Detectorists

Detectorists is a lovely example of British television at its best; poignantly humorous yet sensitive, emotionally deep and intensely rewarding.

 

Andy and Lance live in a rural English backwater that superficially seems quiet and uneventful. Writer (and portrayer of Andy) Mackenzie Crook's genius is to show us the rich comic beauty that lies beneath. They are searching for an elusive horde of Saxon gold and the ups and downs they face cleverly mirror the vicissitudes of their journey through life.

 

The pair are intelligent, well-read, avid viewers of highbrow quiz shows but, by the capitalist standards of modern life, serial under-achievers. However, the humour never belittles them. Instead their male slant on life is lent a dry, sometimes morose, and often wistful comic voice. Andy and Lance are highly endearing, their eccentricities laced with humility. Perhaps we see ourselves in them and consider them as easy for us to befriend.

 

The actors are gentle, credible and very English; the rural Suffolk air thick with seeds and insects and pollen. It’s a beautiful setting, far from the ugliness of modernity. What starts as a simple premise, two middle-aged men trudging across fields, gently swinging their detectors while musing on the curiosities of life, develops plots, sub plots and village goings-on that draw you in.

 

We are shown only subtle clues. Nothing is thrust at us. Potentially vital hints at the direction of things to come are hidden away, shown on screen for a split second. Those who get up early to make a cup of tea when they see the closing credits and the viewpoint panning out and up will miss much. Understatement is used powerfully and sits in perfect keeping with the overall mood.

 

The music plays a vital part. The theme tune in the style of old English folk and the incidental variations sit perfectly with ploughed fields, rich earth and Mother Nature. Which other dramas show us close ups of summer meadow flowers, insects and birds?

Two of the three short seasons are on Netflix. Detectorists comes highly recommended as a deceptively powerful piece of television which by rights should win numerous awards. I can't wait to see what Mackenzie Crook dreams up next!

 

PS: Remember, the tools are metal detectors, Andy and Lance are detectorists!

 

Louis Theroux

Louis Theroux is still recognisable as the impish interviewer whose TV documentary career began in 1998, challenging his subjects with, at times, impudent lines of questioning, but his latest films are serious investigative journalism. 'Not Guilty By Reason of Insanity' is a sympathetic exploration of the personalities of inmates in an Ohio prison for the criminally insane. While always giving their heinous crimes appropriately minimal coverage, Louis nevertheless treats his subjects with respect and a degree of compassion.

He made his name examining the strange underbelly of North America, hunting down the weird, the fanatical and the marginalised. UFO spotters, wife-swappers, born again Christians and other whimsical subject matter provided the perfect foil for his slightly tongue-in-cheek approach. The hour-long films work so well because Louis playfully teases his subjects with questions that the discerning viewer will realise are poking fun, yet the interviewees are so devoted to their cause that they are blind to even oblique criticism.

He has a propensity to put himself in positions well outside his comfort zone, willing his audience to join him in his bizarre experiences: entering a lion's cage with a man who keeps big cats for pets; joining in on the set of a porn film; entering the scary realm of modern Nazis. His soft English accent and erudite language skills endear him to the Americans, somehow letting him get away with statements, and the cringe-worthy repetition of boyish questions, for which he would be crucified in his native land. "Can I look at your penis?" "No." "Please?" "No!"All this makes for fascinating viewing, especially to an Englishman.

His style is deceptively smooth. He is easy-going and charming and that allows him to get so close that he can deliver pointed questions. He still tackles fringe subjects but these days they are much more serious. Gone is the title 'Louis Theroux's Weird Weekends' and the almost goofy fun-poking. The frightening arenas of drug addiction, mental health and violent prisons demand challenging questions and the mature Louis steps right up to the mark and asks them.

Bodies... and a dose of Alan Partridge

 

Mini-series such as Criminal Justice, Afterlife and Sea of Souls are quintessentially British. The dialogues involve idiom, regional dialects and slang, yet Susan, western PEI born and bred, has taken them in her stride. I've seen them all before and rate them highly. Occasionally I have paused to explain a peculiar expression, or a specific cultural reference but by and large these dramas, some gritty, some deep, speak to a wide audience. I've gambled and won!

The medical drama Bodies deals with cover-ups and whistle blowers in an Obstetrics and Gynecology Ward. Acting is top notch, the situations credible and the reality unflinching. Graphic scenes abound: sexual intimacy, childbirth and surgery feature in every episode. There is maternity, death, catastrophic error, eroticism and from the mouth of surgeon Tony Whitman (Keith Allen), sledgehammer wit and brutal sarcasm. Like all good TV it quits while it's ahead and leaves you wanting more.

In stark contrast and by way of an antidote I threw in Alan Partridge, Season 2 (which is where the wretched and cringe-worthy character really gets into his stride). The humour is biting, even ugly at times but well within the bounds of decency and always peppered with irony. I felt it would appeal to its new Canadian audience, and it did. I know the script by heart and we laughed like drains!

By way of a periodic cleanse of the palate we take in episodes of BBC property show Escape to the Country, a beautifully gentle series where city dwellers hope to adopt rural life. Needless to say we tear the house hunters and their foibles to shreds. It's a great way for a Canadian to see the beauty of rural UK from her armchair, pick out cultural differences in furnishing and decor, not to mention gasp at the lack of storage space, no basements, miniature fridges, and washing machines in the kitchen. Such fun, and a great way to enjoy snowbound storm days!

Poldark

1975 was a year of exciting innovative TV. So does it still feel that way forty years later? I pulled out my box set of Poldark, a darkly romantic saga charting the ups and downs of 18th century Cornish gentry. Back in the day it was compulsive viewing but my anticipated nostalgia trip fell flat. Frankly, although the story is cute, the production values are ludicrously dated. It has the feel of a cheap theatre production, all stationary camera views and big projected voices! The lighting is absurd; since when did candlelight illuminate the tops of heads, still less follow people around! How did I not notice in 1975. Maybe we settled for less more easily. We certainly expected dramatic music and crashing waves in our opening credits!

The best modern programming has set the bar so high that older material doesn't compare at all well; the acting is pedestrian and somewhat lame. Sadly abandoning the dated period drama Poldark, I sought solace in its 1975 companion, the John Cleese penned Fawlty Towers and had much better luck. Not only is the comedy timeless, and a landmark example of British humour, loaded with sarcasm and irony, but the acting is plausible and realistic. While never crude, the humour is direct, and downright startling at times; something to savour and relish in these pathetic days of political correctness. I'd go further, much of my own (mostly hidden from view) comic persona is drawn from the biting sarcasm and eccentric reactions of "Basil Fawlty"!

Between these two widely divergent stalwarts of 70's TV, there is a curious connection: Robin Ellis appeared in both. Obviously he is forever known as the swashbuckling, handsome, lover and tin miner Ross Poldark, but perhaps few remember that he made a guest appearance in the first episode of Fawlty Towers, as the undercover Cockney cop on the trail of con-artist Lord Melbury.

Forty years has a habit of changing things. Robin Ellis, now 72, lives in France and writes cookery books; the gorgeous Angharad Rees (his screen wife Demelza Poldark) sadly died recently at 63. Sybil Fawlty (the marvellous Prunella Scales, aged 82), veteran nagger, and foil for Basil's acerbic humour, has Alzheimer's. John Cleese divorced his first wife and co-writer, American Connie Booth, and is currently entertaining wife number four.

sound and vision

I consider myself technologically minded but configuring a home theatre set-up has had me scratching my head. The theory is easy, plug the dvd/cd/blu ray player into the receiver; connect the receiver to the TV; wire five speakers and a sub woofer into the receiver. By now you should be enjoying sumptuous surround sound and glorious technicolour...

Well, nearly!

I should mention there are a mind-boggling eighty three inputs/outputs on the back panel of my new receiver, and several methods of connecting various devices each using different cable types. You can even mix and match the connections.

I went with the latest connectors, HDMI (Hi-Def Multimedia Interface). Far fewer plugs and lengths of cabling to wrestle with and supposedly the best carrier of audio/video signals. However, research showed me that SACDs (Super Audio CDs), which carry vastly more audio data than their standard cousins, require six analogue audio connectors to carry discreet 5.1 surround sound signals. No problem, I ordered those and dutifully used them to connect my DVD/SACD player to the new

receiver.

The TV was relatively simple to calibrate and soon displayed a good picture but try as I might I could not get sounds I was happy with through the receiver. Yes the five speakers and the sub woofer were making lots of noise but when listening to a 5.1 surround sound DVD Audio version of the 1973 classic Tubular Bells Viv Stanshall's quintessentially British accent was conpicuous by its absence when I know he should have been listing each instrument by name as it joins the crescendo near the end of "side one." Incredibly there were no f$%*ing Tubular Bells at the point when they should have been clanging loud enough to wake the dead!

Clearly something was wrong. I could get the right sound if I selected the multi-channel input but only a thin, weird sounding version with many of the instruments missing if I selected the HDMI input. What's more the multi-channel input supplied no video image whereas it should have been showing a delightful and slowly rotating tubular bell against a changing sky. After much thinking, ploughing through a maze of on screen menus and studying the one hundred and twenty-two page manual, the penny finally dropped. My Cambridge Audio DVD player is barely three years old but the pace of technological progress has been frantic. Perhaps it can't send surround sound signals through its HDMI output. (Note: I researched this later and found my DVD player uses HDMI version 1.1 and we are already up to version 1.4).

More jiggery pokery with the on screen menus and I was deep within the configuration files. I discovered I could select sound from the multi-channel input and video from the HDMI, a combination which finally solved the problem. Sound and vision are now everything I had hoped for!

I have several SACDs and Music DVDs which, as well as the usual stereo track, carry an additional layer mixed for surround sound. That layer has previously been inaccessible to me but listening now to re-masters of old classics like Dark Side of the Moon, Brothers in Arms and the aforementioned Tubular Bells is a revelation. It really is total immersion in the music. Sounds which were buried in the stereo mix come alive in the 5.1 mix making these old favourites sound fresh and new.

Now that I am beginning to understand the sound set up I have been able to turn my attention to wall-mounting the speakers, hiding the speaker wire in conduit, coiling excess wiring behind the appliances and securing the coils with zip ties. Soon I can think about installing the back to the shelf unit. I now know where all the wires will need to exit and whereabouts there I need to drill slots to carry connectors from one shelf to another. I don’t plan to use the bag of tiny nails which came with the shelf but will probably screw mirror supports in place so that the back can come off with the minimum of fuss.

Who knows, one day we may be able to sit back and enjoy films and music. What a wild and crazy idea!

Library on a pin head

I'm feeling somewhat disjointed. Picture, title, text and lyric have only tenuous links. Things are getting smaller and thinner and have fewer obvious controls. Soon we will operate stuff by merely thinking about it. Anyway this year's batteries have worn out and the new gadgets are broken so I watch the swirling dry leaves and gaze at the ice blue sky and think about winter. Somehow I need to restart the generator and drive some effort into the New Year. Will this be the year that brings contentment? Let's get through to spring first, nothing much happens before then.

I don't go to the cinema because it is full of people and the films are too long. I like to watch in the comfort of my own home with a pause button. I loved "X-Files" when it first screened on Sky TV in the UK in 1993. But by Season Three it was given a primetime slot on BBC1 and cult status had definitely worn off. "Quit while you're ahead" doesn't seem to apply when there are commercial pressures being brought to bear. I sweated out a couple more Seasons with diminishing interest as the golden goose dropped base metal eggs until director Chris Carter let loose his creative attention on "Millennium." It was deliciously dark, shadowy, moody and unfathomable, in fact everything "X-Files" no longer was.

Carter had the opportunity to start a new cult and he took it. He continued to churn out Nine Seasons of "X-Files" to appease the masses but sneaked "Millennium" onto our screens with almost no fanfare. I like this form of gritty, realistic drama with a trace of the paranormal. Episodes are delivered in manageable one hour packages, each with a beginning a middle and an end, yet sufficient continuity for me to develop an affinity with the characters and situations. The postman just delivered me a nice chunky boxed set of the complete "Millennium" Seasons One to Three. Something to look forward to.

Each of us has opportunity, we just need to nurture our ability and develop a motive. I started reading blogs over a year ago but barely a handful of my original discoveries survive. So for many there was opportunity and ability but the motive failed. Isn't that the hardest thing, to keep going? Then to keep going and keep going...

We talked about music lately. There are very few artists where I can stick the proverbial pin in their discography, not many cut gem after gem. I chose to review the Bowie album simply because it had a big early influence on me but there are others I could have chosen by different artists. Top of the shortlist might be Pink Floyd, Radiohead or REM there are very few duds in those archives.

For most their star burns brightly and briefly. Sales figures never lie, take a look at any catalogue of hit albums. Run your finger down the "number of weeks on the charts" column and the zenith of an artist's career becomes very apparent. The buying public only parts with cash for months on end when the product is worth it. I won't name names but consider various dinosaurs still lumbering around today and now look at their performance in the 1970s. I think you’ll find a string of two or three number one albums each spending over a year on the charts followed by umpteen releases barely making the lower reaches of the top forty for a month.

The creative peak is very high and very pointed. Very few can sit at the top continually breathing the thin air of success. For the rest I am thankful because they bring variety streaking in low, hard and fast into our mundane lives. They light up our existence and bring inspiration, all credit to them for "burning up on re-entry."

A long, dark January evening stretches out ahead so I’ll settle back into my armchair, laptop close by and perhaps watch an Episode of "Millennium." Later I could surf the music channels to try and catch the next skyrocket, who knows I may enjoy the ride.

"Can you take me back to that
Place where stars glow
Comets swarm like fireflies
Outside your window"The Stills – Lola Stars and Stripes