Glastonbury, Paul and Don

Watching Glastonbury has become an annual treat. Not for me the mud and camp sites, I prefer to watch the music from the pyramid stage on my rectangular TV. I grew up on Prog Rock - the old staple diet of the Pilton Pop Festival (what Glastonbury started out as) so guitar bands are always a draw for me.
I didn't catch everything but loved  Elbow, The Kaiser Chiefs, Pendulum, Cold Play and Laura Marling. Lady B was an astonishing closing act.

My biggest disappointment was seeing Paul Simon struggling with the high notes - a throat infection is not what you want for Glastonbury. But the stand out ageing legend was Don Mclean. His voice got better and better through his set and his extended extended version of American Pie was joyous.
I've remained a big fan for years. As he said from the stage, he is a craftsman - I'd say a master craftsman. He knows how to write a tune and how to wrap the words around it. It was one of those moments that made me feel 17 again.

But back to Paul Simon. My collection of his music is comprehensive, got just about everything there is on CD. As I say I was looking forward to his set but wondered how he'd fair at the UK's biggest festival. He may have played Central Park but Somerset in the daylight is altogether a different proposition.

But it's not his first visit to the West Country. He made some TV shows in Bristol back in the early eighties with my old mentor John King. The BBC studios at Bristol  were small, intimate even. More like a exclusive club atmosphere and that's what they tried to create. But Simon can be a prickly beast and he had a particular worry - and it had nothing to do with the size of the studio or the swaying folk types sitting on bales of hay. No, he was worried about his bald spot being caught on camera. The way John told the story it was the most pressing thing on his mind.

So, John being the maverick that he was, decided there was only one thing for it. He sent a researcher off to the office. Ten minutes later he's standing over one of music's greatest living geniuses filling in his bald spot with a marker pen.

I Could Write A Book

Generally I don't tell civilians I'm a writer. I'm not ashamed, embarrassed or trying to be coy and I'm not trying to hide anything. It's just that the moment someone I don't know asks "What do you do" there's always a beat before I answer. I don't suppose Stephen Poliakoff has this problem, but RLL ain't SP.

Instant honesty causes too many conversations I'd rather not have. If I'm stopped in the street by someone with a clipboard and they ask some questions and then ask what I do, I don't always tell the truth. If I say engineer there's rarely a comeback. I go on my way. If I say engineer no-one says "Really, what are you working on? " But if i say writer they ask 'anything I might have read? then I have to explain I don't write books but TV and film and radio. "Anything I might have seen?' And then we're into how do you think it all up and my brother's been trying to write a sitcom for years, perhaps you could have a look at it, give him some tips on where he's going wrong.

That last one always gets me. I want to shout. Isn't it obvious where he's going wrong, he needs to finish the fucking thing. Sitcoms may take a while to gestate but they don't take years to write.

But I don't shout. I smile, switch to automatic pilot, listen for a few minutes then check my watch. An important meeting always awaits we writers - we wish.

Another response the word "Writer" triggers is, "You should write something about where I work. I tell you, it's hilarious".

"Yeah, what do you do?"

"The abattoir, eleven years. You'd never believe what goes on".

"Tell me".

"Funny stuff. Christ, we barely stop laughing"

"Surely you're not laughing when you're killing cows?"

"No. But the rest of the time, hilarious. You should write it"

"I should write what?"

"The funny stuff".

"Yeah? Tell me".

"Aw, you know, incredible. You'd never believe it".

At this point I want to grab them by the throat and squeeze until they tell me a funny story about the hilarious things that happen in their laugh-a-minute place of work. But I don't. I smile and walk on, hoping that one day the "I could write a book" brigade will actually do that. 

If you are a civilian, a normal person, who has the great good fortune to work somewhere that throws up ten stories a day - write them down. Not everything that happens in the workplace is interesting or funny beyond it, the specific language or environment doesn't always travel - but some of it might. And if you've ever uttered the words "I could write a book" now is the time to do it. With e-books now making real money for their authors - serious money - there's never been a better time.

Which reminds me - I should write a book.

Happy Birthday Candyman

He's been called the Mozart of talk radio. His array of Sony awards is as impressive as it can get. He chooses the music he plays, talks about what he wants to talk about, taps into people's memories and idiosyncrasies and might just be the most naturally talented broadcaster of his generation.

He is the Candyman, Danny Baker, back behind the microphoned having undergone treatment for throat cancer and he is 54 today.

I first encountered his extraordinary talent on the old Radio 5 breakfast show before it became a rolling news and sports network. Up until then I had been a Wogan/Today listener. Once I'd discovered the Bakerman there was no going back. I was commuting from the West Country to BBC Birmingham on a daily basis and I needed something to take my mind off the endless traffic holds ups and roadworks. Discovering Danny Baker was like lifting a heavy carpet and discovering a whole new world beneath it.

He obeyed none of the rules, he'd play a record but then talk all over it, his guests were never interviewed they became part of the mele of the show. Since then I've caught him whenever I can. His Radio London breakfast show was a joy but having won DJ of the year the next day he announced he's had enough, was packing it in. After a few weeks off the air he was back with a Radio London afternoon show juggling the absurdities of life with the surreal and the hilarious. Alhtough he works better with a side-kick it's always his show - he is the captain and he knows where his ship is going.

Though he gets calls and texts and emails he doesn't need them the way some of us do. He can happily fill an hour or two off the top of his head, following rabbits down holes then breaking out into the sunshine of a bright new subject and off he'll go again.

He's an original voice in a wilderness of pap. Where most shows work on the principal of giving the listener the SAME THING EVERDAY, he is a behemoth of constant change. There is so much to learn from this approach but do the radio Mandarins take note? We know the answer to that - "coming up, seven in a row".

His Radio 5 Live show is to be cherrished. There are those who think him a loud-mouth (nope), some sort of drunken cockney shock jock (nope), they could not be more wrong. The accent maybe be Eastend but his use of the language, his general knowledge and ability to think and speak in perfect step - with almost total recall - is sometimes bewildering. How many presenters quote P.G Wodehouse, Dorothy Parker and imagined dialogue from Apocalypse Now and Dad's Army as spoken by Marlon Brando ?

It's that kind of inventiveness that draws me in, that and his abilities as a storyteller. He brings all his talents to bear on a good tale, he knows how to pace the thing, where to embelish, how to wring the comedy from a moment and how to make it come to life with music and effects.

I worked with him once. We made a TV pilot of  pop quiz that never got beyond that. Six month later he was presenting his own chat show on the box. But it's on the radio that he has complete mastery. That someone who lives to talk should have been struck by throat cancer is a terrible thing - there is no god - to have survived it and come out the other side firing on all cylinders is perhaps evidence that there is a god. At least a radio god.


Happy Birthday Candyman.

Surprise

Pop Quiz:

1. What's the moment that everyone remembers from Butch Cassidy and the Sundance kid?

2. What happened to Dr Ramano in ER that had your eyes wide open, mouth agape in astonishment?

3. On The Wire who did you think was going to come out on top, Avon Barksdale or Stringer Bell?

4. What do all these things have in common?

Answers

1. The jump off the cliff (the kick in the balls a close second and the cute bit where Butch rides the bike and BJ Thomas sings third). But everyone remembers the jump off the cliff because no one saw it coming.

2. Ramano, an excellent surgeon and a bastard of a man, had his arm chopped off by a helicopter's tail rotor. Over in seconds. Didn't dwell on the moment. I couldn't breath for a full minute. They did what?

3. Stringer Bell, so when he got shot that came as a big surprise. I thought he'd smooth talk his way out of it - but no. Bam.

4. The greatest tool we have in our bag: SURPRISE.

Shocking an audience or frightening them isn't the same; surprise can pitch up anywhere. Drama, comedy, reality shows, quiz shows, sports, anywhere. And don't we just love it when writers and producers come up with the goods.

Great drama, great comedy relies on taking you one way and then flipping what you thought was going to happen for what actually happens. Bam! Surprise. Seriously, our greatest tool.

So when something comes along that surprises me I walk around with a stupid grin for an hour. Didn't see that coming.

Wit that in mind...try this.

Tha Laugh Track

I caught BBC 1's new prime time comedy series In With The Flynns last night - and had to fight the family to keep watching until the end. I always approach these new shows hoping it'll be great. This wasn't. There's good sit com out there - you just have watch BBC 2 and BBC 4, sometimes Channel 4 - or Sky 1 -  to find them - and from what I've recently read BBC 4 is about to ditch its association with humour.

BBC1 sitcoms seem to leave any semblance of reality in the rehearsal room, that's where very good actors suddenly decide that as this is 'comedy' lots of 'acting funny' is required.

The Flynns may or may not get better - my family won't allow me to watch any more to find out - and frankly I'm busy working my way through a couple of excellent box-sets that will keep my juices flowing for some time to come (Rome and Justified). So, rather than bleat about a lame show what I want to talk about is the presence of a laugh track.

So many comedies play without them these days it seems odd to hear the gales of laughter from 'the studio audience' - or rather the dub. In With The Flynns  has a structure that visually smacks of Modern Family, what it doesn't have is the bravery to let the viewer decide what's funny. Hence the 'laughs'.

I'm not against a laugh track, Cheers, Frasier, Only Fools and Horses, Steptoe, Porridge...all had studio audiences there to laugh along. The odd thing about the laugh track on the Flynn's show was that it pointed up how UN-funny things were.

Which is bizarre.

80% of the laughs on this show must have come from the laugh  machine - and don't listen to BBC producers who say they don't use it, I was a Producer and Exec with BBC Entertainment and it was used all the time - but usually to 'help' the laugh. What I heard last night sounded so artificial because there wasn't anything funny there to laugh at.

And it wasn't me who vocalised it first - but my daughter, "What are they laughing at?"

Some shows benefit from studio laughter - but those shows tend to be the ones that are shot almost entirely in a studio. Longer scenes allow laughter to build - and if you are going for laughs you need tags - and some BIG JOKES. The  moment you write very short scenes that chop between Interiors and Exteriors the laugh track seems wrong.

The excellent Outnumbered is a great example of how to get a contemporary sitcom right - funny - no laugh-track. 

Growing up in England I watched M*A*S*H play without a laugh-track. One night the technician playing in  the VT didn't knock it off and for one episode only it played to a dedicated, loyal, loving and admiring audience with the phoney laughter. The BBC was swamped with complaints. It ruined the show for so many people. It was unnecessary, it got in the way. Larry Gelbart never wanted the bloody thing - but the US Network insisted. How could it be a comedy if no-one laughed? They didn't understand. They were laughing - WE were laughing, at home, in front of our TV screens with no-one to prompt us. I sometimes catch a moment or two of M*A*S*H on Comedy Central, playing with the laughs. I can't take it. It doesn't work for me.

But if I were to watch Frasier or One Foot In The Grave without the warmth of the studio laughter  that  wouldn't work for me either.

So, both work - but you can't have laughter where there isn't funny.

I'm Fed Up With Comic Book Films

 
It was the early 80's, I was twentysomething, working as an Entertainer at a hotel in Brighton. On my day off four of us piled into my tiny car - the flying potato - and headed off to see Superman - The Movie. It was fabulous - I came out believing a man could fly, or at least believing the movies could make a man seem to fly.

My all time flying movie hero is King of the Rocket Men, an old Saturday morning series so bad it's wonderful.Tristram Coffin played Jeff King, a guy who wears a leather flying jacket, a coal scuttle on his head and has controls on his breastplate that say: Up - Down - Fast - Slow.

King of the Rocket Men

But back to that great day in Brighton, I came out with a lump in my throat and joy in my heart, movies had taken a giant leap forward. It was thrilling, it was funny, it was fantastic.

Since then Hollywood has mined almost every character that ever appeared in the comics I read growing up in the sixties and seventies; some good, some bad, some bloody awful.
What Tim Burton did with Batman was extraordinary. What Christopher Nolan did with Batman was exceptional. In a bid to take control of their characters Marvel embarked on a journey that has so far produced some of the better superhero flicks. Their Incredible Hulk was a much better film than Ang Lee's imagining, the two Iron Man films have brought fun along with the thrills and in Robert Downey Jr they have a great actor in a role usually played by a movie star.

Last week I saw Thor. Thor was always my favourite character in my 'Fantastic' comic - I still have every edition sitting in a filing cabinet. Thor isn't a superhero, he's a God, so they brought in Kenneth Brannagh to direct, presumably to give it a Shakespearean authority.

It was okay. It fitted into the run of movies Marvel are making before all these characters get to play together in the Joss Whedon helmed Avengers.

Today I wanted to see Paul Giamatti in Win Win. What i got to see was X Men First Class. My multiplex isn't showing Win Win today and the kids are on holiday so...Magneto drew us in. I wasn't too worried, after all it's directed by Mathew Vaughan and includes Jane Goldman as one of four writers. Vaughan and Goldman were responsible for the extraordinary Kick Ass, a not-really-a-superhero-film so good it felt like a game-changer. The kind of film that makes other films in the genre sit up and take note, like Bourne did to Bond. Sad to say although X Men First Class is okay there's nothing here we haven't see before. Nothing. At all.

If you've sat through a superhero film in the past five years you've seen everything this X Men origin film has to offer. That's not to say it didn't try - it did. The early scenes in a Nazi concentration camp make Magneto's character richer but as it jumps to the 1960's it loses it's touch. Is it a camp Austin Powers movie or a coming of age movie or what? January Jones looks lovely but her Betty Draper (Mad Men)  delivery suggests she has just the one note.

Michael Fassbender is a jolly good Magneto and James McAvoy walks and has hair as the young Charles Xavier. Matthew Vaughn brings what fresh air to the story by going back to to roots of the franchise but....hang on, the first X Men film came out eleven years ago, The Last Stand five years ago. The reboot feels too soon. (Best minute of the film is the cameo by Hugh Jackman).

Don't get me wrong, I've enjoyed many comic book movies but I'm getting really bored with the same old same old. It's the problem they had with Bond - how many times could 007 save the world with three seconds to go? How many times could Superman fly through the clouds to the sound of a soaring string section? What these films did in their early days was to turn two dimensional characters into two and half dimensional characters. At the point in X Men First Class where they cut in footage of JFK and the Cuban missile crisis I'm sorry, I laughed.

Hollywood is not going to stop making these films. Why should they, they make a bank full of money. The dark Knight was as a good a drama as I saw in 2008. I'll be at the head of the cue to see The Dark Knight Rises next year. Nolan's Batman is exceptional. A lot of the comic book movies we've seen recently as a family have been little more than okay.

I'd like a little more Kick Ass and a little less ' that worked last time, let's do it again'.

Actually, what I really would have liked to have seen today was Win Win.