A Christmas Television Grump

I hate to sound like one of the grumpy old men given too much (cheap) air-time on television, but I feel duty-bound to mourn the death of a great British tradition – Christmas Television.

Looking through the Radio Times special Christmas edition this year, I was struggling to find any real gems to look out for. These low expectations were re-inforced when it came to actually basking in front of the screen on Christmas Day itself, festively plump and in need of entertainment to distract from the indigestion.

But let’s not rely on my own experiences – the blogosphere has enough self-indulgence already. Instead, let’s turn to what the nation chose to watch. The Broadcasters’ Audience Research Board has published its Christmas stats.

Turns out that Eastenders got the most attention – perhaps fair enough considering Babs Windsor is set to be leaving Albert Square this Christmas. The Royle Family was next, followed by Doctor Who. If these were the best of the output this year, then it says a lot about the overall Standard. It says something when the BBC News is in the top 10 Christmas programmes. ITV only featured once, with Coronation Street.

In fact, the only star surprise hit in this year’s schedules came from a most unexpected quarter. HM The Queen is not known for her stellar performances on television – hence the need to get Helen Mirren in for the Hollywood effort two years ago.

This year, though, the Queen’s Christmas Message was strikingly relevant, and in places quite moving. One of the more peculiar aspects of the Monarchy is that it is at its most successful in difficult times. When all is going swell, we don’t particularly need very much leadership, or support from an elderly woman in a palace.

This year, however, the tables have been turned. Suddenly The Queen’s stability, longevity and presence – even the rather clunky editing of the Christmas message – become a reassurance amongst turmoil and difficulty.

The ‘continuing effects of the economic downturn’ might have given Her Majesty an advantage in another way. The Christmas Message is extremely cheap to produce – a few blokes with a camera, a bit of lighting and, it seems, about twenty minutes in the editing suite. There are, of course, no actors’ fees either.

The rest of Christmas programming tends to be quite expensive – hence none of the channels have pushed the boat out this year.

They need to be careful, or they may very well lose their position as the focal point for a modern British Christmas.

P.S. Something from the good ol’ days:

Sex on the brain

There was quite a bit of fuss over the weekend, about the election of a new Episcopalian bishop in the States. Mary Glasspool is a lesbian, in a long-term relationship with her partner, and consequently her election has stirred up the whole issue of homosexuality again.

Today’s Youth Must Find A Voice

The Church of England may not seem like an institution that is very good at listening, but it is ready to listen to young people, and we need to find a voice.

For well over a decade, the Church of England has been struggling with profoundly difficult, but ultimately internal, issues. Finding a new role for women’s ministry in the church, as well as a vicious debate over homosexuality,

Counting Down

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Tony Blair is to become the first President of the European Union. At least, that’s what we’re told by people who claim to know these things. Equally, other people, who curiously also claim to know these things, insist that Tony Blair could not possibly become the first President of the European Union.

Being Ordinary

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Moving to a new city is probably one of the most exciting things a twenty-two year old can do. The financial burden is relatively insignificant, and there are a thousand and one new things to experience and explore. Consequently, I must offer an apology to regular listeners, if any, who have missed these letters in recent weeks. It turns out I cannot promise to produce every week, but I hope you will excuse me when I fail.

Dreaming Dreams

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I have never met Winnie the Pooh. However, I have met somebody who once met Christopher Robin, a close companion of Winnie the Pooh. Consequently I often tell people that when they are shaking my hand, they are shaking a hand that has shaken a hand that has shaken the hand that once held the paw of Winnie the Pooh. Unfortunately nobody ever seems to get quite as excited as me when I tell them.

Opening Doors

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The second week of August is generally regarded to be the highpoint of what has come to be known as the ‘silly season’. That is the period of a several weeks when all the newsmakers – the politicians, the criminals, the celebrities, the actors, the protesters, the campaigners, the fellows at the national office of statistics – and, of course, those of us who consume the news: all of us are on holiday. Consequently there is precious little news to be found.

Singing Along

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Some of the more attentive listeners to this letter will be aware that I moved out of Nicholas Street some weeks ago. In fact, strictly speaking, you are currently listening to ‘A View From Parham Road, in Canterbury’. Some correspondents have asked what I plan to do about this inconsistency.

Taking Care

Political Correctness is a funny thing. It tends to produce the most extraordinary, and often unthinking, responses from the most unlikely of people. I don’t suppose anybody has taken the time to compose a truly thorough definition of the concept, but it seems that everybody has their own understanding of it.

Marking Time

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Perhaps inevitably, those few months that surround graduating from University tend to be a time when many people offer up advice. Some of this advice is tempting to follow, though I sense moving to the Caribbean and setting up a surf shack may have to wait a few years in my case.

Other advice is well meaning, and probably fair, but rather depressing. The main theme of the advice I have received recently has been something like this: Don’t waste time. Once you’ve left university, you won’t have very much of it.