This article was originally published in The Dundee Courier on 14th May 2016.
Attenborough at 90: Sunday, BBC One
Upstart Crow: Monday, BBC Two
Paul Whitelaw
This
year marks the 90th birthday of a truly beloved British monarch,
whose regal humility and tireless dedication have enriched millions of lives
around the world. I am of course talking about Sir David Attenborough, the
reigning king of Natural History television.
It’s
impossible to avoid gushing praise when discussing Attenborough, because quite
simply he deserves it. How many people can claim to have fundamentally changed
the way we see the world? How many broadcasters are synonymous with the
evolution of television itself? A serene emblem of the BBC at its world-beating
best, his natural ability to communicate and inform is second to none. He’s one
of the greatest broadcasters in the history of the medium, and we’ll almost
certainly never see his like again.
So
no wonder the BBC has gone all out in celebrating his 90th summer on
Earth, a planet he’s taught us more about than anyone else in his field. The
centrepiece of their ongoing season of archival treats was Attenborough at 90, an affable, touching, studio-based salute
hosted by another consummate broadcaster, Kirsty Young.
Sprawled
on a couch like a slightly crumpled yet still-spry deity, Attenborough was in
delightful raconteur mode as he regaled the audience with a welter of
anecdotes.
While
all the usual clips were present and correct – let’s face it, we’ll never tire
of those gorillas – the programme also served as a reminder that Attenborough
was a pioneer, not only in the field of conservationism awareness and – in
tandem with his peerless backroom boffins - technological advancements in
Natural History filmmaking, but also across every genre of television via his
progressive stewardship of BBC Two in the ‘60s.
Initially
hired by the BBC as a producer, he basically fell into presenting by accident.
Had he not decided to focus his energies on hosting documentaries, he would’ve
probably ended up as Director General at one point. Executive management’s loss
was a grateful nation’s gain.
Though
he shows no sign of slowing down as such, Attenborough’s skill as a presenter
is, alas, a dying discipline. Always devoted to his subject first and foremost,
his programmes are never about him. He’s an informed guide, a benign teacher, a
beacon of integrity and passion. The man owns a dinosaur egg, for heaven’s
sake. Need I say more? Happy birthday, your Lordship.
Following
the catastrophic disaster of The Wright
Way – a sitcom so hackneyed it felt like a parody – it seemed that Ben
Elton had finally lost it for good. A prolific talent in his ‘80s pomp, the man
who co-wrote classics such as The Young
Ones and Blackadder had since
become a byword for selling out and treading water; a sad shadow of his former
self.
So,
you could’ve knocked me down with a pig’s bladder when I found myself laughing
– actually laughing! – at Upstart Crow,
his breezy new sitcom starring David Mitchell as a hapless William Shakespeare.
Swathed
in welcome traces of Blackadder, it
plays to his strengths via ridiculously wordy, witty dialogue, knowingly
farcical contrivances, winningly broad performances and even – via genuinely
pointed swipes at the Oxbridge mafia – a little bit of politics (yes indeed,
ladies and gentlemen).
It’s
funny, intelligent, self-aware and clearly the work of a re-energised writer
who, for obvious reasons, feels he has something to prove again. It’s as if the
real Ben Elton has suddenly woken up after 25 years in a nightmarish trance. A
remarkable comeback.
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