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All these people thirst for
knowledge and they could get it
from a device which demands
the attention of millions -
a machine capable of slinging images
and sounds into every home.
TV could teach you a new language,
parade the entirety of history
in front of your face,
or just distract you
with brightly-coloured bibble.
We all want to fill our brains
with information, yet only few of us
know as much as we think we know.
How much do you know?
What, the whole thing?
About 20%, 25%.
OK, what did everyone
in the world do yesterday?
I don't know.
You don't know any of that? No.
How many atoms are there in the
floorboards you're standing on?
Do you see what I'm getting at?
Yeah.
Maybe we never really learned
anything from TV, but were
simply transfixed by it,
like apes dazzled by technology.
This week, How TV Ruined Your Life,
by trying to actually
tell you stuff.
Don't say, it didn't.
It did.
This programme contains adult humour
EXPECTANT INTRODUCTORY MUSIC
'I'm going on a journey -
'a journey to find out just how much
I've learned from television.
'It's a journey that will take me
the length and breadth of part
of the country,
'over a period of time.
'
EXPECTANT INTRODUCTORY MUSIC
STOPS SUDDENLY
Sorry, I've just remembered.
I don't know how to drive.
What's that?
I can't drive.
This isn't
This isn't my car.
I'm not qualified to drive.
'Along the way, I'll be overcoming
obstacles and doing my best
to appear thoughtful,
'as though I'm coming to some
sort of realisation about the visual
language through which TV experts
'impart their knowledge -
and not just staring stupidly
out of a window.
'A thoughtful face might make me
look like a documentary type,'
like Andrew Marr, seen here
stylishly walking around America,
'in fascinating sequences,
shot for a politics documentary.
He walks around and stops and looks
at things and thinks for a bit
and then walks out of shot
and then marches like a Terminator
looking for a toilet,
striding up stairs,
gliding through sliding doors,
getting reflected in glass.
All the time,
he looks rather profound,
even when he's having a ***.
'I hope I look that convincing, as
I walk into this railway station.
'
Television is a bit like
a busy railway terminus,
filled with competing,
bustling, streams of information,
each capable of snaking out
in different directions,
much like branch lines.
'It's not, really,
but that gave me something
vaguely philosophical to say'
'over these pedestrian shots
of me getting onto a train,'
where I start my journey
by looking intently at a newspaper,
'because the world of TV knowledge
basically started with the news.
'
Early news broadcasts were stern
announcements from the authorities,
consisting of little more
than still photographs
and explanatory diagrams,
backed with a vocal summary.
The BBC news wallahs believed
moving pictures would distract
the viewer and prevent them from
absorbing the informational content.
Gradually, TV news loosened
up and began to realise the
advantages it had over newsprint.
Unlike their medieval
ink and paper counterparts,
TV reporters could use
the moving image to make
otherwise mundane stories
more interesting and immersive.
This filthy smoke and chemical smog
is again attacking the people
for whom there's most danger, the
people with chest and heart trouble.
The translation of news into TV
grew more sophisticated.
The newsroom arrived
and more interesting graphics
and instead of a letters page,
vox pops with the public.
Can I interrupt you a tick?
Are your prices up a lot? Yes, sir.
Our prices are up according to
the transport and difficulties
in getting it, and us pulling our
guts out to fetch it to the public.
And when major events occurred,
the printing press was left
standing by television,
which could interrupt you
in your own home to depress
the *** off you.
Over to the newsroom.
The death of John F Kennedy
happened in Dallas at 25 past 12.
What's more, rather than
reading wordy dispatches
from overseas war reporters,
TV viewers could follow
the journalists into the action.
They needn't even wait
for the gunfire to stop
before filing their reports.
EXPLOSION
There's heavy artillery support
for the Americans and
EXPLOSION
.
.
because of this, they're not
immediately likely to lose out here.
TV news grew even more dynamic,
as colour television arrived,
making events seem increasingly
vivid and dispiriting and brutal
and all horrible, like -
unless, like me,
you enjoy a nice riot,
with a lovely shepherd's pie
and a glass of chocolate milk.
Riot police were extremely fierce,
often vicious.
He-he!
It happened ages ago, it's funny!
Faced with a medium that made
current affairs more exciting,
newspapers were forced to zhush up
their own content,
downplaying their comparatively
dry news material
and adding frothier piffle,
which was proudly, and exhaustively,
trumpeted in the gaudy adverts
of the time.
Uncanny
Unbelievable
This man claims a Welsh housewife,
under hypnosis,
returned to six previous lives.
Can this be so?
The amazing evidence
in tomorrow's Sunday Mirror.
Tommy Steele reveals the agony
of staying at the top
and girls
How to get your man.
A dozen ways to look more sexy.
Plus, win this dream outfit, in the
marvellous Sunday Mirror, tomorrow.
But television wasn't content to
simply provide a window on the world
to show what was happening now.
It had grander ambitions.
It wanted to show you
the whole of civilisation.
Landmark documentary serials,
such as Civilisation
and the epic, The Ascent Of Man
turned your TV into
a home-based lecture theatre,
but a bit less boring
than I've made that sound.
The Ascent Of Man, in particular,
was a huge achievement.
Filmed over three years, it
whisked the viewer around the globe,
in the company of erudite academic,
Jacob Bronowski, who explained
the history of mankind's
scientific advancement,
using eloquent monologues,
pioneering computer graphics
and an intelligent use of imagery,
to make education fun.
As well as landmark documentaries
about real events,
there were landmark dramas
based on real events.
When TV turned history into drama,
it cast Shakespearean actors
and dressed them like tapestries.
Even though it was cheap and stagy,
it was somehow convincing.
I mean, that's barely a tree,
that's not outdoors, but bloody
hell, that might be Henry VIII.
Television's mix of compelling
fact and authentic drama was
instructing viewers of all ages.
The television started instructing
me back when I was a kiddiewink.
Occasionally, a TV would be
wheeled into the classroom,
a bit like a robot teacher.
This was exciting because it
didn't feel like school.
It felt like a break.
Even if the programme you
were watching was boring,
it was better than being
bored by a live human being.
With their storybook visuals
and focus on primary concept,
schools programmes were an
attempt to subtly plant fresh
questions in kiddiewinks' minds.
Questions they'd
never considered before.
Hello.
Have you ever thought
how important numbers are?
No.
Have you ever noticed how
interesting human faces are?
No.
Have you tried looking at
yourself in a kettle since last week?
Well, yeah, actually, I have.
The trouble is, the presenters'
methodical basic use of language
is inherently creepy.
Yes
ter day.
It's a bit like you're coming
around from a brain injury
and they're a bunch of well-meaning
nurses sent to rehabilitate you.
Hello.
Did you comb your hair
when you got up this morning?
I forgot, so I'm doing it now.
I'm not sure why,
but whenever I watch them,
I feel a bit like I'm a homicide
detective and they're a suspect
trying to act natural.
Hello.
I didn't expect to see you.
The shop's not open, I'm afraid.
You
can see what I'm doing, if you like.
Where were you
on the night of the 6th?!
If the presenters
weren't creepy enough,
their various puppety, animated
co-stars were downright petrifying.
Let's go in.
Woo! Get out!
Whenever your TV turns into an
instructive words and pictures
light show,
there's something faintly sinister.
What with the haunting music and
visuals and the faintly medicated
air of some of the presenters,
I think the only thing I learnt
was to mistrust everyone
and everything on television.
Why don't you draw a picture of
something that really frightens you?
Yeah, all right.
What does a *** look like?
SCRIBBLING
'But while schools programmes
were unintentionally frightening,
'it's worth reflecting,
as I sit here, that television
often deliberately used
'fear-mongering means
to train younger viewers
to look after themselves.
'
In 1977, rural areas of the UK
were treated to Apaches -
very much the Citizen Kane
of terrifying, educational films.
This 50-minute summer holiday
snuff-fest told the story
of a gaggle of young dimbos,
who repeatedly go to play on a local
farm, despite the fact that one
of them dies there every bloody day.
Like all good movies,
Apaches had its own trailer,
seen here squashing one of the cast.
Argh!
A few years after Britain's rustic
kids stared at carnage in horror,
across the Pond,
children were subjected
to an even more terrifying
and lurid kind of warning.
This is my future? It is if
you don't get of those drugs.
Cartoon All-Stars To The Rescue
is the powerful story of a teenager
dealing with
drug and alcohol abuse.
Some of your favourite cartoon
characters will help you understand
how drugs and alcohol
can ruin your life.
BLEEP me, I want some ***.
This crude, alarmist TV propaganda
was a bad trip for millions
of American kids.
Of course, we didn't get to see that
on this side of the Pond, which is
why we're all so well-adjusted,
but we got moral instruction
from other cartoons.
For instance, almost every line
of dialogue in the garish epic,
Thundercats, seem to be jammed
with so much heavy-handed
moral guidance,
it's amazing there was room
for the vowels and consonants.
Rules are only meaningful
if people agree to follow them.
Otherwise, they're just words.
Oh, go and edit The Guardian.
But perhaps the most strident moral
supervision was smuggled inside the
animated epic He-Man,
which was preachier here than nine
priests glued to a schoolmaster,
and which regularly culminated in a
philosophical lecture
from one of its stars.
As we've just seen,
Skeletor went back into the
past to make evil things happen.
In reality, no-one can go back into
the past, that's only make-believe.
Don't patronise me, I'm not stupid,
although I am 39
and bickering with He-Man.
But we can try to
learn from the past,
from things that have happened to us.
I'd love to know what happened
to make you dress like that.
I'm
guessing something with his uncle.
Of course, we fondly remember He-Man
because we learned so much from it,
just as we fondly remember
the cartoon based on Terry Wogan's
chat show from the '80s.
Everyone remembers that,
just ask the man in the street.
Do you remember the
Wogan cartoon in the '80s?
The Wogan cartoon No, I don't,
but I remember the cartoons
from the '80s, in my day,
was ThunderCats,
Jayce And The Wheeled Warriors,
***-Doo Mysteries, er
But the Wogan thing was like
an animated version
of Terry Wogan's chat show.
It was called Wo-Gan.
Oh, yeah, do you know what?
Thinking about it, yeah, I do
actually remember that now,
I think it was on CITV.
In today's story, we heard the
actress Lorraine Chase explain how
people often judge her
because of her cockney accent.
They treat her as
though she's simple,
even though before becoming a model,
she invented the communications
satellite, the shoe tree
and even the laser cow.
Lorraine is living proof that you
shouldn't judge a book by its cover,
even a talking book
with heavy mascara.
What about one in a ten-gallon hat?
Even you, JR!
HE LAUGHS
Oh, yeah!
HE LAUGHS DEMONICALLY
But I suppose the Wo-Gan cartoon
doesn't actually tell us much
because it was in fact part
of a fictional daydream I had
while gazing out of this window.
This line between fiction and fact
on television used to be clearly
marked until it began to leave
such familiar territory behind to
move into new, less concrete areas.
Viewers generally believed what
they saw on screen, even though TV
occasionally told entertaining fibs,
such as the famous Panorama report
on the Italian spaghetti harvest.
But in 1977, Anglia TV when several
leagues further with Alternative 3,
a sophisticated hour-long hoax in
the style of an existing documentary
strand called Science Report.
It made eerily convincing claims
that a shadowy cabal of scientists
and world governments were
conspiring to build a habitable base
on the surface of Mars, and it ended
with what purported to be footage of
a US-Soviet Martian landing in 1962,
culminating in something creepy
wriggling around beneath
the Martian soil.
My God, what is that?
Something moving!
But the row that followed
Alternative 3 was nothing
compared to the stink left
behind after the BBC's Ghostwatch.
Although scripted, Ghostwatch took
the form of a live supernatural TV
special fronted by several familiar,
well-loved faces, Michael Parkinson,
Mike Smith and Sarah Greene.
But it also played host to a more
sinister and unsettling presence.
Boo!
I bet that scared you, didn't it?
No, this is not a mask,
this is Craig Charles live,
you lucky people!
Oh, and there was also a ghost,
an evil spirit known as Mr Pipes,
who, it was alleged, was causing
simply dreadful goings-on
in a north London home.
At the time, viewers weren't
accustomed to this kind of
verite horror, and as all hell quite
literally broke loose on location,
and things grew increasingly
horrible in the studio,
the repeated fleeting appearances of
Mr Pipes, seen here in the bedroom,
here reflected in the glass and here
on CCTV, left many viewers genuinely
terrified out of their wits.
In the days before Sky+, it wasn't
possible to rewind and check that
you'd seen what you thought you'd
just seen, and Ghostwatch
knowingly toyed with viewers,
replaying footage of one of Pipes's
appearances later with him missing
so that viewers would start to think
they were seeing things.
Can we go forward slowly?
Sure, sure.
We're doing that now.
Is that slow enough? Uh-huh.
I can't see anything
now myself, false alarm?
Things reached a chilling conclusion
as it transpired the broadcast
itself was acting as a nationwide
seance channelling evil forces
and Michael Parkinson was left
wandering round an abandoned studio
like a Yorkshireman possessed.
SCREECHING
After Ghostwatch was broadcast,
many were furious to discover they'd
been tricked by a cunning
blurring of fact and fiction.
You used factual presenters, you
meant to be deceiving.
You toyed with the emotions of
the audience because the audience
weren't actually sure, I wasn't, if
it was fact or fiction.
Ghostwatch had confused people
by being a piece of fictional
entertainment masquerading as fact.
Shortly afterwards, a new genre in
which fact masqueraded as fictional
entertainment, rose in popularity.
Nosey parker fly on
the wall documentary
series exemplified by the original
had been around for several decades.
It's going to be a tremendous
intrusion into your privacy
because we will film everything.
But during the 90s, they morphed
into a populist
new genre, the docusoap which made
stars of regular
incompetent people spoons such as
Maureen Reece from Driving School.
Woah, woahh, for Christ's sake.
She nearly killed someone.
Before long, docusoaps were focusing
more heavily on the soap aspect,
turning their participants
into bona-fide stars.
This lady, she's going to be a
very big star, she really is.
A wonderful talent.
Ladies and
gentlemen, Miss Jane McDonald.
These were documentaries with
all the factual information
stripped out, well nearly all.
There was still room
for the odd statistic.
By the end of this week,
you'll have eaten, in total,
ã40,000 of meat and poultry.
Imagine if when the passengers
shat it all out, it came out the
back of the ship in a long,
unbroken *** rope, like the
ones that hang off goldfish.
Anyway, that's a side
thought, best to ignore it.
And just as documentaries
were under pressure to become
more populist, so was the news.
Ever since satellite news
first appeared, the landscape
had become more competitive and
the fight for impact intensified.
This is Sky News.
10 Britons will
sell their kidneys to this man.
As a consequence across the board,
the graphics steadily became
more fearsome and bombastic.
The sets
more cavernous and self-important
and the delivery more theatrical.
The Liberal Democrats have
accused the other two parties
of gazing into the gutter.
And part of this more crowd pleasing
approach was that the opinion of the
viewer grew steadily more important.
This situation reached a
peak in 1997 after the
death of Princess Diana,
when the opinion of the man in the
street actually became the emotive
focus of much of the news coverage.
Good evening, it's been a day like no
other, a day for the people stunned
by the news of Diana's death and a
day that rewrote the rules about
how a grieving nation should react.
The outpouring of emotion
just grows by the day.
The Queen's not in residence today
but where the hell is the flag hey?
You see what I'm saying
about the Establishment?
Current affairs was
no longer a stern proclamation from
the establishment and was becoming
more like a public sounding board.
News in general had started to move
away from explaining the world to us
and move towards us explaining
our view of the world to them.
If you've got a story to tell,
we'd love to hear from you.
The e-mail address
as always, your news.
All the while the internet
were starting to overtake TV
as the source of instant news
and just as newspapers reacted
to TV by becoming spicier,
TV news morphed into rolling news
in which everything became a
sensational non-stop crisis full of
incremental, horrible developments.
We can now tell you that he's
actually unconscious and his
kidneys have stopped working.
It's become a hope sapping broadcast
from the depression dimension when
someone simply reads aloud a list
of the worst events in the world.
He killed his 74 year-old grand
mother, also his mother, his uncle,
his cousin,
his 15 year-old second cousin.
In addition, he killed
a baby who was 18 months old,
CHARLIE GROANS
he killed the sheriff deputy's wife,
he killed two pedestrians, he killed
a petrol station assistant, he
killed a motorist, he shot the chief
of police and he shot himself.
I'll
let you digest that for a moment.
We're going to be back
with all the top stories and indeed
the business news.
Thanks for that.
Today's news often seems to be about
nothing but the thrill of the chase,
an endless parade of fresh
horror piled upon fresh horror.
No time for
reflection, just pictures.
Look at this, then look at this,
come on tune in rubberneckers,
have a bloody good gawp.
We'll just come
underneath this cordon.
Barry the cameraman,
can you get under here?
Forgive the camera just
moving around.
Soon it becomes meaningless which
has the side-effect of making
reality itself feel somehow unreal,
like a work of fiction writing
itself a destiny beyond our control.
All we can do is stare at
it in stunned desperation.
If 24 hour news was stranding
viewers in a nihilistic wilderness,
the other source of knowledge,
the TV documentary had changed too.
Where once documentary experts were
expected to speak and walk around
like academics, there's a growing
assumption that today's viewer
won't pay attention to facts
unless there's a star attached,
preferably one with a
shaky link to the subject.
For instance, because the actor,
Ross Kemp, played a hard ex soldier
in EastEnders, he was considered an
ideal choice to send to Afghanistan
to show how a real war works.
The most exciting morning I've
had in a very long time, I
can assure you of that.
Weirdly, it turned out he's
actually pretty good at this.
All of which opened the floodgates
for other celebrity experts.
One consistent thumbprint of
"expertainment" is to confuse
fictional characters with
the actors that portray them.
Because he played a vet in
African based, Wild at Heart,
ITV thought it would be a good idea
to send Stephen Tompkinson
animal mending round Africa.
In fact even Tompkinson seems
to have forgotten he's an actor.
My journey begins in
Tanzania on Africa's
east coast where I'll test my
veterinary expertise with some of the
hardest-working vets in the world.
And if you need an expert on cats,
who better than Joanna Lumley.
She's a bit feline, well she
purrs when she talks,
she even looks a bit like a cat.
Christ, this is
perfect, she must love cats.
She'll show us the family
tabby in a moment, you wait.
My journey begins here at home and
it begins with a confession.
We don't have a cat.
Oh, well I suppose it must be
quite hard to find someone
in Britain who owns a cat.
No one seems to have
proper expertise any more.
Griff Rhys Jones's chief
qualification for splashing round
Britain's rivers, is that he's
While sending renowned investigative
journalist Daniel Dyer to explore
the phenomenon of UFOs seems odd,
because he's not an expert and seems
to have made his mind up before he
sets out according to the title.
I'm going to ask you straightaway, do
you believe there's intelligent life?
In this room?
He's also easily swayed by
evidence like
dodgy footage of what looks like
a rubber alien mask at a window.
What the hell is that?
Hope no one shows him Santa Claus,
The Movie! He'll *** himself.
These days, you don't even
have to be vaguely suitable to
front a documentary series,
provided you're a celebrity.
I have always been passionate about
rave culture and I'm on a very
personal journey to discover the
roots of this fascinating scene
and its diverse yet controversial
musical legacy.
Summer of love, 88.
It was simply parties.
Some of them do's were
Everyone was together,
you could go, you could be
playing a tune at 120 bpm,
go down to Aphrodisiac or
something which was about 100 bpm.
All the girls on the podium, all the
dancers everywhere, glow sticks,
just a sea of glow
sticks everywhere.
Don't you remember the dummies?
You must have had a Vicks
rubbed on your back at one
point when you was at a rave.
Everyone had that.
They were the days though, hey?
Raving, wicked.
Be nice to
go back there wouldn't it?
To like the proper days when we
were all out there.
Once documentaries were happy
to show you stuff and take
time to let you absorb it.
Gradually they morphed into
grandiose visual spectaculars like
Walking With Dinosaurs.
We'll show you how these magnificent
creatures live.
How they eat, fight and reproduce.
Sensation was starting to
overwhelm fact and before long
if we wanted to
learn about, say, the Blitz,
it was no longer good enough to
listen to people who
actually lived through it.
Boring.
Instead,
you had to hold your own Blitz
in shows like the TV experiment,
Blitz Street, which would answer
the burning question of what would
happen if 1940s German explosives
were dropped on British houses.
A question most of us would have
thought was pretty comprehensively
answered by the six-year
experiment known as World War 2.
To see where it's heading, look no
further than Deadliest Warrior,
a flabbergasting show which explores
history's more fearsome brawlers by
pitting them against each other
in a manner which defies
both sense and taste.
The notoriously evil Nazi Waffen SS,
Hitler's deadly assault courses
that launched World War 2,
versus the vicious Viet Cong,
murderous masters of jungle warfare.
Each week, two sides are chosen
and then the deadliest warrior
team gleefully explore the
injurious possibilities by road
testing their respective arsenals on
bio mechanically accurate dummies
and the occasional dead animal.
For instance, here we discover
what happens
when you detonate
a Viet Cong land mine
beside a deceased pig, which
sounds like the most mental Heston
Blumenthal recipe of all time.
Whoo!
Basically what they've done is
they've taken the tragic futility of
war and used it to blow up a pig.
Once they work out who has got
the edge in which top trump style
category, their resident computer
expert runs a simulation pitching
the two sides against each other
in an imaginary mind space in which
only one can emerge victorious.
The thing is it's so far removed
from reality, you end up picking
sides like it's a sport which means
it's possible to watch this and find
yourself cheering on the Nazis like
they're Tim Henman or something.
Go on Nazi, kill him(!)
Brilliant(!)
Oh no, the poor Nazi(!)
Get him, yes(!)
Hooray for the Nazis(!) Go on(!)
Come on.
Come on,
come on.
Yay, the Nazis won(!)
Hooray for the Nazis,
hooray for the Nazis everyone(!)
Hooray, hooray for the Nazis(!)
Yay.
Hooray for the Nazis, Yay(!)
Please don't take this out of
context and put it on YouTube.
When you're dealing with the world
in which facts are treated as though
they've been dreamed up, you may
as well make factual programmes,
not just about stuff we know,
but about stuff we don't know,
ie the unknown, you know?
Back in 1992, a fictional spook
show caused a stink because
viewers thought it was real.
Yet 10 years later,
viewers were so desensitised to
fact bending, ostensibly real
paranormal investigations
had become a telly staple.
We've had viewers saying they've seen
orbs, the small lights that
they've seen in various places.
We think we've caught sight of them.
Have a look at this
footage which we recorded earlier on.
That's amazing is it not?
Thanks in part to TV's obsession
with the supernatural, these
days almost every son of a
*** in the country claims to have
encountered a ghost at some point.
Real life Spook Talk.
I used to have this cup.
It was a blue mug with a
chip on the rim where you drink from.
Anyway, one night, I broke it.
Dropped it on something.
I go, "oh ***".
A few weeks later, I was at a
friend's house and I opened the
cupboard and there it is.
Same cup?
Same cup.
With the chip in it?
No, that had gone.
We were staying in a hotel room
and very gradually it got colder.
How much colder? Not much,
probably a couple of degrees.
And how long did this last?
A couple of minutes.
You've been watching real-life
Spook Talk.
Don't have nightmares.
It's not just supernatural bibble
people are prepared to
believe, they'll choke down anything
that looks like a documentary, even
fatuous online conspiracy bum wash.
All TV taught us was to
believe what screens said,
even when they were lying.
TV's relationship with
information has taken fact on a
lengthy and unusual journey.
Documentaries morphed from highbrow,
historical lecturing into lowbrow
historical pantomime remixing.
Our taste for experts shifted from
knowledgeable, respectable academics
to *** witted celebrity puppets.
And what about those
fact-based dramas?
This traditional sense of reverence
soon got pissed through a tinsel
coated hosepipe.
Where once the Tudors looked like
old paintings,
TV now portrayed them
like the cast of a sex craved
And the news went from a basic
unemotional explanation of the facts
to a non-stop entertainment format
sold on the basis of its emotive
impact.
The world has changed
and we must change with it.
An entertainment
format which sometimes talks to you
like you're back in the classroom
watching a schools programme.
So to have snow, the layers
of the atmosphere below
cloud level must be cold enough
to keep the flakes from melting.
Don't patronise me, I'm not stupid.
Although I'm 39 and
bickering with the news.
So what did I learn from television
apart from catchphrases and
theme tunes? Almost nothing.
I just looked at stuff
and ended up back where I started.