Is our television in a box?
In the week the latest US television sensation was unveiled in Britain in a fog of fag smoke, I smiled sadly to see the dear old Daily Telegraph trumpeting its latest offer.
The American series is, of course, Mad Men. I've watched the first episode three times now - twice on air (on BBCs 4 and 2) and once (so far) via BBC iPlayer (a highly recommended gizmo).
It looks as though it will be every bit as good as the hype suggests.
Whatever is going to happen to the narrative arc as they call it in the business, it's obvious that a great deal of thought has gone into its creation.
There are brilliant, amusing and knowing references for the benefit of today's audiences (fax machines and Nixon). The writing is sharp, the characters full of hidden depths, the period detail spot on.
Because the performers are all unknowns they bring no baggage from other parts. Imagine how hard it's going to be for James Gandolfini to be in another TV series - which is why the wonderful Edie Falco has gone back to stage work.
Best of all, Mad Men is aimed at grown-ups with IQs that run up to the high double figures.
Compare and contrast the Telegraph championing the "brilliant" British series Kingdom. Yes, they were giving away DVDs to bolster their circulation - it does work, as I can tell you from my days in newspaper management.
While Mad Men owes a debt to The Sopranos, Kingdom, in its 9pm Sunday night slot, is in a direct line from cosy, unchallenging and patronising bilge like Last of the Summer Wine and, more particularly, Lovejoy.
I'm sure it's making Fry oodles of money (his production company, Sprout, is one of two behind the show). I'm equally sure it's attracting famous TV faces to appear because national treasure Fry is attached to the brand.
And like Lovejoy, Herriot, Doc Martin, Monarch of the Glen, Hamish Macbeth and the rest, it cynically exploits the chocolate box elements of its location.
Why is so much British television extended plugs for the various national tourist boards?
Incidentally, like the Richard Curtis take on England in his films, the setting is spurious.
Many years ago, I used to be a district reporter covering the town of Market Shipborough (aka Swaffham). Unless global warming has hit Norfolk in a way I'm not aware of, the nearest beach is 30 miles away.
If it's not doing smug and cosy, British TV is going for gritty and grim - the Shameless sector.
And don't tell me Sunday's The Last Enemy proves me wrong. It's straight out of the Spooks franchise.
If you want confusing but compelling, go instead to Damages on Mondays. Yes, it has learned tricks from Lost, but it's simply much classier - and has a compelling central performance from Cruella de Vil, aka Glenn Close.
It's American, of course.
Who agrees with me that the Beeb should bring back Play for Today?
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