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An Utterly Worthless Experience

TV Comedy

I have to be honest: I’ve been feeling a little guilty over the past couple of weeks. When I fell in love with The Dick Van Dyke Show, I wrote something which tried to explain at least some of what I loved about it. With The Mary Tyler Moore Show, I leapt straight into stupid production minutiae. I feel like I’ve given poor Mary a bit of a bad rap.

So let’s try to redress things a little. I want to talk about one of my very favourite scenes in the show. No, it’s not from “Chuckles Bites the Dust”, which is clearly an amazing episode, but has been talked about far too much by this point. Instead, it’s the closing scene from “Mary and the Sexagenarian”, first broadcast by CBS on the 12th February 1977, and written by Glen and Les Charles.

The whole episode up to this point has been about the trials and tribulations of Mary dating a man 30 years older than her, a topic which could have been potentially queasy, but is dealt with in the show’s typical sensitive fashion. And then we get the final scene of the show. What have we learnt today?

And instead of answering that question, Mary Tyler Moore expertly skewers TV’s propensity for giving life lessons and issuing moral guidance.

LOU GRANT: You take two very different people. Different backgrounds.
MARY RICHARDS: Different outlooks.
LOU GRANT: Right, right. One more than 30 years older than the other. You bring them together. With all the odds against it. Even though the whole world ridicules it. It can still turn out to be… an utterly worthless experience.
MARY RICHARDS: Thank you.

There are so many reasons why I love this. Firstly, it was slightly surprising even to me to find a US sitcom from 1977 be quite so relentlessly cynical. This feels more like a gag from The Simpsons than anything else. Sorry Simpsons, Mary Tyler Moore already did it.1

Secondly, I adore Mary Tyler Moore’s performance in this scene. True, it’s a scene which is more about selling an abstract idea than an emotional beat. But the actors have to make that idea work within an emotional context, and they do a magnificent job. Mary looks so revolted and defeated as she leaves the office, and she never gets enough credit for just how good she is at those kind of scenes. The very opposite of “turning the world on with her smile”.

We dumb down Mary Tyler Moore into being merely a bright, smiling, all-American gal at our peril. When needed, she brought as much edge to that show as anyone.

But thirdly, and perhaps most importantly: the scene is a reminder to me that I truly love comedy with what I like to call “an evil, beating heart”. I sometimes worry that people misinterpret what I mean by this; that I’m specifically referring to, say, racist or homophobic gags, or at least material which goes into those kinds of areas. But that’s not what I mean at all.

Instead, it’s something a little more subtle: that I enjoy comedy which does not always have a pleasant meaning behind it. Here, it’s the idea that we can all go through painful experiences, and there truly is no real lesson we can learn from them. The pain has been for nothing.

It reminds me very much of one of my favourite jokes from Some Mothers Do ‘Ave ‘Em:

FRANK SPENCER: As my mother used to say – a trouble shared, is a trouble doubled.

A joke which, as friend of the site Mike Scott pointed out, is amusing because of the rhyming trouble/double; it just sounds funny. But what I love most about it is that it talks about a real truth which we would all prefer to ignore. Of course we should talk about our problems… and of course that has a bad side too. By sharing a problem, you literally are giving a piece of it to someone else.

And that’s life. Some troubles just have to be doubled. And sometimes, a relationship you had was an entire waste of time, and there’s nothing positive you can take from it. Sucks to be you.

But maybe comedy like this does have a message after all. It sucks to be all of us.

With thanks to Tanya Jones.


  1. The James L. Brooks connection is not lost on me. 

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Girl on Film

TV Comedy

I really do love this set of episode reviews for Some Mothers Do ‘Ave ‘Em, by Steve Phillips. In a world where so much of the conversation around the show degenerates into variations of “It’s very funny” / “No it’s not”, it’s nice to have someone tackle each episode on its own merits, instead of throwing around generalities. And I very much include myself when it comes to the latter.

For instance, take Steve’s critique of the famous roller-skating sequence in “Father’s Clinic”, broadcast on 20th December 1973.

“The roller-skate ride is arguably Some Mother’s Do ‘Ave ‘Em‘s best-remembered set piece, but suffers from a clumsy change from film to videotape near the end as Frank crashes through the shop (how exactly do you roller-skate up stairs anyway?) The sequence is also slightly marred by jumpy cuts and sudden changes of location.”

As with most British sitcoms in 1973, Some Mothers Do ‘Ave ‘Em used videotape for its interiors, mostly shot in a studio in front of an audience, and 16mm film for its exteriors, played into the studio during the main recording in order to get the studio audience’s reaction. Personally, I don’t find the change from film to videotape as Frank enters the shop clumsy. In fact, I rather like it – it’s like Frank is crashing back into “reality” at the end of the sequence.1

But hey, judge for yourself:

There is, however, one instance of Some Mothers Do ‘Ave ‘Em cutting between film and video which I really do find horrendously awkward. The opening of “Jessica’s First Christmas”, broadcast on the 25th December 1974, is mainly VT material shot at Television Centre… but with inserts of baby Jessica, clearly shot on film:

If you read this scene in a particular way, as the film shots of Jessica are right next to the film panning across all the houses, it unintentionally looks like Jessica has been bunged outside in the dark by an uncaring Frank and Betty. Bastards.

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  1. Let’s try to ignore the fact that Crawford hit his head for real very hard indeed while shooting that scene in the studio. It makes it a little more difficult to watch once you know. 

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“Mr Bedford! Mr Bedford!”

TV Comedy

What’s the best episode of Some Mothers Do ‘Ave ‘Em? Probably not the one where Frank is busted for distributing hardcore porn, which is always a good one to throw at people to see if they really remember the show properly.

For my money, the show probably never bettered “Have a Break, Take a Husband” from Series 1, first broadcast on the 8th March 1973. There’s so much to love about the episode, featuring Frank and Betty’s disastrous second honeymoon. Not least a boiling undercurrent of sexual frustration throughout, beautifully played by Michele Dotrice:

FRANK: Now don’t do anything while I’m gone.
BETTY: Well I can hardly start without you, can I?

I highly suspect, Baby Jessica or not, Betty eventually figured out that she could actually start without Frank. She probably also figured out that she could finish without Frank as well.

But today’s topic isn’t Betty’s sexual organs. Instead, I want to focus on Kenny, “a nervous and outrageously camp dabbler in spiritualism”1, a brilliant performance by Cyril Shaps.2 And what prop would you give such a character?

A copy of Psychic News. Main headline: Medium turns table on sceptical TV team

We reveal that the copy of Psychic News is being held by Kenny. He's looking upwards at Frank and Betty's room in a faintly alarmed manner.

A copy of Psychic News, of course. Which was a real newspaper. And God help me, if you know this site, you know what nonsense I’m about to come out with. Exactly which edition of Psychic News is Kenny holding?

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  1. © Steve Phillips

  2. Who also appears in the pilot of The Young Ones… playing the medium next door. So if you want to say that The Young Ones and Some Mothers Do ‘Ave ‘Em take place in the same universe, there’s your excuse. 

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Mmmm, Nice

TV Comedy

Hello there. Welcome to another exciting instalment of “interesting studio recording dates for audience sitcoms”. And if you’ve managed to get past that sentence and onto this one, I’m presuming you find them exciting too. Hey there. I like you.

Previously, we’ve taken a look at recordings for So Haunt Me, where part of Series 3 was shot just nine days before transmission. We also proved wrong some nonsense on Wikipedia about Series 5 of Are You Being Served? being shot the day before air – in fact, it was a week. Still close to transmission, but rather different than a mere day.

That particular situation is far from without precedent. Huge chunks of Series 3 and 4 of Dad’s Army were also recorded in studio a week before transmission1; “The Day the Balloon Went Up” was recorded on 23 October 1969, and broadcast just a week later on the 30th October. A couple of weeks later, “Menace from the Deep” was recorded on the 7th November, and broadcast just six days later, on the 13th November.

All of which is worth noting. But there is a vague disappointment that I couldn’t find a normal sitcom which really did record the day before it was due to air. Sure, we could cheat and just say Drop the Dead Donkey, but that’s no fun. That was a topical show specifically designed to be shot close to transmission. The joy here would be an otherwise normal sitcom being made surprisingly down to the wire.

Ladies and gentlemen, we have one. Regular helpful person to this site David Brunt stepped in, and gave us a brilliant, highly unexpected example.

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  1. As referenced in Graham McCann’s Dad’s Army: The Story of a Very British Comedy

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