The death of traditional TV
Technology has showered us with many wonderful things that for the most part make our lives enjoyable and much easier. If it wasn't for scientific and technical know-how, I would have to write this article using a pen and paper instead of a laptop.
Although why a writer needs a pen is beyond me. Sometimes though we get a little carried away with innovations and they can morph into things that their inventors didn’t foresee and would probably make their blood boil.
Take, for example, the television which has grown into a medium that often squanders quality and creativity. With a few exceptions, claims that programmes inform, educate and entertain come with a pinch of salt so large it could fill a warehouse.
Because of the headlong rush to attract more viewers and advertising moolah major channels have given quality programming the heave-ho in favour of lowbrow tosh. In the name of Logie Baird’s spinning corpse, I’ve seen some utter bilge in recent years. The biggest programming dung heap is the reality genre, modernday freakshows that actually suck the living brain cells out of people, so you feel stupider after watching them. They’re cheap and unimaginative schedule fillers put out by lazy producers and channels.
Originally a curious window into the lives of other people reality TV has grown into a monster that has consumed the schedules. I'm not saying that all of them are bad, but most are dreadful and unedifying spectacles.
One of the earliest forays into reality television was the ‘Seven Up’ series. First broadcast in the 1960s, it was considered groundbreaking in its day. Little did anyone realise what a slippery slope society was embarking on which has led to naked dating shows and Z-list celebrities herding sheep.
I have a hunch that some of the series have only been commissioned because of their catchy and clever names which are probably the best things about them. For example, ‘Ex on the Beach’ and ‘Just Tattoo of Us’. I don’t even want to imagine what televisual manure the producers of these shows are shovelling our way.
When someone came up with an idea for a programme that has you watching other people sitting on their sofas watching TV, I knew that the well of originality had truly dried up. These days scraping the bottle of the barrel is less an insult and more a lofty aspiration for some media types.
One of my biggest bugbears with reality TV programmes is that they pretend to be real. But the way they’re edited means that programme makers can tell any story they like out of the hundreds of hours of footage they shoot.
If I stuck a camera in your house and filmed you the whole time, I could make you look any way I wanted by selecting which 10-15 minutes to air. ‘Bargain Loving Brits in the Sun’ has a Story Producer listed in the end credits. Why does it need a story producer? It's meant to be real life!
And if it’s not reality shows polluting the airwaves it’s ‘talent’ programmes. Whether it’s a singing or dancing show or a singing and dancing show on ice much of the focus is on the judges who preen and act up to get as much camera time as possible. Bruno Tonioli, Simon Cowell et al have become parodies of themselves, and talent has long been jettisoned as a requirement.
If you’re a bit of a character or can tell a great sob story about your pet lizard getting churned up by a combine harvester on the day your gran was evicted from her home then you’ve got a good chance of doing well. No matter the talent show the formats are the same: compete, cry, squabble, bitch about others, cry some more, someone leaves.
With so much dross around it is no small wonder that linear TV channels like BBC 1, ITV 1 and Channel 4 are losing viewers faster than rats jumping from a sinking ship. Increasing numbers of us are switching to on-demand services such as Amazon, Hulu and Netflix.
I signed up to Netflix more than a year ago and haven’t looked back. There are hundreds of high-quality and original drama shows, compelling documentaries on all manner of topics and a vast library of films. And no adverts ever. Unless traditional TV bucks up its ideas it will soon be as dead as a python parrot.