When A Favourite Fails

Press, Volume CV, Issue 31003, 8 March 1966, Page 7

When A Favourite Fails

The TV screen has its moment of truth like the bull ring. It comes when the confirmed viewer realises that a favourite programme suddenly fails to satisfy. Succeeding episodes are endured, not enjoyed, until the programme drags to its weary end. In the United States, where competition demands that viewers must be kept happy, the moment of truth comes sooner. Programmes are sent to the scrap heap after what the N.Z.B.C. would consider a brief appearance. In One Channel Land, where there is no choice, the moment of truth is usually disregarded, and the dead programmes are not allowed to lie down. Perhaps the N.Z.8.C., like the confirmed viewer, does recognise that there is a moment of truth for programmes. After all, it did stop “The Virginian” half-way through its course. But it persisted with “The Nurses,” it is allowing “Peyton Place” to continue on its dreary way, and there are still another 13 episodes of “The Virginian” stockpiled for future use. Of course, the N.Z.B.C. had its difficulties. Programmes with high ratings overseas are not favourably received here. And when you have made a package deal it is not always possible to unwrap the parcel and select the best episodes. The time may come when it is obvious that a programme is disliked by viewers; the problem then is to find a suitable replacement. VICTIMS. TOO After watching the St. Clairs and the Flemings fumbling their way through the world of high fashion in Paris on Saturday evening I decided that the moment of truth had arrived for “The Rogues." The last few episodes suggested that the programme was slowly becoming the victim of poor writing and pedestrian plots, and was beginning to repeat itself; the latest episode confirmed this opinion. Usually the engaging rogues are completely at home in Paris, having been given the entree by the French branch of the family. This time all of them seemed

in the wrong setting and the wrong story. When the family of modern Robin Hoods arrived to show us how they robbed villians to help the wronged and themselves—they transformed Saturday evening’s entertainment. The programme had a

> gramme of distinction at the beginning. It was intelligent, 1 polished, and witty. All the i family exuded charm and 5 good taste, there was no 1 undue emphasis on violence, 1 and each episode was handled - with a light touch. The proi gramme was frankly, and richly, escapist, and the resemblance to some of the ; film comedies of the Ernst Lubitsch era was no disadvantage in the eyes of middle1 aged viewers. ’SAME WAY s But the moment of truth - has arrived for “The Rogues.” s Suddenly it seems to be full t of minor irritations. The - family operates the same way , in London, Paris, New York » or Los Angeles; its technique for extracting money from the - villain or villains never

■ varies. Gig Young belies his I name—the incipient double I chin is more obvious in pro- I . file —and the everlasting I i charm of Charles Boyer is I wearing thin. One wonders I why Robert Coote must always I play the slightly silly ass with I such eagerness, and—perish I • the thought—why David I Niven suggests Malvolio rather I than Lothario in his roman- I • tic interludes? . I “The Rogues” have been I delightful. But now their I charms are beginning to fade. I I will continue to watch them I in action just for the pleasure I of seeing Gladys Cooper, but I without the same enjoyment. I : DULL AND DREARY One of the stolid looking I ; Southdown rams which I ' appeared in “Country Calen- I ’ dar” at the week-end could I well be the trade mark of I this dull and unimaginative I programme. I expected some- I thing fresh and exciting from I this new venture by the I N.Z.8.C., not an agricultural I version of “Pictorial Maga- I zine” at its worst. “Country Calendar’’ is I directed specifically at the I farming community, and it is I hoped that the townfolk will I also be interested in it. The I first page seemed unlikely to I interest either section. It I contained a lifeless recital of I items of farming news, a I brief account of the picking, I grading and packing of I apricots in Central Otago, I distinguished by pedestrian I script, poor photography, and I some stupid questions, and an I interview with Sir John I Ormond on the marketing of I New Zealand’s meat. GINGERLY Television must not be I frightened of dealing with I awkward things, according to I Sir lan Jacob, a former I Director-General of the 8.8. C. I The Meat Board’s proposals I for diversifying overseas I markets are in the awkward I category; Sir John Ormond’s I interviewer handled him I most gingerly, and the result I was that viewers were left I with no clear picture of what I the proposals are all about. It I would have been better to I have devoted the whole pro- I gramme to this important I question. —Argui. I