The Turn of the Screw (Ghostwatch (DVD))

Member Name: greenierexyboy

Product:	Ghostwatch (DVD)
Date:	31/10/09 (122 review reads)
Rating:

Advantages: A potentially pants-filling viewing experience

Disadvantages: Some people can't abide having their pants filled

It took the artistic genius of Orson Welles, Joseph Cotton and the Mercury Theatre to send America into a mass media-triggered panic. In Britain, we got by on an ex-Blue Peter presenter and her blandly smug husband, an infuriating professional Scouser...and Parky.

How did THAT happen?


** 'Oh, Whistle and I'll Come to You, My Lad' **

Well, back in the America of 1938, the hysteria surrounding Orson Welles and his radio production of H.G.Wells' 'The War Of The Worlds' can be put down to a nation scarred and easily scared, trying to claw its way out of the Great Depression, and the kind of place where families would gather round the radio to share in the only form of broadcast information/entertainment generally available to a domestic audience. But surely the Britain of 1992 had transcended that 'amazing speaky-speaky box in the corner' mentality? Surely we were far more sophisticated and media-savvy? So, what exactly was OUR excuse?

Well, while there are certain political and economic circumstances uniting the times and places (in 1992 we'd just come off the back of the Gulf War and the economy was in a downturn), the main unifying factor between these two cultural cataclysms is clear: present something in a 'realistic' fashion and a large swathe of the population will ignore all the evidence to the contrary and assume that they're witnessing the truth.

'Ghostwatch' originally aired on BBC1 at 9.25pm on Halloween in 1992, the climax of the channel's autumn season of 'Screen One' original dramas. The writer, Stephen Volk, had envisaged a six-part series featuring psychic investigations, but was eventually convinced by his producer to make a one-off show of the planned final episode. The aim was to provide both a good old-fashioned ghost story and a healthy dollop of media satire, sprinkled with the type of conceits of which Nigel 'Quatermass' Kneale would be proud. The programme was written and filmed to resemble a cutting-edge live outside broadcast (indeed, many of the video effects used in the show were entirely new to television at the time but would become standard, such as the screen tear-off). To achieve the 'live' feel was a considerable logistical and technical exercise, with all the footage from the house pre-shot and edited in order for it to be used in the studio for the cast therein to interact with.

The critical conceit of 'Ghostwatch', and presumably the one that caused most trouble for the 'troubled' portion of its audience, was the casting of four BBC personalities as themselves. Anchoring the show from the studio was chat show doyenne and national treasure Michael Parkinson. Leading the team inside the haunted house was ex-'Blue Peter' and then-current 'Going Live' presenter Sarah Greene. Presiding over the phones alongside Parky was Greene's real-life husband (a fact heavily leveraged for dramatic effect) Mike 'Smithy' Smith (part of the death-rattle of the 'Smashy and Nicey' school of DJing and one of very few media celebrities capable of making Noel Edmonds seem hilarious and charismatic by simply standing next to him). Finally the on-street reporter was comic actor / former beat-poet Craig Charles. The technical crew seen on screen (such as the sound and cameraman within the house) are usually real professionals within their field who didn't mind appearing on screen, and some of the bystanders in the street scenes are just locals who were interested in the filming. All the other parts were played by actors, often actors who'd appeared in other BBC Saturday night dramas, which made the inability of some couch potatoes to grasp the fiction of what they were watching all the sillier.


** 'Casting The Runes' **

The show opens (after the critical brief cast listing and 'by Stephen Volk' byline, apparently demanded by the Beeb at the last minute) with Parky in a BBC studio, in front of a slightly naff-looking fireplace. (One suspects that any on-screen naffness is largely intentional: all part of the striving for the authentically cringy feel of an OB). There is a warning given that the programme may be found disturbing by some viewers and then a brief taster of what might disturb: video footage from psychic researchers of middle-of-the-night pipe-banging and lamp-exploding. This serves to introduce the house in question...a detached council affair in a North London cul-de-sac. In the studio we meet the psychic researcher 'Dr Lynn Pascoe' who will act as the voice of the believer to counteract Parkinson's journalistic scepticism, and back outside the house a similarly dubious Craig Charles is obviously treating the whole thing as a lark.

His attitude does rather grate when he interviews the obviously traumatised occupants of the house. 'Pamela Early' and her two daughters (the teenage 'Suzanne' and younger 'Kim') relate the effect that events in the house have wrought on them. The children tell him that their mother initially believed that they were behind the myriad of loud bangings and flying objects, but that they'd now christened their unwelcome visitor 'Pipes' due to its favoured outlet of using the central heating to make an unholy racket.

And for a while, nothing happens. Not at the house anyway, as Sarah Greene bobs for apples with the children and Craig Charles natters to the locals. In the studio, Parky continues to discuss psychic phenomena and research with Pascoe, taking the opportunity to play a tape of the older Early child apparently speaking in a ridiculously deep and 'possessed' voice. Callers start to ring the phone lines, some articulating slightly dull tales of their brushes with the supernatural, but a few, disconcertingly, have rung up to claim they could see someone/thing standing in front of the curtains in the children's bedroom on the video played at the start of the show: even more disconcertingly, when the tape is played back at the request of Pascoe, it's obvious there IS some sort of figure to be made out, but both Parky and Pascoe seem unable to perceive it.

And then...things DO start to happen. Callers to the studio serve to gradually unravel the location's rather grisly past. Events, explicable and inexplicable, gradually ratchet up the sense of malady in the house. Where did the wet patch in the living room come from? Why have the clocks stopped? Is what's happening centred on the daughters or not? What's the significance of the little 'glory-hole' cupboard under the stairs? And most terrifying of all, will Mike Smith's worry for his wife's wellbeing lead to a rescue involving his renowned helicopter-piloting skills?


** 'Number 13' **

When critically considering 'Ghostwatch', the first question that must be answered is 'is it actually scary?'. Well frankly, yes it is. Deliciously so at times. The viewer hardly sees anything unpleasant or untoward, but it's sufficiently well-written and shot to never need such amateur-hour theatrics. The script is lean and tight, with the opening 45 minutes (during which the lazy viewer might mumble 'why is nothing actually going on?') packed with details that pay off totally during the final act: this is a programme that it pays to pay attention to. The 'reality tricks' (remote cameras, handheld cameras, use of infra-red) seem naturalistic, so there's nothing in the presentation that gives the show away as fiction. And there is a deep and fundamental understanding of the old 'it's what you don't see that scares you' chestnut: there are a few half-glimpses of...something, but never long enough for the viewer to fully take in what they're beholding at anything more than a subliminal level. What should suggest it's not real is what actually happens: as noted film critic Kim Newman has pointed out, a real haunted house is never THIS exciting. And so it is that the painstaking build-up is indeed excellent, but it's slightly undone by an ending which is very clever and scarcely 'Hollywood' but sufficiently over the top to damage the bubble of reality that the show has worked so hard to fabricate.

And then there's the acting. Surprisingly, it's the professional performers who are occasionally the problem: some are excellent, but others are wooden (the younger sister is much more convincing that the older, for instance, and there are occasions where it's obvious that Gillian Bevan as Pascoe isn't quite comfortable in her scenes with the untrained amateur Parky). But the pleasant surprise is how well the 'trick' of using real people playing themselves works: it's notoriously awkward to play a written version of yourself even if you are a thesp, and huge credit should go to the leading four. Craig Charles, apparently picked for his 'man of the people' vibe (even if this writer thinks that his 'affable friendliness' is of the type that makes you cross the road when you see him, rather than risk his talking to you) does a very effective transition from 'prattishly flippant and disbelieving' to 'erm, I'm just a bit out of my depth here', whilst Mike Smith (who looks hilariously camp on the DVD cover) is his usual oasis of smarm at first before convincingly attempting to maintain his professionalism while growing increasingly concerned about his wife.

But the real stars are Michael Parkinson and Sarah Greene. Parky emits his usual sense of authority and control, the very personification of both the slightly softer Yorkshireman and the consummate television pro: hilariously, he got a Bafta nomination as a result. And perhaps one shouldn't be surprised at just how good Sarah Greene is: she was a trained actress before joining Blue Peter, and one suspects playing the part of someone trying to stay calm and focussed while all manner of terrifying things are unfolding around her seemed easy to someone who'd had to front the phone-ins on 'Going Live' (after all, just how perturbing is an evil ghost such as 'Pipes' once you've had to keep a straight face when some caller has just asked Five Star 'why are you so f***ing crap?' live on air at 10am on a Saturday morning?)


** 'Like Dante meets Bosch in a crack lounge!' **

Anyway, the producers obviously anticipated SOME viewers not realising that what was unfolding in front of their eyes was a scripted drama rather than a real outside broadcast, as they ensured that there were a few people manning phones connected to the number that flashed up on screen during the show as it was transmitted: these staff would offer to listen to any tales of the supernatural that the callers may wish to tell, but were principally there to tell anyone ringing up that 'Ghostwatch' was pure fiction. Unfortunately, they underestimated the reaction. Y'know, just a smidge.

==========

(Before you read the next section...please appreciate that I am NOT laughing at the people who were scared by 'Ghostwatch'. I understand that we're not all frightened by the same things (I've watched too much horror for something of this ilk to seriously burrow under my skin, but sweet Jesus you should see the wreck I'm reduced to by anything with eight legs and compound eyes) and there's nothing wrong or 'weak' with being spooked. Especially any children who watched it...I can but sympathise hugely : I suspect a hypothetical viewing of this by my ten year old self would have led to more than a few sleepless nights. What I refuse to take seriously are the whinings of adults who weren't genuinely offended or frightened so much as embarrassed at having been so obviously duped, and more particularly parents who allowed their children to watch the programme (a programme transmitted at 9:25pm and titled 'Ghostwatch', lest we forget) and then had the temerity to complain that their offspring had been mortified.

As far as I can find out, the one clanger the Beeb dropped in its publicity for the show was Sarah Greene mentioning it on 'Going Live' on the Saturday morning immediately preceding transmission: this may well have pricked the interest of a lot of children, but I personally don't think it absolves parents from responsibility for what said children watch).

==========

According to the show's producer, during the peak five minutes of the collective mania triggered as 'Ghostwatch' played out a mere half a million people rang that poor shattered phone number. The police in Northolt (the location of the fictional outside broadcast) took countless calls of their own asking for someone to go and rescue that nice Sarah Greene and the children from the haunted house. But that was as nothing as to the controversy that followed. One woman claimed that her husband had soiled himself watching the show, and wished to be reimbursed for the dry cleaning. A letter accused the Beeb of allowing a flood of evil spirits to enter the world, while another fumed about the Corporation allowing the two young actresses playing the daughters to be 'gruesomely mutilated'. The British Medical Journal published several articles accusing 'Ghostwatch' of being the first television show ever to trigger post-traumatic-stress-disorder in children. And, tragically, the parents of an 18-year-old man (with a mental age of 13) blamed the show for triggering his suicide. All of this, predictably, was fanned by a print media whose public disapproval of the BBC's treachery was doubtless matched by gleeful rubbing of hands in private.The inability of large swathes of the audience to distinguish between fact and fantasy is rather eloquently born out in this contemporary episode of the Beeb's 'Points Of View with a studio audience' programme, 'Bite Back':

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UUyhN-gq8xk
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vgrI5ZRuKdc&fe ature=related

(Take special note of Mr 'I Don't Want To Nibble, I Want To Bite!' at about 4'40 in the second clip, later tragically killed when his archive of 20 years of Daily Mail back issues collapsed on him).


** 'Slamming the wasps from the pure apple of truth...' **

Given the media firestorm just described the BBC, as the nation's public service broadcaster, was obliged to respond, and encouragingly came down resoundingly on the side of the programme makers.

==========

'The BBC would like to apologise unreservedly for any distress caused by the transmission of 'Ghostwatch' on the 31st October.

We accept full responsibility for any children of the nation who were terrified, because it's 100% down to us, the BBC (not their parents, oh no sirree...they'd have been powerless to change channels or send the kids to bed after all), to ensure that they don't watch anything after the 9 o'clock watershed. We plan to install BBC Nannies in every household to make sure that our children are kept safe, and we're sure you'll agree that a marginal increase in the license fee (to £30000 per household) is a small price to pay for such peace of mind.

We are utterly culpable for all of the women who went into labour during the show...I mean, it's not like about 12 women enter labour every 90 mins anyway, is it? Oh, actually they do, come to think. But still, our culpa.
We didn't build nearly enough clues that it wasn't real into the programme and its associated publicity...because it's a well-known fact that factual television looks exactly the same as 'Ghostwatch' in every detail. Notice how 'Match of the Day' has a cast-list of actors in the Radio Times, and how 'Question Time' is always prefaced by a credit along the lines of 'by Alan Bennett'. And we'd never noticed before how BBC News reports often feature actual cast members from 'Casualty' portraying members of the public.

Yes indeedy, we are totally to blame for everything that went wrong. We were stupid when we believed that the presence of the word 'Ghost' in the title might lead the responsible viewer to think that ghosts might be involved and that it might be a little on the scary side. By way of recompense, we are offering all traumatised viewers a year's supply of spaghetti direct from one of Italy's leading spaghetti farms.

And the performers will be punished, mark our words. We've already booked someone called 'Meg Ryan' onto Michael Parkinson's chat show, and we've told Craig Charles that we've taken steps to ensure that all future series of 'Red Dwarf' won't be nearly as funny.'

*****

Alas, the above isn't what happened at all. The BBC did react, but you can work out the exact nature of that response from the fact that the DVD under review is published by the BFI rather than Auntie Beeb herself: indeed, 'Ghostwatch' has NEVER been repeated since original transmission, and although it is no longer formally banned by the Beeb it's highly unlikely that the Corporation will ever show it again. But the BFI's interest in the programme suggests we're looking at an important moment in broadcasting history, and indeed we are: even if one doesn't like the programme itself, one has to concede that the response to it is deeply symptomatic of the gradual shrinking of the BBC's balls. Saturday nights would rarely contain anything remotely challenging again: goodbye Stephen Volk, hello Andrew Lloyd-Sodding-Webber. 'And Noel Edmonds? As you were.'

And so we come to this DVD. Having chuckled at the '12' rating (yes, civilisation was nearly ended by something legally viewable by 12 year olds), the purchaser will discover a few quite tasty extras. Chief amongst them is a commentary track by the writer (Stephen Volk), the director (Lesley Manning) and producer (Ruth Baumgarten), during which they ruminate in a quite entertaining and informative way about the challenges of getting the concept on-screen as they'd imagined it, the difficulty of making it 'scary' without being allowed to use most of the standard horror tricks, and the shockingly seismic reaction to the show. There's a short documentary by the director specifically addressing the technicalities of the effect they were striving for, copies of Volk's original treatment and screenplay, and another ghost story by the author, a seriously black little tale of grieving parents and deadly memories.


** 'Now that is scientific fact - there's no real evidence for it - but it is scientific fact' **

While Ghostwatch itself was obviously heavily influenced in its method of spinning a fictional tale by using the methods of the factual media by such obvious examples as 'The War Of The Worlds', it would seem to have triggered a new wave of interest in this form of story telling. In the near 17 years since its transmission, we have seen films such as 'The Blair Witch Project' (imagine how effective that would have been if you DIDN'T know it was a film?), 'Cloverfield' and numerous others, television shows such as 'The Day Today' and 'Brass Eye', and all the while the worldwide phenomenon of 'reality tv' (with its manipulation via editing of supposedly 'true' footage) has become the cathode ray staple of the age. As a race, as a nation, we have become far more media-conscious...possibly harder to deceive...and yet still collectively dumber. Go figure.

And today, still 'Ghostwatch' casts its shadow. Just to show there's nothing original in this world, Living TV has based its entire business plan around a fictitious supernatural show featuring a former Blue Peter presenter, her husband and an annoying Scouse bloke.

'What's that Sam? The spirit is telling you he's called Pipes? Sam, you've gone a bit pale, even taking into account your being dead. Sam, why are you legging it? Sam? SAM? Calm down, calm down, calm down...'

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KnTk4lFYaVw - trailer for upcoming documentary 'Ghostwatch - Behind The Curtains'

Out of print at the moment: used copies obtainable for £25ish via Amazon. Or watchable on YouTube...not that I told you that.

(Also available on the other channel).

Summary: Parky brings about televisual armageddon