TEN years: a seventh of man’s life span; a moment in history. Some decades leave no mark on history; others seem crammed with momentous events.

In the decade we have just lived through — the Fabulous Fifties some people are calling it — we in Britain lost a King; gained a Queen; fought in Korea; made the H-bomb; saw the cult of the Teddy Boy; did away with wartime rationing; climbed Everest in the person of Sir Edmund Hillary and Sherpa Tensing.

These were only a few of the things that happened to us during the 50’s.

When big events occur, we do not always appreciate their wider effects. They are driven from our thoughts by the next sensation. But in retrospect…

In 1951, we were in the middle of the Korean war. Who did not feel proud at the glorious stand of the Gloucester Regiment against great odds? Glorious in its display of British courage; inglorious that, a mere six years after the greatest war in history, men were still having to die to uphold the freedom we believe in.

On May 2, 1952, the first Comet airliner left London for Johannesburg, beginning the first jet passenger service. Then came the Comet disasters. It was a grievous blow to a brilliant aircraft, but out of those disasters came knowledge that has enabled others to build high-flying jets with complete safety. This is one of Britain’s important contributions to world technical knowledge. And it is a pleasure to recall that this last year of the decade has seen a revival of the Comet’s fortunes.

In that same year, 1952, Britain exploded her first atomic weapon. And the 50’s saw us progress — if that is the right word — from atomic bombs to hydrogen bombs.

This ominous mushroom cloud has dominated our lives more than anything else in the decade. We are all aware of its frightfulness, and in its very horror lies our salvation — while sanity prevails. Its mere possession, let alone its use, is an awesome responsibility.

Perhaps the hydrogen bomb is the most important thing that has happened in the 50’s. Because it is too dangerous to be trifled with, there has emerged the beginning of some sort of closer contact between the leaders of East and West. I would say that the nuclear fear has aroused the common man to serious contemplation of the issues of peace and war more than anything else has ever done.

Some people say that Britain is no longer a great Power, that the 50’s saw our decline. It is true that we are no longer the military arbiters of peace. In that sense, yes, perhaps we are no longer a great Power. But history may judge that, during the 50’s, Great Britain became greater by her influence on world affairs.

By exporting the British way of life, encouraging the development of new nations (most of whom elect to remain within the Commonwealth), by taking the initiative in breaking the ice of cold war.

Mr Macmillan’s personal visit to Moscow, which might easily have ended in fiasco, should never be forgotten as the beginning of a new trend in international affairs — the personal approach between heads of State.

June, 1953, and again the Royal Family was close to the nation. The Coronation of Queen Elizabeth II brought the monarchy even closer to the people — thanks to the TV cameras. There was a sense of participation in this formerly exclusive ceremony. Later in 1953, it was my pleasure as Minister of Food to announce that sugar rationing was over. Butter and cheese came off the ration in May, 1954, and food rationing ended officially on July 3.

At the end of that month, amid some cries of woe, the Act setting up the Independent Television Authority was passed. And I suppose that set up one of the most significant trends of the decade.

Competition and controversy in television improved the service. I think that is recognised as a general fact, whatever detailed arguments and criticisms may be made for or against either Channel.

The development of Independent Television speeded the growth of the viewing audience — the trend towards a stay-at-home Britain.

The arguments are endless on this subject. I think television should be used with the same care you use when selecting a book in a library.

Does it have any effect on crime? Some people like to blame juvenile crime — which has increased during the 50’s — largely on films and television.

While it is easy to exaggerate the effect of certain TV programmes on viewers, it is important that the quality of programmes should be maintained at a high level. I had experience when Home Secretary of horror comics which, had we not prohibited their publication and importation, might have become a real menace.

When I was a boy, a policeman thought it part of his duty to cuff a boy he saw doing something naughty and technically against the law — and so did his father.

Psychiatry and the modern approach to juvenile crime is undoubtedly of great value, but I think the trend has been too much to search for obscure causes for delinquency when quick action at the first sign of waywardness would have done more good.

Violence has been a trend of the past ten years. We have seen the emergence of the Teddy Boys.

I have not the slightest objection to any chap wearing what he pleases. I think it is good for a youth to take pride in his appearance. But it is a pity that hooliganism has become associated with the Teddy Boy style: otherwise this cult might have been nothing more than a picturesque development and a harmless expression of youthful vanity.

This decade began with the death of an “angry old man” — George Bernard Shaw who never tired of telling us how to put things right. And very entertainingly he did it, too.

I have less sympathy with that product of the 50’s — the angry young man. I suppose some “angry young man ” at present in his cradle will one day tell us what a mess we made of the 50’s — just as the current crop complain about what we did 20 or 30 years ago.

I can never understand what they are angry about.

Did we become more selfish during the 50’s? Some say the I’m-all-right-Jack attitude has been another trend of the decade. I do not agree. There have always been selfish people, and always will be.

It happens that this rather graphic phrase is often applied to people who have been merely thoughtless rather than cynically indifferent to the plight of others. As a nation we are generally willing to help others.

I can give an example from my experience when Home Secretary. After the Hungarian uprising in 1956 we agreed to accept 2,500 refugees. Some days later I was informed that refugees were pouring into Austria in uncontrollable numbers. I authorised the immediate admittance of another 11,000. I do not recall anybody protesting.

Roaring Twenties, Fabulous Fifties — decades attract their own adjectives. I think Fearful Fifties is equally descriptive: they have certainly been uneasy, to say the least.

But I am full of hope. If the wealthy nations of the world display an unselfish attitude towards the have-nots — the teeming, undeveloped lands of the East — I believe the uneasy peace of the Fifties may well be made enduring.

I should like to think that we are entering the Sane Sixties.

The post The Fifties – fearful and fabulous appeared first on THIS IS MY 1950s from Transdiffusion.

Mary Malcom defends British Housewives in

“Sauce for the Gander”

AND HEINZ MAKE TELEVISION HISTORY IN A SPECIAL ADVERTISING MAGAZINE ABOUT FOOD!

CAN English women cook? “Certainly!” says Mary Malcolm, vigorously springing to the defence of the British housewife. Does she succeed in convincing her adversary in discussion- the well-known stage and TV personality, Kenneth Horne? Listen to a new 15-min- ute magazine called “Sauce for the Gander” at 6.45 p.m. on Tuesday evening and find out for yourself how this particular argument starts, how it develops – and who wins.

However heated the argument becomes, Mary Malcolm should succeed in preserving the peace. Her years of radio and TV experience have accustomed her to handling all kinds of awkward situations.

Once, during George Cansdale’s “Looking at Animals” series on television, she was nearly throttled by a boa constrictor – but she scarcely batted an eyelid. The most violent verbal battles could hold no terrors for her after that!

When Mary Malcolm was invited to commère this new magazine she accepted eagerly – especially when she heard what it was going to be about. From first to last, it’s about food, and food is something everyone is interested in – but especially women. “Sauce for the Gander” will be helpful as well as interesting, because it will provide women with an opportunity to hear their own food problems freely discussed in a lively and amusing atmosphere, to learn new facts about food, and to take a really close look at food prices and the cost of living in general.

Mary Malcolm has her own very decided ideas about food and housekeeping. She is herself a wife and mother and so is intimately concerned with the day-to-day problems of running a home. She understands as well as anyone the difficulties of running a home and a job, having had to solve this problem on her own account.

During the magazine, Mary Malcolm will introduce the two guest stars, Kenneth Horne and Eleanor Summerfield, both with definite and often opposing views about food. Eleanor Summerfield has an exciting recipe for you. Be ready with your pencil and paper to jot it down as she demonstrates.

In another part of the magazine, Peter Cockburn goes out with the cameras, talking to housewives as they shop, taking a peep into their shopping baskets, finding out the kind of food they buy, discussing the difficulties of making housekeeping ends meet. He doesn’t just confine questions to city housewives, but he also visits a tiny English village where a completely different set of circumstances exists. Perhaps we shall be hearing your views.

Peter Cockburn will be everywhere, talking to people and taking pictures in big stores, small stores, everywhere in fact where housewives congregate to shop.

Have you ever wondered how spaghetti is made? Does it grow? Or is it manufactured, or where does it come from? Well, here’s your chance to find out. Because in “Sauce for the Gander” there’s a fascinating documentary all about spaghetti. All kinds of hitherto unsuspected facts about spaghetti come to light.

Listen on Tuesday evening and find out all about it.

“Sauce for the Gander” goes on the air from 6.45 to 7 on Tuesday evening, 3rd December 1957

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‘Nothing offends children more than to play down to them. All the great children’s books — the Pilgrim’s Progress, Robinson Crusoe, Grimm’s Fairy Tales, and Gulliver’s Travels — were written for adults.’ Bernard Shaw

Since September 1950 boys and girls from the ages of five to fifteen have had their own daily programme from their own studio in Lime Grove, and parents have only themselves to blame if they allow more than this reasonable ration. The very first week produced amazing evidence of the younger generation’s readiness to adopt 5 to 6 p.m. as theirs: the ‘Telescope’ general interest magazine programme received 6,000 entries for its first competition and conundrum, whilst its variety companion, ‘Whirligig’, discovered no less than 1,200 young dramatists, who in one week sent in plays for ‘Write it Yourself’, a thrilling serial acted by professionals and kept going over the months by children creating the scripts themselves.

British children are not made lazy by television. From north to south they obviously enjoy participating in programmes — in music, singing, writing, acting, debating. Especially encouraging is the standard of child art.

Our first task was to establish a daily programme starting with such items as puppets for the very young and working up robustly in the age groups. For the older children the scheme was this: Sundays — plays; Mondays — films of adventure (Renfrew, Rex and Rinty, Mystery Squadron); Tuesdays — dramatized books; Wednesdays — story-tellers, travel, cartoonists, countryside, ballet, careers, books, art, music, history, discovery, quizzes; Thursdays — documentary; Fridays — sport; Saturdays — magazine programmes.

There is a huge untapped source of material waiting to be opened up for children and adults with children. What more endearing families could be seen in your own home than the Louisa Alcott Little Women, or E. Nesbitt Railway Children, poised and natural and resourceful, or the naughty boys of Just William. The child of today is keenly conscious of the world he lives in and the part he has to play in it in a way preceding generations were sheltered from. He or she is frank and natural — with discussion as ‘Junior Wranglers’, or histrionics when they ‘Play the Game’.

Experiment has been the keynote of this first and formative year of regular visual entertainment and information for children. Experiment in specially written plays (Gunpowder Guy), experiment in specially dramatized novels (Treasure Island, The Malory Secret), simple ways of presenting Shakespeare (A Midsummer Night’s Dream and The Tempest), experiment in animations, in use of transparencies and shadows for fairyland effects. None of this would have been possible without the enthusiasm of young producers who have thrown themselves so whole-heartedly into the work.

One play specially commissioned, The Little Swan, showed the struggles of a young girl to earn enough in a pantomime chorus to pay for her classical dancing lessons. This provoked a small child into begging for a sequel. After the success of The Powder Monkey in company of no less than Nelson and Hardy at Trafalgar, we soon discovered the need for further adventures for the same boy as Midshipman Barney.

As a contribution to the Festival of Britain, Children’s Television invited over two French children as their guests for three weeks. This is a prelude to a larger plan to send two children (with a cameraman and chaperone) right round the world, so that every child everywhere will effectively go with them on the grand tour and see children of other lands through the eyes of children.

Children’s television has deliberately set out to build up personalities children now know and like — Humphrey Lestocq (‘H. L.’), Bruce Gordon (The Man in Armour), Valerie Hobson with her ‘How to’ needlework, Robert Morley (‘Parent-craft’), Harold Glover (‘Men of Action’), Annette Mills, impeccable in her technique at the piano, Doris Langley Moore, with her authentic costumes of other periods, Richard Hearne (Mr. Pastry), ‘Fish-Hawk’ and Percy Edwards in ‘Nature Calendar’; Harry Rutherford, moving about with his ‘Sketchbook’ and his novel ‘Book Bag’ reviews, Cliff Michelmore, ubiquitous in sport, Barrie Edgar, out on the O.B.s, Peter Madden, who in his time has played many parts, Peggy Cameron (‘What’s the Object?5), Hugh Gee, the story-teller, and the charming trio of young announcers Jennifer Gay, Janette Scott, and Elizabeth (‘Your Puppy5) Cruft. There are the ‘Immortals5, the Reluctant Dragon, the veteran Muffin, Mr. Turnip, Hank, Dudule the Duck, Timothy Telescope, Cactus the Camel, Prudence Kitten, Daisy May, Matilda Mouse, Cyril the Centipede, Dash and Dither, Johnny Chuck and Grandma, Vegetable Village and Cuthbert the Camera.

Among the newer presentations are Kipling’s Puck of Pook’s Hill, Mrs. Frances Hodgson Burnett’s Sara Crewe, Noel Streatfeild’s The Bell Family, Billy Bunter and the ‘Grey-friars’ school stories, Arabian Nights, Hans Andersen’s life, Sherlock Holmes, Emil and the Detectives, At your Service, Ltd., John at the Fair, and a series on the boyhood of the Great.

In my view the television children of today are lucky, for he and she, given the best acting, good design, expert advice, and high standards in presentation will be helped to reject for themselves the second-rate in their life to come.

The post Television for younger viewers appeared first on THIS IS MY 1950s from Transdiffusion.

Bill Haley and His Comets

Released by Brunswick in 1955, selling 1,390,000

2: “Diana”

Paul Anka

Released by Columbia in 1957, selling 1,240,000

3: “Mary’s Boy Child”

Harry Belafonte

Released by RCA in 1957, selling 1,170,000

4: “What Do You Want to Make Those Eyes at Me For?”

Emile Ford & The Checkmates

Released by Pye in 1959, selling 920,000

5: “Jailhouse Rock”

Elvis Presley

Released by RCA in 1958, selling 880,000

6: “What Do You Want?”

Adam Faith

Released by Parlophone in 1959, selling 820,000

7: “Living Doll”

Cliff Richard & The Drifters

Released by Columbia in 1959, selling 770,000

8: “All Shook Up”

Elvis Presley

Released by HMV in 1957, selling 740,000

9: “Love Letters in the Sand”

Pat Boone

Released by London in 1957, selling 710,000

10: “It Doesn’t Matter Anymore”

Buddy Holly

Released by Coral in 1959, selling 680,000

The post Best selling music of the 1950s in the UK appeared first on THIS IS MY 1950s from Transdiffusion.

Anyone who happens to be in the neighbourhood of Charing Cross Hospital at a certain hour in the morning is likely to meet a bunch of laughing young nurses, coming off night duty, piling into coaches that will take them to the Nurses’ Home at Hampstead.

‘Laughing’ is the operative word, for nurses are by nature gay people. They have to be gay in temperament; it is one of the essential attributes of their very dedicated profession.

Their lot in life brings them into such close association with suffering that they very early learn to temper sympathy with the kind of gaiety that helps to keep both patients and the relatives of the patients in the right frame of mind.

The Editor of Family Doctor, Dr. Harvey Flack, once paid open tribute to the TV series ‘Emergency — Ward 10′ as a feature that has helped millions of viewers to overcome a tendency to look on hospitals with some sort of fear — which is quite unfounded.

In the Casualty Ward of any big hospital there are many human dramas — but always in the background are the doctors and nurses, who amid the many emergencies manage to live their own lives.

Unlike those comedy films Doctor in the House and Doctor at Sea, the TV series ‘Emergency — Ward 10’ has the right approach to hospital work — and cuts out the 100 per cent flippancy.

The team who make the TV series go to enormous trouble to be right in every detail, get the right kind of background information, and make their players, whether doctors or nurses, behave like ordinary people.

To celebrate the 100th programme of the series, the TV team paid a visit to Charing Cross Hospital, where a rather unnerving thought occurred to Freddie Bartman.

‘I just hope none of the patients mistakes us for the real thing, and expects a correct diagnosis of his — or her — illness!’

Rosemary Miller and Jill Browne, on that occasion, went round the wards, talked with patients, helped with serving the meals from the trolleys, and were accepted by the patients as just part of the hospital service.

That made everybody feel pleased with themselves. It proved that Rosemary and Jill had the right feeling for their jobs in the TV series.

Rosemary Miller’s reaction was that she felt ‘terribly humble,’ and realised for the first time the responsibility of the role she has played, as Nurse Pat Roberts.

Rosemary comes from the Antipodes, and at one time she had the idea of becoming a journalist like her parents before her, but she says ‘the dramatic germ proved stronger.’

She was appearing in local theatres whenever she could, in her early teens.

She studied ballet — and then decided that it held nothing for her, though she admits ‘it helps you to put your feet in the right positions.’

Finally, she came to Britain, which seemed to offer more opportunities for aspiring actresses. But Rosemary made no particular impact on the British theatrical world until she was auditioned for ‘Emergency — Ward 10.’

In the beginning ‘Emergency — Ward 10’ was intended as a twelve-week series, devised by Tessa Diamond.

Its popularity with viewers, who kept writing to the Associated Television Network for more news of it, meant that Tessa had to call in some more scriptwriters to work out more interesting adventures for the doctors and nurses.

‘Emergency — Ward 10′ became an authors’ emergency, requiring several extra consultants.

The Casualty Department at a real hospital, King’s College Hospital, Denmark Hill, in London, has now become the team’s ‘trade mark,’ recognised by people who live in that part of London.

It does not mean that stories thought up by Tessa Diamond and her writing colleagues happen there. It just is a good place for taking authentic exterior pictures and good real-life shots of ambulances arriving in a hurry. These are later woven into the ‘fictitious’ parts, lending them a touch of realism.

Among the doctors in the series there is a gaggle of cheery characters: Glyn Owen, Frederick Bartman and Charles Tingwell.

Glyn comes from Carnarvon, where his Dad was a policeman. Following in Dad’s footsteps, he pounded the beat in London, joined the Flying Squad, and for four years ‘covered’ the West End of London.

But when he wasn’t pounding the beat he was treading the boards, working in his spare time with an amateur theatre group.

By hook and by crook, he managed to get himself jobs in the professional TV mediums — in ‘The Trollenberg Terror,’ and in the French Resistance series ‘Secret Mission.’

Frederick Bartman, Dr. Simon Forrester to viewers, suffers from being naturally short-sighted. During transmission, however, he removes his spectacles and trusts to luck that he won’t bump into anyone or anything on set!

Freddie was brought up in Vienna, where his parents worked. He had no theatrical background. He just wanted to act, and when he got to Britain, it was ‘Emergency — Ward 10’ that provided him with the money to pay for his digs.

‘Emergency — Ward 10,’ however, is not his only contract. He also works for various broadcasting networks, as a German announcer on overseas programmes.

One thing he has learned from his appearances in ‘Emergency — Ward 10’ is that ‘hospital is not nearly as terrifying a place as I once thought.’

The post Emergency … Ward 10 appeared first on THIS IS MY 1950s from Transdiffusion.

Once a week, on the Granada TV network, this popular show goes out over the air. It all looks very spontaneous, and certainly is, as far as the questions and answers are concerned, but there is a good deal of careful preparatory work, done beforehand, in selecting the contestants.

You can’t just write in and say ‘I want to be a Quiz Kid’!

Sidney Bernstein, the chief of the Granada network, is very fussy. He likes contestants to feel happy and relaxed before the cameras, and he likes to be pretty sure that their general knowledge won’t dry up when the crucial time comes in front of the cameras.

The programme has been timed from the start, so that it should not interrupt school hours.

There are several rules that must be obeyed: Contestants must have permission from the Head of their school to take part in the Quiz. Parents must give their permission.

Contestants must have a bit of personality that ‘comes over’ to the viewers.

And then there is the general knowledge test that comes first, in the process of selection.

Tests are arranged every week, after the production team have sorted out the applications. These come in by the hundred, and are carefully sorted out before the first ‘heat’ is decided on by the production team, based on what the boys and girls write in their applications.

Granada like parents to attend the test session, along with the would-be contestants — but not to sit beside them while they fill in the answers.

On one occasion a mother, who sat next to her offspring and whispered the answers, ruined her daughter’s chances. The daughter possibly knew the answers herself, but the man in charge of that session overheard the whispering, and decided that on the live programme, with no mother to guide her, she might well be a failure.

After this incident it was arranged for the contestants to sit apart from Mum and Dad, and not be hurried or harried in writing their answers to the twenty-five test questions.

The test questions, incidentally, are changed every week, so there is no chance of Johnnie Smith passing on any information to his chum Maggie Jones at the same school, if she is selected for another Junior Criss-Cross Quiz.

There is, too, a questionnaire, filled in by the contestants themselves, about their school, their hobbies, what they want to do when they leave school, what kind of locality they live in — whether this is town or country is important.

While the boys and girls are filling in the test papers the man in charge of the operation goes quietly around, talking to the parents.

‘The lucky ones,’ he’ll say, ‘will be well taken care of. There will be transport to the studio, and transport back home, food and ice cream on the side. We do not want any one of them to be considered as a child prodigy, with a vast amount of knowledge swotted up for the occasion.’

Anyone living or near Manchester can apply to join in this game — but personality is essential if you are to be chosen as a competitor

Sometimes it happens that the boy or girl who was slowest to complete the test paper turns out to be the winner of a Quiz.

That, too, is taken into consideration, before the final selection.

It helps a Quiz Kid to know that the producers and the Quizmaster are far more nervous than he is, because these characters are responsible for the programme keeping to scheduled time. This is very important where every second counts.

As the Granada Network is situated in Manchester and the first British network to build its own studios rather than ‘adapt’ other buildings, the boys and girls in Junior Criss-Cross Quiz come from schools in the surrounding districts.

They must be between the ages of 12 and 14 (that includes contestants up to the day before their fifteenth birthday). There is at least one instance of a contestant who first appeared when he was 13, and ‘held on’ so long that he was well past his next birthday before the next challenger came in.

Mr. Bernstein, with a teen-age daughter of his own, is in favour of ‘treats’ for prizes, rather than money — things like a trip to Paris, a pedigree dog, a portable typewriter, a cine-camera, riding lessons, music and ballet lessons, for the successful ones.

If you live in the Manchester area, and feel you are a suitable candidate for a Quiz Kid session, write to the Correspondence Manager, Granada House, Water Street, Manchester, 3.

The post Junior Criss-Cross Quiz appeared first on THIS IS MY 1950s from Transdiffusion.

If it is quick and widespread fame your brother or boy-friend yearns for, then newscasting is the job for him! No other television personalities make more regular appearances, none is more closely watched, or minutely criticised for mannerisms than newscasters.

The newscaster, however, must bring to his job a good deal more than just handsome features. He must think, write and speak clearly, be able to work swiftly and accurately under pressure, know something about everything — and have an engaging personality — the kind that wins friends and influences people, especially viewers.

One of the men who has made the top grade in this exacting job is Robin Day. So successful was his newscasting that he was elected ‘Personality of 1957′ by the Guild of Television Producers.

In two years, Robin followed the meteoric TV course of Chris Chataway, who had received a similar honour before switching his attentions to BBC feature programmes.

Known to viewers for his horn-rimmed spectacles and spotted bow-ties, and the toughest interviews on any British network, Robin is a ‘no gimmick merchant’ through and through. Indeed, he is considered the perfectionist of Independent Television News.

A past-president of the Oxford Union (a coveted office held before him by many Cabinet Ministers in their undergraduate days), he is a sharp thinker, and a firm believer in presenting the truth to viewers, often exhausting himself in his search for it.

Journalists, in particular, admire his intense feeling for research, and his uncompromising determination in difficult encounters.

Most impressive was an unscripted interview he managed to organise with Colonel Nasser.

When the Egyptian President met his interviewer’s barrage of awkward questions with evasive answers, Robin pinned him down with quotations from his books and political speeches.

It was an interview that made television history.

But Day does not always play the role of Grand Inquisitor. Owlish and puckish by turns, he is master of the graphic ‘sign-off’. One of his perkiest came from an Egyptian manhole — ‘Now I return you from the sewers of Port Said to the studios of ITN.’

In his unceasing quest for news, Robin has travelled some 30,000 miles, covering fifteen countries — and all this in one year!

The picture at the BBC is a little different. Newscasters working for the Corporation are preferred to be ‘on the spot’ in the studio.

Robert Dougall, for instance, has been talking to BBC audiences since 1934, when he became an Overseas Services announcer.

When war interrupted the ordinary pattern of life, he was blitz-front reporter in London and Plymouth, before sailing with convoys to Murmansk.

These wartime assignments did much to help along his languages — for Robert speaks French, German and Russian.

Married, with a teenage daughter, and a six-year-old son, he tells this good-humoured story against his wife, Nan.

Their first meeting was when she was auditioned by him for a BBC job. Nan did jolly well until she came to the word ‘misled’ in her script. But she was so nervous over the whole business that she pronounced it ‘mizzled.’ Robert, unable to keep a straight face, burst out laughing — and that broke the ice.

Talking of nerves, nothing seems to ruffle the Dougall calm. Whatever desperate situation rages in the studio, it is a serene and composed Robert who goes on the air to face the viewers.

‘Once the camera began to smoke a few seconds before I went on the air!’ he reminisces. ‘And sometimes the monitor screen packs up, which means you are commenting on a piece of filmed news without seeing it. And, of course, there is always the fresh news that comes in while you are talking.

‘It is my nightmare that one day I’ll get the pages of reading news mixed. Twelve to sixteen of them must be in correct order, with “cues” for the filmed insets.’

But doubtless, if the nightmare ever became reality, Robert would find a quick solution and still look cool and calm!

Another BBC newscaster, dimpled, blue-eyed Richard Baker, will always be remembered by sound-studio personnel as The Man Who Stopped BBC Time.

Trying to sleep overnight in Broadcasting House for an early morning broadcast, Richard was disturbed by an electric clock that ticked away every thirty seconds.

Came the moment when he could stand it no longer. A nail-file carefully lodged in the mechanism finally ensured his peace. He slept!

But at seven a.m. next day every clock in Broadcasting House read one-thirty a.m.!

The confusion that reigned among announcers and technicians alike, can be imagined. But it was a confusion that was totally eclipsed by Richard’s own, when he realised who was responsible for time standing still!

On this occasion his peace had been dearly bought—at the price of a reputation it took months to live down!

At one time an English Master (popular but not respected!), Richard took the advice of Form 4C, and vacated the life academic.

The popularity he’d enjoyed as a teacher followed him into newscasting. Heavy fan mail tumbles in for him daily. Some viewers even suggest ways of letting them know he’s got their particular message — and if Richard were to crook his little finger, or rub his nose during the news as often as requested, he’d soon find himself a master of sign as well as spoken language!

In his spare time, Richard writes lyrics for the BBC staff dramatic society, the Aerial Players. Guitar strumming — to a comb-and-paper accompaniment —i s another off-duty pastime!

School-mastering has yielded another recruit to television — Kenneth Kendall, whose shy grin is worth a whole host of viewers to the BBC.

After taking an M.A. in Modern Languages at Corpus Cristi College, Cambridge, Kenneth taught for a while at Hove.

In 1948 he did a temporary holiday relief as an announcer with the BBC, and was offered a permanent job at the end of it. Without much hesitation, the schoolmaster became the neat and sober-suited (a trait left by his 3½ years in the Coldstream Guards) announcer.

If a dazzling smile helps along the fortunes of some announcers, the wintry gleam of ITN’s Anthony Brown seems no less effective.

Dubbed the ‘egg-head’ of his numerically small calling, Anthony describes his expression as ‘gloomy and austere.’

The expression is no mere facade. He is really serious-minded, and extensive reading of history and biography have given him a general background of news-value second to none.

A man of many parts is Brian Connell — onetime reporter for a famous news agency, Naval Commando, parliamentary candidate, translator, and writer with at least eight books to his credit.

It was while reporting during the war that he was taken prisoner by the Japanese, and grew the elegant beard that earned him the studio nickname, ‘The Prof.’

No newscaster can claim such deep knowledge of life’s seamy side as Huw Thomas.

Called to the Bar in 1950, Thomas toured the Welsh courts as Marshal to Mr. Justice Ormerod, and also served in the office of the Public Prosecutor.

Newly ‘called’ barristers often wait months for a case. The day after qualifying, Huw attended Sessions, and joined the queue of briefless lawyers available to give legal aid to defendants.

A Teddy-boy, charged with razor-slashing, picked him to put his case. Huw did so with every word of eloquence in him.

But there came a brief when Huw was not defending but prosecuting.

‘I was not at all happy when it came to prosecuting unfortunate boys like that first Teddy-boy,’ Huw will tell you now, ‘and that is the simple reason why I answered an advertisement for a newscaster, with ITN, who had to be “under 35.” There was one snag — applicants had to have other qualifications, including a good speaking voice and the right kind of screen personality.’

A friend told him ‘Stick to crime, old boy—at least it is a steady living!’

Huw considered the advice, but still decided to join the queue of applicants at the ITN headquarters.

And again he was picked out of the crowd, this time by News-Editor Geoffrey Cox, to help tell the world what is NEWS.

The post Behind The News appeared first on THIS IS MY 1950s from Transdiffusion.

Even the most severe ATV’s critics have found it difficult to say hard words about the plays. Whether ‘live’ or filmed they have maintained a very high standard throughout the first year of Commercial Television in this country. Theatre Royal and TV Playhouse were put on film with an eye on the world market for high class television drama. The parade of stars in TV Playhouse has been most impressive. Dame Edith Evans appeared in two plays – The Old Ladies and A Question of Fact – and actors and actresses of the calibre of Eric Portman, Roger Livesey, Barbara Kelly, Bernard Braden, Helen Haye, James Donald and Nora Swinburne have appeared in plays in this series.

These include many which have run successfully in London and, in some instances, on Broadway too. The Old Ladies is a classic of the contemporary stage. Dame Edith Evans created the role of Agatha Payne twenty five years ago and it was very fitting that she should play it again when the drama was televised.

Other well-seasoned theatrical successes which were filmed for television in the TV Playhouse series included, French for Love, Frolic Wind, Quay South and Shaw’s Man of Destiny in which Margaret Leighton took the part of the beautiful stranger who flitted for a brief moment into the life of the young Napoleon.

In contrast to these well-tried dramas there have been plays in the series especially written for television. Outstanding among these was The Last Reunion, starring Eric Portman. It was a new idea to present on the stage a reunion dinner for the crew of a wartime bomber that had crashed – a reunion for a party of ghosts. Another piece of original television was the telefilmed drama, The Concert, in which the Bradens proved themselves once again to be a wonderful team. The particular ‘gimmick’ of this play is the fact that the hero is not seen until the last few seconds, and it is in that one glimpse that the terrific impact of the clever plot about a blind woman and a coloured man is driven home.

Plays in the Theatre Royal series run for only half an hour each, and to tell a worth-while story within that restricted framework requires the greatest ingenuity. Writers regard these half hour teleplays as the pictorial equivalent of the short story in literature, demanding the same techniques of presentation. There is not time in these brief dramas to dissect character or probe complex relationships as there is in the full length play. A situation has to be arrived at quickly, and a denouement effected with equal speed. Yet it is amazing to see how often this has been successfully achieved.

It was inevitable that for some of these subjects the producers should turn to classic short stories from the past like The Stocking, by D. H. Lawrence; The Door, by Robert Louis Stevenson; The Death Trap, by Guy de Maupassant.

An excerpt from Charles Dickens’ Pickwick Papers furnished material for one of the most successful of the half hour teleplays. Donald Wolfit provided viewers with a superb piece of characterization with his interpretation of Sergeant Buzfuz in the Court Scene, ‘Bardell versus Pickwick’.

Other notable successes in the Theatre Royal series included Eric Portman in Mr. Betts Runs Away, a neat story based on the theory of predestination; Wendy Hiller in The Game and the Onlooker, in which a middle-aged woman’s marriage hopes are ruined by the suspicions of a malicious spinster; and The Great Healer, in which the inimitable Dora Bryan played a robust Cockney who turns up at the Golden Wedding anniversary of the man she was once engaged to. This distinguished series of taut, well-edited playlets is also being viewed by TV audiences in America where they are presented by Lilli Palmer who introduces each play to the viewers in a programme called Lilli Palmer Presents.

Live drama came to the forefront on Channels 8 and 9 when Hugh Beaumont joined Associated TeleVision as drama adviser. Mr. Beaumont is a director of H. M. Tennents who manage many of London’s theatres, and it followed that he should bring to the television screen play-successes from the West End, together with the casts who made these successes.

The first of these ninety-minute ‘live’ transmissions was a very distinguished one, although its cultural content was rather more than a lot of viewers were prepared to absorb. The play was a shortened form of Hamlet, and the players, those who had just returned from showing it to the theatre-goers of Moscow. Paul Schofield as Hamlet; Alec Clunes as the King; Diana Wynyard as the Queen; Mary Ure as Ophelia; and Ernest Thesiger as Polonius were the principal performers.

This set a high standard for the programme’s sponsors to follow, and they did so with a varied list of plays which included Graham Greene’s, The Living Room, starring Dorothy Tutin; Ronald Shiner in the great success, Seagulls Over Sorrento; and the comedienne, Yvonne Arnaud, in Dear Charles. These and other plays in the series still had the West End ‘feel’ about them, for they were either currently running in London or had been until quite recently. This was truly ‘live’ television, giving viewers the impression of a visit to a London theatre, though in fact these transmissions came from the stage of the old Wood Green Empire, now a television studio.

Augmenting the programme, Douglas Fairbanks Presents, is a new series of filmed playlets bearing the name, Errol Flynn Theatre. In the twenty six plays which this comprises, leading roles are taken by Errol Flynn, Patrice Wymore, Sean Flynn, Glynis Johns, Herbert Lorn, Patricia Roc, Mai Zetterling, Paulette Goddard, Derek Farr – and a host of other ‘topliners’.

Commercial Television is certainly making full use of the talent of the British Theatre in its drama offerings. And, provided the standard remains as high as it now is, it matters not whether the drama comes to us ‘live’ or filmed. The Play is the thing!

The post The play’s the thing appeared first on THIS IS MY 1950s from Transdiffusion.

For years the Americans have been unchallenged lords of the market in domestic-situation comedy serials. There are many reasons for this. In the first place they have a maxim in the States that if a thing is worth doing, it is worth doing ‘big’. This brought down to terms of fact means that Liberace had an entourage of sixty when he came to this country; Lena Horne carries with her a hairdresser, maid, a host of musicians, her bandleader husband, a manager and Messrs. X, Y and Z wherever she travels; Bob Hope employs half a dozen writers on each script, and domestic comedy teams are backed by an equally impressive host of writers.

No artiste can go on the stage and be funny without the requisite material, and even the comedians who are touched with genius cannot for ever think up their own gags. However, half a dozen writers in a humorous frame of mind are bound to produce something worthwhile between them in a week, and that is just where America scores over ourselves. Unlike many British script-writers who are expected, individually, to turn out perhaps four scripts in a week, those in the USA concentrate on producing just one script per six or so writers.

Another feature of the American comedy series is their exploitation of true-to-life situations. In this country many of us still seem to be under the misapprehension that in order to be amusing, a situation must be outlandish. But, thanks to American films like I Love Lucy we are learning better.

The basic contents of a good domestic comedy series are these: fun which the whole family can enjoy; true-to-life characterizations; good acting; and finally, and perhaps most important, good script-writing. Many series have started in this country, attempting more or less to conform to these requirements. All have been hailed as rivals to I Love Lucy or to the Burns and Allen Show. All have fallen by the wayside, with one notable exception. Joan and Leslie Randall have produced a series of delightful, simple and extremely funny programmes, containing all the ingredients listed above, and imitating none of the American shows. They have therefore provided us with not only an extremely popular form of entertainment, but also with the first domestic comedy programme to rival imports from the United States.

When Leslie Randall was interviewed before the start of his recent series he said, ‘I am a great admirer of Burns and Allen but we do not intend to imitate in any way.’ The interviewer smiled benignly, having heard the same phrase from at least half a dozen other couples. But within five minutes of the end of the first Randall programme he was ringing Leslie to offer his congratulations. The phone was engaged. Already speaking to Leslie Randall was ATV director Lew Grade, announcing that the Randalls were signed up for a further thirty one programmes, that they would appear weekly instead of fortnightly, and that the deal would be worth seven thousand pounds for them in the coming year …

Let us now take a look at the Joan and Leslie programme and see how it mixes its ingredients. There’s certainly fun for the whole family. And characterizations are invariably possible and true-to-life. Leslie plays the part of a lonely-hearts columnist and Joan the part of his actress wife. They live above Mike’s garage. Their daily help is a fine woman and is treated more as the family confidant than as a char. This is the background for the true-to-life situations.

Doesn’t every Englishman want to buy tickets for a Test Match, and haven’t many been cheated by a spiv? And isn’t it funny when a completely guileless wife double crosses that same spiv in the most delightfully naive way? Don’t we laugh when we see a couple, in trying to burglar-proof a house, make it difficult to get out of but as easy as ever to enter?

The third requirement we mentioned was good acting. Lest anyone who has only seen Leslie in Variety or in Cabaret at a London night haunt should still fail to appreciate the Randalls’ acting prowess, let us glance at the couple’s career. We shall exclude Leslie’s two appearances on the Ed Sullivan show (one of the finest of all American shows, an appearance on which is regarded as the acme of success); we shall disregard his two Palladium engagements; and we shall put aside his two cabaret successes at the Savoy, for these are all in the world of light entertainment.

Leslie’s first professional engagement earned him three guineas for four performances as Paris in Romeo and Juliet. A year later (1948) he met Joan when she was playing repertory in Darlington. There she took the part of Miranda in The Tempest. In her four years of repertory experience Joan played every possible juvenile female lead before she entered the West End. Meanwhile, Leslie was touring Germany in Opera. One has to be good when one is taking coals to Newcastle. An Englishman speaking German in Germany is not perhaps Nancy Mitford’s idea of the U thing to do in that country, but Leslie carried his part in Die Schone Galatier with a deal of success.

The Randalls are ably supported in their TV series by a varying cast in which Harry Towb (‘Mike’), and Noele Dyson (‘Mrs. Henshaw’) are the only permanent members. Noele was educated at Roedean and one of the better Parisian finishing schools – there can’t be many stage ‘chars’ who can claim such expensive education!

The last ingredient we mentioned was a really good script. For the first time in this country four writers are permanently engaged in preparing one weekly script. To Dick Sharpies, Gerald Kelsey, John Law and Bill Craig must go the credit for the excellence of the material used. Add to this the aid of producer Hugh Rennie and the suggestions from the Randalls and you have the value of at least one more script writer.

Who knows, maybe they will have to film the series soon, so that the Americans can at long last see that there is such a thing as a good British ‘situation comedy’ series.

The post Situation Comedy appeared first on THIS IS MY 1950s from Transdiffusion.

A cheap novel, a cheap author, but a true if trite statement on page thirty-seven: ‘You got talent, you got looks but you ain’t got a gimmick … and without a gimmick you’re lost, son … go home, find yourself a gimmick.’

There are two types of success stories: the long hard grind – and overnight fame. Occasionally one follows the other. More often the gimmick leads to the second in, if we may quote the same novel, ‘a great big hurry’. Successful TV gimmick shows are the give-away programmes, audience participation games, the panel games with that extra ‘something’ which makes them click.

What is a gimmick? Johnnie Ray’s cry is a gimmick; Winifred Atwell’s other piano is a gimmick, and well – now you know what we mean. In the case of the quiz show one is led to believe that the word is an abbreviation of ‘gimme’ or ‘gimme quick’.

Having accepted the premise that a gimmick is something worth having, let us examine a few of the gimmick shows.

Pride of place must go to the fabulous The 64,000 Question, ATV first showed this programme on May 19th, 1956. The whole show was based on a lowest common multiple of sixpence. Now, a sign either of inflation or of the increasing prosperity of Independent Television the show works in multiples of a shilling. Answer eleven very hard questions accurately and you can leave the studio, after five appearances, with £3,200 in your pocket – or, if you accept the Val Parnell bonus and take the whole amount in Defence Bonds, £3,520 – and a halo of national fame gleaming over your head.

The English show is based on the world-famous American The $64,000 Question. The main differences between the two programmes are that Hal March comperes the American version and Jerry Desmonde the English one; the English show is transmitted on Saturday night and the American on Tuesday evening; and whereas our 64,000 shillings aren’t taxable, their 64,000 dollars are! In the United States they have police to guard the safe containing the money. In this country ex-Superintendent Fabian of the Yard performs the same function, and is one of the many precautions which are taken to preserve the integrity of the show.

All sorts of people can achieve fame overnight through this competition. In America, a woman doctor of psychology won 64,000 dollars by answering questions on boxing, a railway porter won a huge prize for his knowledge of astronomy, and a parson impressed the nation with his expert knowledge of – jazz! A twelve-year-old school girl (she won umpteen thousand dollars spelling ‘Antidisestablishmentarianism’), a marine captain (on cooking), a coalminer (on the Bible) – all have been big winners.

Such people are the life-blood of the show. Questions are far from easy, stakes are high and contestants cannot answer questions on a subject from which they earn their living. The publicity around the show is enormous and needless to say the winners have many lucrative offers. Viewing figures are vast – in America the sponsors can really boast that the programme stops the country’s activity for the half hour that it is on.

In the near future it is hoped that there will be a challenge competition between the winners in America and the winners in this country. A battle of giants, indeed.

A great deal of the popularity of the show can be traced to its simplicity. From the first to last questions the cash prize doubles itself. Thus in England the first question is for 64/-, the second for 128/- and so on to 64,000/-.

The first major excitement of the British version came when Vernon Goslin, a forty-two year old schoolmaster, answered six of the seven parts of the 64,000 question, only to fail at the last part. There have been a great many excitements since then. For example, there was the day when Ashley Neville Stacey, a schoolmaster from Bexley Heath, reached 64,000, with his wife and five children there to watch him, only to find the last Biblical question too difficult for him. A couple of weeks later, Albert Norman, a 65 year-old retired diamond setter from Normany, Surrey, became the first person to overcome the final hurdle and walk away from the studio with £1,760 worth of Defence Bonds in his pocket.

Shortly after this there was great excitement when the top prize was doubled and contestants began trying for £3,200.

On Saturday, 13th October, 73 year-old Miss Jane Brown staked her reputation as a Dickens scholar on winning the big prize. She won all right, and with £3,520 in Defence Bonds this gentle old Victorian lady went home to Wolverhampton, her black cat, and her organ which she bought in a jumble sale. Self-taught in shorthand, Miss Brown has thirty pupils who were, no doubt, among the millions who sighed with relief when the final question was answered.

Many of the contestants in this country become singularly attached to the show, and it is not unusual to see half a dozen or more ex-competitors appear on the screen when producer John Irwin turns the cameras to spotlight audience reaction.

Another exciting money game is Beat the Clock, which features regularly in Sunday Night at the London Palladium. It is compered by the breezy comedian, Tommy Trinder, and relies for its impact on the participants being willing to undertake some pretty gruelling ordeals. Bursting balloons by sitting on them (blindfold, to make matters more difficult) is one of them. Another involves running six laps of the stage, eating a roll at the end of the first lap, drinking a glass of milk at the end of the second, playing hoopla at the end of the third, bursting a balloon with a dart, riding a hobby-horse and so on – all six laps to be completed within a minute.

Viewers have been amazed at the variety and ingenuity of the actual problems posed in this game. They find themselves asking what kind of diabolical mind would think of asking contestants wearing divers’ boots to burst balloons by jumping on them; what kind of sadist would expect his victims to stack cups of tea with their hands encased in boxing gloves. The answer to these questions is producer David Main, who selects the ordeals from among those used for the same game in the United States.

At any time during the fourteen minutes’ duration of Beat the Clock a bell may ring – the bell which means it’s jackpot time! All contestants immediately stop their efforts to win television sets, refrigerators, washing machines and motor cycles and concentrate on winning some hard cash with an even more difficult problem than dancing on balloons with leaden boots. The jackpot question often involves real skill; bouncing four balls into four boxes placed one above the other on a pole, for example. The jackpot has been won at varying values. On two of the first three occasions the prizes of £1,100 and £1,300 were the highest ever to have been awarded on British television. The lucky winners? A honeymoon couple and a sailor on leave with his wife.

Hit the Limit is a show which began life from Midlands transmitters only, but because of its popularity was soon being relayed from London as well. Announcer Peter Cockburn got his lucky break in this programme when its M.C. Jerry Desmonde, vacated the star-role to make a film with Norman Wisdom.

Hit the Limit is not really an intelligence test, for the questions are simple and the whole atmosphere is that of a brisk fairground. The basic idea is that competitors throw a dart at a revolving wheel which contains a V-shaped ‘jackpot section’ – total area 95 square inches, or one-twelfth of the board. According to which section the dart sticks in, questions are asked and cash prizes awarded. The value of the jackpot increases by £50 each week.

If ever a show had a gimmick it is the highly controversial Yakity Yak – The Dizzy Show. Why controversial? You should just see the mail that pours into ATV. It would appear that half the viewers want to send the girls who participate to the Siberian salt mines, and the rest would like to see them enthroned on pedestals of gold for having achieved the ultimate in feminine pulchritude.

This programme was based on an observation which Michael Pertwee made almost every time he met a woman. ‘They never admit they are ignorant of any particular fact,’ he told Leslie Goldberg, the executive producer, one day. Out of these ten little words came one of the most genuinely funny shows seen on television.

The recipe was simple enough. Choose four beautiful girls, put them on a panel, add one MacDonald Hobley if the programme is to be seen in London, or one Michael Pertwee if it is broadcast to the Midlands. Select ten or so words which sound as though they might mean something they don’t and ask the girls to explain them. The girls must give an answer, and it must never be, ‘I don’t know’.

The result has sent shivers up and down the spines of the erudite gentlemen who compile the Oxford English Dictionary; has made viewers incredulous that even a very dumb blonde could think a toupee was an abbreviated two-piece, or a Bombay Duck a duck with an extra long leg; and has caused a great many people the heartiest of belly laughs. And of course it has given the Press the chance to publish even more pictures of girls with trim figures and cute faces.

John Irwin who produces the show added another gimmick. At the end of each programme the girls were asked to discuss a debatable topic. This resulted in brain machinery working overtime. The girls produced such classic remarks as: ‘Men are so stupid – whenever I want to read what’s going on in Cyprus they are reading the sports page. That’s why I hate travelling in Undergrounds…”

A last word on the gimmick. If you can think of one which ATV could use, send it to them, they’re always looking out for fresh ideas.

The post The Gimmick Shows appeared first on THIS IS MY 1950s from Transdiffusion.

Every week another Robin Hood film is completed at Walton-on-Thames. Every week from the same studios comes another rousing adventure built around Sir Lancelot of Round Table fame. A few miles down stream at Twickenham they are turning out episodes of The Buccaneers at the same surprising rate.

Television is giving a new lease of life to the heroes of costume drama. Not only to Robin Hood, Sir Lancelot and Dan Tempest, but also to the Scarlet Pimpernel and the Count of Monte Cristo. Baroness Orczy and Alexandre Dumas would be amazed to see how many new adventures have been built around their immortal characters.

The success of costume drama is phenomenal – and perhaps slightly inexplicable. We know all the basic plots. We know that Sir Percy Blakeney, alias the Scarlet Pimpernel, alias a hundred and one other heavily disguised characters, will never meet his end at the hands of Chauvelin. We know that Robin Hood, in however precarious a position he might be, will never be outsmarted by the wicked Sheriff of Nottingham. We know that the Count of Monte Cristo will always win in the end, and that Dan Tempest will beard the wicked pirates to whose number he once belonged. Yet despite all this knowledge, we sit enthralled by the suspense of each and every episode. The excitement never flags. Could it be that we all visualize ourselves as the hero, out-fighting the villain with long bow, sword or cutlass as may fit our mood of the moment?

Although all the series mentioned are filmed in England, they have a vast viewing public in the United States. They are there serving dual purposes – earning dollars for Britain, and placating American parents who like to see their children watching dramas with a true historical flavour. And of course the parents watch, too, for this is healthy drama … good always overcomes evil … villainy and injustice are undone with unfailing regularity.

Richard Greene’s Robin Hood has certainly endeared him to many millions in all walks of life, and of all ages. This handsome British actor has brought immense charm and gallantry to his interpretation of the hero of Sherwood Forest.

With Maid Marian (Bernadette O’Farrell) Richard recently completed a personal appearance tour of the United States. This tour took the pair right across America, and wherever they went they were mobbed. Richard Greene, who had thought the trip might turn out to be absolute torture, came home beaming.

‘They really loved us, and it’s so good to know that you’re really appreciated,’ he said. ‘Without a live audience you can never tell.’

Alan Wheatley, who plays the Sheriff, also has testimony that his villainy is not wasted on apathetic viewers. Recently he was involved in a near car crash. The other driver got out, looked him up and down and said, ‘What a pity I didn’t run into you. My daughter absolutely loathes you, and if I had smashed your car I’d really have been her hero for life.’

Thirty-six year old Plymouth born actor Richard Greene was only three years of age when he had his first walking-on part. He learned most of his acting with the Brandon Thomas Repertory Company in Glasgow and Edinburgh.

He was twenty-two and earning eight pounds a week when one of Daryl Zanuck’s talent scouts saw him and he was flown to Hollywood to co-star with Loretta Young in his first picture.

A long and distinguished film career followed, broken only by service with the Army, from which he was discharged as a lieutenant in 1944.

Robin Hood is his first television series, although he starred in many live drama productions in America. In off-duty hours you will often find ‘Robin Hood’ sailing his yacht at Cowes with the same enthusiasm as he displays in being a landlubber on the set.

Bernadette O’Farrell was born twenty-nine years ago in Co. Offaly in Erin’s Isle. After giving up ballet she went to work in a solicitor’s office. A series of introductions led her, via Sir Carol Reed, to Frank Launder and Sydney Gilliat. They gave her a small part in a film, Captain Boycott. As a result of this she was offered a Rank contract, which she courageously refused, and instead went into repertory. Then followed a television play for the BBC, and back to films with the Launder-Gilliat partnership. One of her most important parts was in the film Gilbert and Sullivan, but the connection with this production team has paid even bigger dividends, for Bernadette is now Mrs. Frank Launder.

The lead in The Buccaneers is played by twenty-nine year old Robert Shaw, now under a seven-year contract to the makers of the series. Bob plays the part of the swashbuckling Captain Dan Tempest, pirate turned King’s man.

Robert Shaw is well suited to this athletic part. He has played rugby for the Wasps, one of London’s top rugger clubs; his school quarter-mile record still stands; he is an expert swordsman and a great squash enthusiast.

But quite apart from his athletic prowess, Shaw is a very fine actor. He stepped straight into his Buccaneers role from the London Old Vic Company, where he played in many Shakespearian dramas, including King Lear, Antony and Cleopatra, and The Merchant of Venice. His prowess in this field took him to Stratford Memorial Theatre, where he played during the annual Shakespeare festivals. His first film role was as Richard Todd’s sergeant pilot friend in The Dam Busters.

Off stage, Bob writes as well. His first play, Off the Mainland, has had a West End run, and his second, Retreat, is also expected to see the light of London’s theatre land.

Robert Shaw is the eldest of a family of five. His father is a doctor. Born on August 9th, 1927, he was educated at Truro in Cornwall. At the Old Vic School he met Jennifer Bauke who has since become his wife.

An early sword fight while he was filming The Buccaneers resulted in Bob’s over-enthusiastic opponent running him through the left hand. However, he is generally considered as tough as the character he portrays and well able to look after himself. While filming in Devonshire early in 1955 Robert was challenged by fellow actor Donald Houston to swim the tricky ship-filled Fowey harbour. It was three o’clock in the morning. At four o’clock Bob was safely in bed, having won his middle of the night wager.

The stories which make up The Adventures of Sir Lancelot are, historically, the oldest of all the cloak and dagger series shown on Associated Television. The two leading parts of Sir Lancelot and King Arthur are played by William Russell and Ronald Leigh-Hunt.

Sir Lancelot’s adventures have been the subject of some of the most beautiful epic poems in the English language. The sword Excalibur, which plays a prominent role, is of course an integral part of English legendary history. So are the damsels in distress, which are admirably adaptable from literary form to television screen, and which are constantly engaging the chivalrous Lancelot’s attentions.

A visit to Nettlefold Studios will reveal a wonderfully reconstructed Anglo-Saxon village with huts, sheep, goats and costumes transporting one into a world of pre-Norman Conquest days – a world which film-makers rarely tread. Location scenes for these particular films have to be shot in Kent, where the company requisitioned Allington Castle. Allington is a fitting site for such activity since its long history has included settlement by Ancient Britons, Romans and Saxons.

From pre-Norman times, a hasty leap of eight centuries takes us into the times of Sir Percy Blakeney, central figure of Baroness Orczy’s The Scarlet Pimpernel. Marius Goring who plays the title role has regularly astonished viewers with the variety of his disguises. A Parisian woman flower seller one moment, he will turn up seconds later as a Chinese decorator, only to reappear at court after a ‘fade-out’ dressed in all the foppery that marked the days when George the Third ruled England in heart when not in mind.

Goring entered into the role with immense enthusiasm. ‘I enjoyed playing the Pimpernel,’ he says. ‘He embodies everyone’s ideal of a hero; a man who, for no personal gain, risked his life for the innocent. It’s a strange thought that his antagonists were the people who shouted, “Liberte, Egalite, Fraternite!”’

George Dolenz flings himself into The Count of Monte Cristo with equal zest. George is an American citizen by naturalization. He was born in Trieste, and after several years of not knowing whether he was Italian or Slav he emigrated to South America before settling down in California. A regular screen performer since his arrival in the States, George now has a son in the same line of business. The son, following his father’s footsteps, has recently starred in an American tv series called Circus Boy. They exchanged letters from studios an ocean apart. For while Dolenz Junior worked in Hollywood, father spent several months in England filming the Monte Cristo series at Elstree.

So the months go by, and with them our heroes progress from strength to strength. Like the stirring tales from which they take their being, it looks as though their popularity need never fear a decline, for as long as heroes and hero-worship exist there will be room for Robin Hood, Dan Tempest, Sir Lancelot and Sir Percy on the screens of British television.

The post Cloak and Dagger Heroes appeared first on THIS IS MY 1950s from Transdiffusion.

Lest it be thought that all Commercial Television imports are for adult audiences, mention must be made of one of the youngsters’ great favourites: Roy Rogers, King of the Cowboys. With his horse Trigger and Bullet the dog, Roy needs little introduction. In fact, his faithful animal friends are now accepted by many people as naturally as their two-legged companion. When Trigger last visited England he stepped from his plane, bowed to a host of friends waiting to greet him, and proceeded to hold a press conference inside one of Britain’s largest hotels!

The famous Palomino stallion often works with Bullet, Roy’s German shepherd dog, in bringing to justice the criminals Roy and his wife Dale pursue in the territory around Paradise Valley. As special trappings for the famous horse Roy has a hand-tooled set of saddle, martingale and bridle (plus chaps and spurs for himself) which are valued at 50,000 dollars.

But Roy is only one of the filmed attractions for younger viewers. Other favourites include Lassie, the dog with near-human attributes, and Superman, the man whose superhuman capabilities enable him to perform feats which we ordinary humans only achieve in our sleep.

Yes, there’s certainly something for everyone in the American programmes ATV is bringing to our British screens.

The post Roy Rogers appeared first on THIS IS MY 1950s from Transdiffusion.

ATV’s policy of experiment paid in a big way with My Little Margie. I Love Lucy was a proven success. My Little Margie was not. But within three weeks of the programme replacing Lucy on the Midlands ATV station it was the top rating programme.

Gale Storm, who plays Margie, started her stage career by winning the Texas branch of a competition to play in Gateway to Hollywood. She met the winner of the same contest from Indiana; a year later they were married. Gale had the unfortunate habit of being on the verge of motherhood every time her film studio wanted her to make a picture. Eventually she was pinned down, but five pictures in four months (opposite Donald O’Connor, Dan Duryea, Audie Murphy and Dennis O’Keefe) meant too much time away from her family, so she opted out of her contract.

With the success of My Little Margie has come a host of film offers, but this series and a radio series of the same title keep Gale occupied full time.

Co-starring with her in My Little Margie is Charles Farrell, one of the big names of silent films. Many of you may remember him in the classic film, Seventh Heaven, in which he played the lead opposite Janet Gaynor.

Margie’s career progresses through a series of hilarious incidents. She tries a permanent lipstick and it comes off on her boss’s best client; she lands her friends in jail after they have made her believe that she is radio-active.

Acting talent plus good script-writing have turned My Little Margie into yet another successful domestic comedy series.

The post My Little Margie appeared first on THIS IS MY 1950s from Transdiffusion.

Robert Cummings plays the part of Robert S. Beanblossom, a well-meaning but not very successful real estate salesman, who is the central character of My Hero. Beanblossom is so pleasant and human a character that even his long-suffering boss, played by John Litel, forgives him his failings. Most of these failings are caused by Beanblossom’s continual association with life’s ‘have nots’ in the shape of tramps, lay-abouts, stray cats and off-beat characters of all descriptions.

His girl friend, played by lovely Julie Bishop, has faith that eventually Beanblossom will emerge triumphant, and it is because all his failures seem to be motivated by a spark of original genius that she continues to regard him as her hero.

Robert Cummings came to London to acquire a British accent at a time when this form of speech was a la mode in New York. As a result, Cummings returned to Broadway and full employment, with the prospect of a very bright film career just around the corner. Since then he has made Kings’ Row and Dial M for Murder, and, but for a break during the war to serve as a flying instructor, he has grown in acting stature until this day, when he is one of the most sought-after performers in films and on television.

The post My Hero appeared first on THIS IS MY 1950s from Transdiffusion.

One of the most frequently quoted fallacies in show business is that people must love an artist in order to watch him. In this country Gilbert Harding was one of the first to stick pins into this balloon of false belief, and now Liberace has killed the maxim for good and all.

No other artist can have a larger following of admirers and loathers than this flamboyant pianist with the brilliant technique and the smooth air of self-confidence. Loved and hated by millions, Liberace takes himself very seriously. Every week we can watch him at his very grand piano smiling, winking and purring at his very large audience. He plays anything from popular classics to the latest pop song, and his mood changes with the music; gay for Hot Diggity, tragic for Beethoven. Even those who find his manner most irritating admit, if grudgingly, that Liberace is no fool as an entertainer, and a first-class technician to boot.

In an age of highly publicised performers it has taken a great deal to build up the Liberace legend. Thirty-six-year-old Liberace has a house with a piano-shaped swimming pool, a car with a piano-shaped dashboard, a ring with piano-shaped stones – in short, his life has been shaped by the piano.

A recent cabaret engagement in Las Vegas netted Wladziu Valentino Liberace, to give him his full name, £25,000 [£640,000 today allowing for inflation]. He has packed the Carnegie Hall and the Albert Hall, Madison Square Gardens and the Hollywood Bowl. In Chicago he once played to 80,000 servicemen at one session. To top his 78 telefilms and 50 concert engagements a year he has now entered the world of motion pictures, and hearsay has it that we can now expect a piano-shaped screen to replace the old wide one!

When he arrived in this country for a concert tour and television appearances, Liberace was given a royal welcome at Waterloo Station, which had been cordoned off for hours before his arrival by the alert station authorities. Even so, several thousand fans were waiting for the ‘Liberace Special’ to steam in.

His sternest critics – almost without exception, male – were confounded by his first British television appearance in Sunday Night at the Palladium. Despite the fact that he is not used to ‘live’ television appearances – the majority of his American TV shows are filmed – Liberace proved himself to be an expert showman with a line in comedy patter. So great was the ovation he received, that within three weeks he was back at the London Palladium for another Sunday programme by popular request of the viewers.

A remarkable phenomenon, this Liberace, whom English audiences have now been able to see at first hand. He has left an indelible piano-shaped print on many a middle-aged lady’s heart – so many of them see in him the portrait of an ideal son.

The post Liberace appeared first on THIS IS MY 1950s from Transdiffusion.

I Love Lucy holds a hitherto unchallenged position as the most popular domestic comedy series ever devised for this, or any other medium. In the USA the programme has a regular following of 50,000,000, while throughout its run in this country it has figured prominently in the ‘Top Ten’ ratings.

A superbly scripted comedy series, I Love Lucy tells the story of a young married couple, Lucy and Ricky, who live in a comfortable New York apartment. Ricky is a band leader and Lucy has an almost overpowering ambition to join him in show business. Ricky has always felt that a woman’s place is in the home, and therefore does all he can to thwart his wife’s efforts to get on the stage.

Their married life is explored with charming intimacy, and despite the hilarity (and some alarming quarrels), one is never in doubt that Ricky and Lucy are very much in love.

The tremendous success of the series rests on the twin talents of the real-life husband and wife team of Desi Arnaz and Lucille Ball. Desi Arnaz really is a bandleader off the screen, and leads one of New York’s plushiest Latin-American combos. Lucille Ball is a film star comedienne who has starred with her husband in The Long Long Trailer, and more recently in Forever Darling. Desi, incidentally, produced both these pictures.

The phenomenal success of I Love Lucy has enabled the husband and wife team to form Desilu Productions, a firm which owns not only its own programme but also film studios, television stations, and the programmes of many other performers besides.

Lucy was first shown in this country during the opening week of Independent Television in September 1955, and by the time the Midlands and Lancashire transmitters had opened the programme was on view to some million people.

The post I Love Lucy appeared first on THIS IS MY 1950s from Transdiffusion.