Late last year, inspired by spontaneously watching The Galton And Simpson Playhouse, I began a British sitcom marathon, which has occupied the majority of my viewing schedule since then.
Five years on I've come full-circle by re-watching
Playhouse. It was an enjoyable sojourn, albeit brief.
I'd forgotten much about these episodes. Like how risque some of the episodes were. Richard Briers's horny, frustrated office worker was a case in point. The episode with him drawing a curvy graph on a whiteboard. He's distracted by his buxom assistant leaning over his desk. With his back to the whiteboard, he continues drawing two joined up, u-shaped figures. The assistant sees it, takes his marker with a roll of her eyes, draws in the nipples and walks off, leaving him deflated. So he's delighted when his colleague invites him to a wife-swapping party, which naturally doesn't go to plan. Long story short, he loses his wife en route and is refused entry. While he is off looking for her, she arrives alone, learns the nature of the party and has revenge sex with every male present. Then she heads home leaving hubby still slumped outside the door, passed out with drunkenness and fatigue, and still very much frustrated.
With an anthology series like this, it's very easy to view these episodes in their potential for an ongoing series. Perhaps the three most series-worthy were the opening episode, which had Arthur Lowe as a Blimp on holiday, complaining about the foreignness; the episode set entirely in a bar; and the one with Leonard Rossiter arguing with Roy Barraclough about whether or not an extra in the episode of
MacMillan & Wife they're watching is actually Burt Reynolds.
Funnier than Lowe himself in
Car Along The Pass was Mona Washbourne as his timid wife. While they're stuck in a broken cable car and he rants on about how awful their holiday has been, she knits away, eyes twinkling with a knowing smile on her face. By episode's end, she's sent him back on the last cable car to retrieve the passports she claims to have left on a tree where they last set up their tent. She then leaves a message with the ticket seller to tell hubby she's found the passports on her person after all. Then she books herself into a five star hotel, alone and happy. One can easily imagine an ongoing series with these two as a kind of forerunner to
One Foot In The Grave.
The episode set entirely in the bar was appropriately named
Cheers and preceded the other
Cheers by more than half a decade. The little rituals they had of greeting one another and fellow patrons, of sitting in the same place, of placing out their snacks in the same way was entertaining in itself, and showed the tedium one bravely tried to escape, even though it ultimately proved to be a fantasy. The premise was clever in its simplicity and could have run and run.
It struck me in
I Tell You It's Burt Reynolds that the tone seemed similar to the little I've seen of
The Royle Family. Set entirely in the living/dining room, with a family watching telly and eating their dinner. Leonard Rossiter is the family friend who crashes in, starts arguing over trivia that nobody else cares about, invites himself to join them for dinner and uses their phone to ring Yorkshire TV, a national newspaper and eventually Burt Reynolds himself in a bid to prove himself right, after the TV Times listing and the closing credits let him down (he even ends up arguing the toss with the unseen, unheard Reynolds as the credits roll). It's very obsessive, but also very relatable (perhaps particularly since this very site is a place where tiny details of TV shows become the subject of occasionally heated debate). I'd have enjoyed watching an entire series where a different debate takes place in the living room each week.