"Television documentaries changed me and inspired me when I was growing up and, as an adult, I wanted to be part of that,” one young researcher tells me.
“I’m from a working-class background, and working in factual TV, bringing people’s stories to screen, that is no small thing. It’s incredibly important to a lot of people,” says another.
After eight months working across two productions for Zinc Media, it is officially my last day here. During my time at the company, I have produced Brook Lapping’s Ian Wright: Home Truths, a single documentary exploring the devastating impact of physical and psychological abuse in childhood, and two glitzy, feature-length episodes for Blakeway’s series about Hollywood in 1939. Cue the old adage: “no two days in TV are ever…”
What does the job involve?
I choreograph the physical action in the story, whether it’s with swords, a punch up or just a slap, ensuring that the motivation for the action lies in the story and the characters. It’s not about being fancy or funky: it’s about making the action the vehicle for the story, not the other way around.
So you must work closely with the director?
So, if ever the fans of a TV series might have pleaded for a podcast that deconstructs each episode, Inside Inside No. 9 answers that call.
Becoming even more granular than the series itself, the two creators and stars, Reece Shearsmith and Steve Pemberton, dissect each episode after it has aired.
Every week, the masters of misdirection are joined by a different member of the Inside No. 9 team to talk about the making of the programmes.
Sitcoms as perfectly realised and executed as Channel 4’s Drop the Dead Donkey are exceedingly rare. That this newsroom caper, set mostly in the offices of Globelink News, was a topical satire, filmed partly the day before transmission to keep the material as up to date as possible, speaks volumes of the skills of creators Andy Hamilton and Guy Jenkin, the brilliant ensemble cast and its director, the energetic Liddy Oldroyd. Unusually, Oldroyd directed all six series, some 65 episodes. Tragically, she died in 2002, aged 47, four years after Drop the Dead Donkey ended.
The Euros is a football tournament like no other before it.
Delayed a year by the pandemic and rerouted to multiple venues around Europe, it will be – at best – problematic, and, in some cases, impossible for fans to follow their teams. The UK broadcasters covering the tournament – with games split between the BBC and ITV – face the same difficulties.
For a show that took six years and multiple knock-backs before it hit our screens, It’s a Sin is a formidable reminder of the power of TV drama.
The series follows a group of gay friends during the Aids crisis of the 1980s, and earlier this year became All 4’s biggest ever show when it was watched by 18.9 million viewers.
Viewers were drawn in by Russell T Davies’s compelling story and his finely crafted characters, whom we couldn’t help but feel invested in.
The spectacular North East coast is a popular location for TV and film. Right now, its castles, cliffs and endless sandy beaches are playing host to ITV’s Vera and at least two Hollywood movies.
But location work – though good for the tourist trade – isn’t enough to sustain the region’s screen sector, which has never really recovered from two decades of successive rounds of BBC and ITV cuts.
Before the pandemic, the UK production sector was stretched for talent, thanks to its extended boom. Now, as the sector revs back up to full speed, the skills issue is becoming even more pressing.
“Modernisation” is a dangerous word for broadcasters when it comes to coverage of the Royal Family. So, too, is “journalism” if it intrudes too far into the ceremonial. Both are immediately construed by critics, especially those who like to bash the BBC, to mean the abandonment of tradition and a lack of respect for the monarchy.
