, American Idol starts straight after NZ Idol ends. And in shock news just to hand, a new local arts programme is starting on the 16th. It's called Frontseat, it's hosted by Oliver Driver and is produced by Gemma Gracewood. Also, Kim Hill is talking to John Clark (writer, humourist, actor, Fred Dagg) on Wednesday night.
I wrote a couple of weeks ago (in e.g.) about how reality shows are taking over from dramas now in the US (12 of the top 20 shows are reality). Here's a slightly tongue-in-cheek story about how the pilots for new series are decided upon. Remember, these are the new shows that you and I will be seeing next year …
Jolisa sends this link about what happened in writer Keith Hollihan's building when The Apprentice came to visit. And here's a Guardian story about the aftermath of a Channel 4 reality TV visit to the small northern town of Silsden. And you've gotta love the French farmers. Why write letters, when violent protest will do? They're threatening to wreck the set of reality show La Ferme Celebrites, or Celebrity Farm, because it's an outrage to their noble farming tradition.
Thanks to Heather for the link to her blog freshtrifle.blogspot.com. Sorry it's taken a while to get to that, Heather.
The Letterman list is fairly boring again, except David Byrne appears on Wednesday, maverick senator John McCain on Thursday and Hugh Jackman on Friday.
And thanks to everyone who wished me a happy birthday; it was, although we saw average comedy and had an average meal. But hey, at my age, a night out's a night out, you know?
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