Two years on from the death of screenwriter and actor Colin Welland, writer Simon Farquhar takes a look back at his work.

When Colin Welland received his Oscar in 1982 for the screenplay of Chariots of Fire, he made a special point of thanking British television, “where I learnt my craft”. Throughout the previous decade, having already established himself as an earthy, honest actor in , he regularly brought those same artisan qualities to his plays, many of which were national events. Fiercely committed to his Lancastrian roots, Welland notably wrote meaty roles for women as well as for the overgrown schoolboys they were often lumbered with. When I wrote his obituary for The Independent in 2015, I described his dramas as “works of sympathetic anger; neat, character-driven slices of life populated by straight-talking matriarchs and small-town dreamers”.

I knew Colin Welland slightly. I interviewed him twice, once in his local in Barnes in London, in 2003 and once at a BFI screening of his magnum opus, Leeds-United!, and in the years that followed, would occasionally be surprised by a telephone call from him. He could be an intimidating presence, but he was also twinkle-eyed and warm-hearted.

For me, he remains the definitive television writer, the one who exemplified the democratic nature of the medium. Anyone can watch a Colin Welland play and identify with it. His stories were everyday, human stories. But while he didn’t revolutionise the single play in the way that Dennis Potter strove to, that’s not to suggest that his works lacked ambition. was the most expensive British television film ever made at the time, a thunderous piece of big-screen film-making for the small screen that told the true story of a strike by Leeds clothing workers four years earlier. It was fearless in its , which in Welland's view had seen a workforce sold down the river, a vivid display of both the chaos of industrial relations in the 70s and the revolutionary spirit of so much television drama of the era.

Welland was alerted to the story by his mother-in-law, who had been involved in the strike. “They’d eventually gone back to work without knowing why. I was quite a big cheese at the time so I was able to go up there and talk to everyone involved, on all sides, and get the whole sorry story”.

Welland would certainly have been able to beguile the suits of the clothing business at that time: he was then one of the most famous faces in Britain. He was still a busy actor, having won a BAFTA for his performance as the fair-minded teacher, Mr Farthing, in Kes. Virtually every one of his television plays up to that point had won a Writers Guild Award or a BAFTA, and he’d also begun branching out as a presenter of sports, travel and health shows.

Although he was flattered by the critical acclaim his writing received, he said it would all count for nothing if he were greeted by an embarrassed silence back home in Lancashire. “I write from the stomach”, he told the Radio Times in 1970.

Welland wrote many dramas for the Play for Today slot. However, the first, , was something of a departure from his Northern roots. It was, in fact, a story he heard on the golf course.

“The Methodist minister in Barnes told me about this misfit character who had suddenly appeared in the congregation. He was riddled with guilt that he didn’t do more for this man who didn’t have a complete personality but just created whatever he thought was needed for himself, wherever he went”.

Beautifully directed by Alan Clarke (who would later direct tougher fare like Scum and The Firm), the play presents us with an innocent, Walter Mitty-like figure, tireless in his zealous desire to help out and muck in. The gradual awareness that he is not all he seems is fascinatingly depicted by the reserved, well-meaning little community, and the play is a fine example of two of the strongest characteristics of Welland’s work: sympathy, and a determination to find the humanity and morality in every character, rather than conveniently splitting people into heroes and villains.

Perhaps his most celebrated piece, , is the story of a humdrum coal miner (beautifully played by a BAFTA-winning Bill Maynard) who comes alive in middle age when he embarks on a fling with a barmaid. Thirteen years later, the story was filmed in Hollywood as Twice in a Lifetime, starring Gene Hackman. “The Americans weren’t used to stories like this being set among blue-collar workers, and really welcomed it”.

When I first interviewed Welland, British television drama was caught between a rock and a hard place. An hysterical reaction to the explosion of the internet and the multi-channel landscape had led to a sudden obsession with the bitesized, the tried-and-tested and the superficial. In a schedule suddenly drowning in docusoaps, lifestyle shows, cops and docs, we seemed as far away as it was possible to imagine from the days of Play for Today.

“People used to write to me back in the Seventies saying that they had been about to go out but been sucked into my plays because they recognised themselves”, he said. “I’ll give you an example of this. In Kisses at Fifty, after the couple have started this affair, he hasn’t told his wife, and there’s a little scene where he gets into bed beside her, thinking she’s asleep. And then out of nowhere, she says: ‘Harry… who’s this Audrey?’ You would not believe the amount of letters I had from people saying ‘how did you know? That’s exactly what my wife said when that happened to me”.

The lesser-known is a personal favourite, the tale of a small town Gilbert and Sullivan society preparing their production of Yeoman of the Guard and encountering a casting crisis. Do they give the part to the woefully ill-suited elder of the group or break his heart and award it to the young lion who looks set to become a star? It’s a little play about little things, but it’s absolutely riveting.

And then there’s , a love letter to the west of Ireland, a land Welland had fallen in love with through visiting his wife’s relatives there. It’s a rueful story of a young Belfast boy orphaned by The Troubles who is adopted by a rural aunt and uncle. Handsomely shot and tenderly told, more interested in peace than politics, it was, bafflingly, never repeated. How much this played a part in Welland moving away from television is debatable, but inevitably, the big screen was beckoning. However, despite the success of Chariots of Fire (uncharacteristically posh but another celebration of human spirit and defiance) and the equally-satisfying Yanks, the big screen was never really the natural home for his intimate storytelling.

His final years saw little new work produced, in fact in 1987, he was interviewed on the Ö÷²¥´óÐã’s Breakfast Time, and when asked what his next project was, revealed that he was writing a screenplay about George Stephenson. Fifteen years later, on the same programme, he gave the same answer. The film never appeared, perhaps proving that television truly was where his stories belonged. He was the Jimmy McGovern of his day, a writer driven by a love for the working-class community he came from, angered by injustice but, like McGovern, an optimist, whose stories usually ended in hope, not despair, celebrating the capabilities of… well, let’s call them everyday people.

joined the Ö÷²¥´óÐã in 1964 as secretary in Ö÷²¥´óÐã Enterprises – she then progressed to the Drama Serials Department where she worked up the ladder from Assistant Floor Manager to Associate Producer. She worked in Doctor Who, EastEnders, Silent Witness, Man in the Iron Mask, War and Peace and many other Ö÷²¥´óÐã productions. She left the staff in 1994 and worked as a freelancer until 2005 when she retired for production work – she occasionally works as a background artist.

What was your first job in the Ö÷²¥´óÐã? My first job was acting in the children’s drama which was transmitted live from Lime Grove. It was telerecorded then transmitted again in April. I also appeared in Jack in the Box, Women of Troy, The Common Room, The Lady from the Sea and Champion Road for the Ö÷²¥´óÐã plus Cool for Cats, Emergency Ward 10 and The Lonely World of Harry Braintree for ITV amongst others. These were whilst I was still at my school,The Arts Educational.

Were you ever mentioned on the Radio Times magazine? Or is there any particular magazine you have kept as souvenir?  I have never been interviewed for the Radio Times, only had my name listed in the casts of the above productions. I have kept the front covers of the Radio Times for the programmes I worked on as part of the production team, such as Prince Regent, War and Peace, plus many others. I also kept the supplement that came for War and Peace.

How do you use Ö÷²¥´óÐã Genome? And have you found any particular programme episode you are fond of? I sometimes look to to jog my memory of which actors were in certain series. I was particularly fond of any of the Francis Durbridge serials which always had wonderful cliff-hanger end of episodes!

Can you share any special memories you have of the programmes and features you worked in? It is very difficult to pick out any special memories from Doctor Who and many of the other productions I worked on, as they mostly have all been memorable. However a Dr Who I did with Patrick Troughton called gave me the chance to fly in a helicopter for the first time. As we took off from a cliff edge to go down to the beach, I screamed as I watched the earth disappear from beneath my feet which encouraged the pilot to swerve around, very exciting.

Another memorable moment was on a serial with Frank Finlay, when we were filming a scene on the Isle of Wight that involved convicts in chains. These 20 or so actors were costumed and made-up in Portsmouth and I had to get the ferry tickets and march the men on board with their chains clanking away to get them to the location.

Trudging 14 times up and down St, Michael's Mount in a day on is seared into my brain as is hiding in cars to cue the drivers on Z Cars before the days of walkie-talkies.

On we had a thousand Yugoslav soldiers for several days and the organisation involved in getting them ready and into position was impressive.

Filming in the centre of Bern for which involved closing the streets for a night shoot; Filming on in Switzerland and France was a challenge, especially the beach scenes with strong winds blowing away the parasols and having to reschedule due to the rain.

Shooting Old Men at the Zoo with wild animals was interesting, plus having to find enough male extras prepared to have their bottoms exposed for injections as part of one scene shot in a disused biscuit factory near Hereford.

Trying to shoot London street scenes for was problematical as it was supposed to be deserted of any moving traffic. I enjoyed filming in Bath on as to see the actors in period costumes in the actual places in the book was a delight.

When finding locations, the variety of places I have been to has added to my education: inside prisons, mortuaries, council flats then stately homes, hospitals, court rooms, the working end of crematoriums, factories, dock yards and airports.

Working with the Visual Effects on makes one a bit blasé about body parts and post mortems!

How important do you think it is to preserve the history of TV and radio listings? I think it is very important to preserve the history of TV and Radio listings to show future generations the breadth and level of productions of the past. Looking at the pages in the 1950s and comparing them with the present day listings, shows how trivial much of today's output has become. It is also a great reference source.

Gerard Glaister appears in many Radio Times credits from the 1950s through to the early 1990s as the producer of a string of well-remembered dramas.  His career encompassed British television from the days of live transmission, to all-film, single camera production at the dawn of the modern era.

He identified emerging trends in popular drama, and working with some of the most talented middle-range writers and directors – people who were never in danger of being labelled auteurs but knew how to tell a story – he was able to produce a high standard of material for nearly forty years.  Glaister perhaps had auteur inclinations of his own, as many of the series he worked on were devised by himself in collaboration with other writers, even if he rarely wrote the actual scripts.

Born in Hong Kong in December 1915, Glaister came from a medical family, with his uncle and grandfather both eminent forensic scientists.  Against the family tradition, Glaister was drawn to acting, and studied at RADA in the 1930s. He joined the RAF before the outbreak of the Second World War, and flew light bombers before serving in photo reconnaissance, ending up in a succession of important jobs in intelligence.

After the war he returned to the theatre, and ran companies at Luton and Aylesbury before he was invited to take charge of the Chesterfield Repertory Company in 1954. His first contact with television was as a writer, when his play , written with Gavin Holt, was adapted.  Ö÷²¥´óÐã Television expanded in the mid-1950s, and there was also demand for extra staff to replace those tempted over to the newly-opened ITV.  Glaister won a place on the Ö÷²¥´óÐã directors’ course, and spent six months studying the art of television, part of it under the aegis of legendary producer .

Glaister was then offered a contract as a producer/director, as producers were at the time expected to be able to take charge of a studio as well as supervise.  Until the very end of his career he chose never to be a full-time Ö÷²¥´óÐã staff member, but nevertheless worked almost exclusively for the Corporation for the whole of his TV career. This status however allowed him to take due credit when he co-devised a series – as a Ö÷²¥´óÐã staff member any such contribution would have been anonymous.

In the mid-50s much of Ö÷²¥´óÐã drama output was single plays, often taken from the theatre, but drama serials were increasing in number, and many (other than classic novel adaptations) were specially written. Another growing area was drama documentary – the technical difficulty of filming real life situations meant that it was easier to recreate then in the studio.  Glaister would contribute to all these areas as he learnt his craft. 

His first productions and were solely as a director, with a separate producer overseeing his work.  For his next job, J.B. Priestley’s , he handled production as well as directing in the studio. 1957 was his first year working for Ö÷²¥´óÐã TV, and he was busy with a total of five single plays, plus his first serial – , by crime novelist Michael Gilbert.

1958 would see Glaister handle only one play, as apart from a six-part serial by Berkely Mather called , he was busy producing  – the first Ö÷²¥´óÐã soap opera transmitted twice a week.  Glaister lasted for nearly nine months before handing over to a colleague for the remainder of this short-lived series.

The next two years saw Glaister return to the familiar pattern of plays and serials, the latter including , a series of two-part crime stories, half of which he also directed. One of the plays he handled in 1960 was a drama documentary, , which as the title suggests was about the drugs trade, set in Glaister’s birthplace, Hong Kong.

In December 1960 Glaister directed the first of eight episodes of the new crime series Maigret that he would handle in its first three years.  This was a very successful series, based on the novels by Georges Simenon. Programmes such as this, where regular characters featured in a different story each week, had developed since the mid-50s, as an alternative to single-shot plays or episodic serials.

As producer/director, Glaister was also in charge of another popular six-part thriller, , written by Robert Barr and starring Robert Hardy, which was set on the Hebridean island of Benbecula, and featured memorable a theme tune - an important element in the appeal of any series.  It would not be the last time Glaister featured a Scottish location in one of his productions.

During this time Glaister also made a rare foray outside the Ö÷²¥´óÐã, as he directed several episodes of the Edgar Wallace Mysteries. These were short second-feature cinema films, which were later also shown on television.

By 1963 he was ready to tackle another long Ö÷²¥´óÐã series as producer, and for the first time this was something that harked back to his wartime service:  the drama , which was about special agents of the SOE being flown into occupied France.  This was still produced live with little filming allowance, which constrained the realism of the show; sequences of Lysander aircraft bringing agents in had to be achieved with model shots – with less than convincing results.

Glaister bowed out of this series again before it finished, and spent the rest of the year directing an adaptation of Robert Louis Stevenson’s novels and its sequel Catriona. His work continued to have a Scottish flavour, as he directed half a dozen episodes of the popular period medical drama , which led to him being offered the producer’s job from ; he stayed for over a year. 

He next took over production of another series, , about an idealistic secondary school teacher, which was Glaister’s first series to be shown on Ö÷²¥´óÐã2.  Its earliest episodes were also shown by Ö÷²¥´óÐã Scotland (the equivalent of Ö÷²¥´óÐã1), as Ö÷²¥´óÐã2 was not yet available there – though the series was both set and made in that country.  So too was his next project (1966-68), about the elite Investigation Branch of Customs and Excise.

Later in 1968 Glaister drew on another aspect of his background, and made use of his uncle John Glaister as consultant, for , starring Marius Goring as pathologist Dr John Hardy.  This was the first continuing drama made in colour by the Ö÷²¥´óÐã, and so it had to be on Ö÷²¥´óÐã2 again, as the only channel broadcasting in colour at the time.  An intelligent and gripping series, though it got comparatively small audiences, it also saw Glaister credited as co-deviser for the first time, with writer N.J. Crisp.  There were four series of The Expert, Glaister producing the first three.

1971 saw Glaister begin a new business/family saga, , which would in fact sit on the shelf until 1972.  Again devised with N.J. Crisp, this became one of the big hits of the early- to mid-70s, straying into soap opera territory, with a boo-able villain with the advent of the unscrupulous Paul Merroney (Colin Baker).  Glaister would only remain producer until the end of the second series, which had seen one of the main actors replaced as he was no longer available after the delay in showing series 1.

1972 also saw Glaister return to World War Two for one of his greatest and best-remembered series – , devised with Brian Degas.  Based on the memoirs of Pat Reid, who got out of the ‘escape-proof’ fortress in 1942, there had been a film version in the 50s, and the Ö÷²¥´óÐã acknowledged its debt to that.  Co-producing the series with Universal Television meant casting could be more ambitious, with Robert Wagner and David McCallum among the leads – the former’s presence, before the entry of the US into the war, explained as his being an American pilot who volunteered for service with the RAF.

Colditz boasted high-quality scripts and some excellent performances, with Jack Hedley and Edward Hardwicke amongst the British prisoner contingent, and a superb Bernard Hepton as the German Kommandant. The in 1974 saw Anthony Valentine join as a Luftwaffe officer as second-in-command of the prison – another popular ‘baddie’.

Glaister found it hard at first to follow this success, as another idea with N.J. Crisp, , only ran for six episodes, and was the only time Glaister did not produce one of his own ideas. His topical drama was never as successful as the 1960s oil industry series The Troubleshooters. 

1976 saw no new series produced by Glaister, though he directed the first episode of the revived series of . He returned to production in 1977 with rural Scottish vet drama , starring Dr Finlay’s Bill Simpson, but he would only produce four of the thirteen episodes, and the series was not a hit.

However, success was just around the corner, as late 1977 saw the start of . A kind of thematic spin-off from Colditz (this time co-devised with Wilfred Greatorex), this concerned an organisation dedicated to helping shot-down Allied aircrews escape from occupied Europe. Set in Brussels, it benefitted from co-production with Belgian television, with some effective authentic location shooting.

Unlike earlier war stories, Secret Army featured strong female characters, but like Colditz showed both heroes and villains as multi-dimensional characters. The concept lent itself to a surprising range of stories, and gently educated viewers about everything from the stresses of life under Nazi occupation to bubonic plague, war-time German television experiments and the conflict between Communist and non-Communist sides of the resistance movement.

Glaister next produced airline drama , which again was not a huge hit, and only lasted one year – it is chiefly memorable for the lead character being called Tony Blair, though being made in 1980 the name had no other significance then. This was followed by another six-part thriller, , an exciting though slightly old-fashioned tale, despite featuring modern tropes like international terrorists.  It had originally been titled Blood Royal, and concerned the kidnap of a child in line to the throne – this was changed at the request of Buckingham Palace, to the son of a UN official, memories of the kidnap attempt on Princess Anne in the early 70s still being fresh in the mind.

The stand-out character in the series was Captain Percival, a suave ‘spook’ played by Michael Denison, who would go on to appear in two future Glaister-produced series, in 1983, and in 1984.

The shadow of Secret Army would not go away however. The final series had been slightly troublesome – while what appeared on screen was a satisfying conclusion, with the bizarre but historically correct execution of one of the German characters by his own side in a prisoner-of-war camp, there had been another episode made which was never screened.

Called What Did You Do In the War, Daddy?, the episode was set in 1969, but didn’t really fit with the series.  Glaister and his script editor John Brason then devised a six-episode sequel called , which showed how Nazi-hunters went after Secret Army's eponymous head of the Gestapo in Brussels, who had re-invented himself as a businessman called Manfred Dorf.

Another series inspired by Secret Army was the disappointing , which expanded an idea from the former series to show how special agents infiltrated occupied Europe in World War Two to try to destroy the Nazi V-weapons. Perhaps a spin-off too many, but this was a recurring theme in Glaister’s work.

Glaister was however working on another series, co-devising this time with Allan Prior, which would prove to be his last big hit – .  The story of a redundant aircraft designer who tries his hand at boat-building, this started as a family drama as the title character, Tom Howard’s marriage fell apart. 

The series involved a number of themes from the mundane conflict between traditional and modern styles of boat-building, to a lot of high-octane boardroom and bedroom action, which strayed much more into a kind of Dallas/Dynasty soap opera territory. Though highly popular it was slammed by critics, and got gradually more arch and camp as it went on. When star Maurice Colbourne died unexpectedly just before the final series, it was decided not to continue.

Gerard Glaister’s last series as co-creator (with Tony Lakin) and producer was . As with other series this arose from an idea touched on in a predecessor, in this case a horse-racing plotline in Howard’s Way. Though it ran for two seasons, Trainer was not well-received critically – like Howard’s Way it presented a glamorised version of the world it portrayed, in this case thoroughbred horse-training.

By the time Trainer ended in 1992, Glaister was in his mid-70s and decided to retire from the business, enjoying time with his family and hobbies until his death in 2005 at the age of 89. While not every series he was involved in was a success, his strike-rate was impressive, and among the series he supervised are some of the most impressive television dramas of the so-called ‘golden age of television’. 

Do you have fond memories of Gerard Glaister’s television productions?  What other classic dramas were unmissable appointments-to-view for you?  Let us know what you think…

Matthew Graham may not be a name that's immediately familiar to television viewers. But you're likely to have seen the screenwriter's work in the last few decades.

He has penned episodes of major shows including EastEnders, Doctor Who, Life on Mars and This Life among others. Here he shares some of the inner workings of his craft and stories of some of the actors and major names in television he's worked with over the years. Matthew currently has 110 mentions in the Genome database.

What was your first job in radio or television? My first job was writing an ITV children's show called Streetwise - must have been in 1990. I think I was hired because I was practically a kid myself. It was about cycle couriers in London and it starred an unknown young actor by the name of Andy Serkis. I wonder if he’s still in the business??...

What are your strongest memories from working on the following shows? 

EastEnders This was my writing school. I started at 23 and wrote about 35 episodes over five years. It taught me to work quickly and to interweave multiple storylines. It also taught me to understand production and how to write around production problems. For example I once had to tell story with Pat and Frank, where Mike Reid was only available on the Studio days and Pam St Clements was only available for exteriors. So I had them refusing to talk to each other and she would only shout at him through the window of the Queen Vic. It actually made the scenes more dynamic.

Doctor Who A joy. Both under Russell T Davis and Steven Moffat. You have to write with boundless energy and of course with those two leading the way you have to “run” very fast to have any hope of keeping up. Doctor Who is tough in the sense of the exposure and scrutiny that every line of every scene seems to come under from the fans. My first episode was which the older Whovians didn’t much care for. But I was tasked by Russell with writing an episode specifically for the younger ones - and they seemed to enjoy it. Under Steven I got to do a two-parter that was darker. I tried to tap into the vibe of the Patrick Troughton era. I don’t envy the show runners on Doctor Who. It’s wonderful gig but the worldwide attention would drive me nuts!

 We thought nobody would watch it. It was this big, indulgent white elephant - our attempt to get away with The Sweeney. It was only after we filmed Episode One that we realised how strong the chemistry was between Sam and Gene and so I beefed up Gene’s role. I remember after the first episode aired, I was in a cafe near my house and I overheard a couple talking. The guy was saying, “And you don’t know if he’s mad or in a coma dream or if he’s fallen back in time …” And I thought, “Hmmm, maybe we’ve got something here that people will get into …"

 It was a small, low budget Ö÷²¥´óÐã2 show with no real plots as such. Having come straight off EastEnders I wasn’t familiar with drama that didn’t end in a birth, marriage, affair, termination or death! It was initially terrifyingly vague and then very, very liberating. I felt I could just have the characters drinking wine on the sofa and talking about sex and careers and money (or lack of it) - in other words all the things me and my mates were talking about. My boss was Tony Garnett - an amazing producer of course and a man who once he trusted you, just let you write what you wanted. His only note was “keep it real”.

What is your experience of ‘giving birth’ to characters and shaping their existences? I usually have to picture an actor in the role to start with. With Life on Mars I pictured John Simm as Sam even though I knew we probably wouldn’t get him! Sometimes though I picture a person I know - a friend, colleague or relative that I think embodies the character. But everything changes at casting when a talented actor reinterprets the role. Often then you start recalibrating for that actor's strengths.

What is it like having such a pivotal role but working out of sight? Mostly I like being out of sight! More and more these days a show creator or show runner is visible. We give more interviews and the public link us more emphatically with the drama. In other words we soak up the praise and get the blame. It teaches you to be robust and I think it can make your writing more strident and more assured.

Which character and storyline of your creations are your favourites? I have to say that Sam and Gene are my favourite creations. The whole arc of Life on Mars and I just loved and am very proud of. But I also wrote an episode of EastEnders many years ago when Sonia gave birth to a baby she didn’t know she was carrying. I tried to make it scary, funny and life-affirming and I think in the most part I pulled it off.

Tell us a killer line of dialogue you’ve come up with that you’re most proud of Gene, Life on Mars: (to small children in the street) Anything happens to this motor and I come round your houses and stamp on all your toys. Got it?

Who are the stars and actors have made the biggest impact on you over the years? I always loved writing for Bill Treacher from EastEnders. Arthur Fowler was such a tragic figure and Bill could make the lines vibrate with sadness or with gentle warmth. Of course it was always so much fun to see what Phil Glenister was going to do with the Gene Genie. I really loved writing for David Tennant - he’s an actor who actually inspires you to write in a different way because of the vibrancy and élan he brings to his performance.

Are there any other people working behind the scenes who have made an impression on your career? Tony Jordan was a big inspiration to me in my formative years. Tony was so effortlessly creative and he demystified screenwriting by being so blasé and down to earth about it. He showed me that writing wasn’t the exclusive domain of a certain middle-class quasi-intellectual. 

Jane Featherstone (who ran Kudos) was my executive producer on Mars. Jane is so clever at managing talent and driving through an idea. She believes in writers and fights for a vision. Courageous, creative and bloody good fun to be with. Russell T Davies - his boundless love for TV drama is inspirational. He knows his own creative mind so well and I’ve tried to emulate his confidence and self-belief and (like him) still try to not fall into the trap of arrogance and pig-headedness.

Do you remember the first time your name appeared in the Radio Times? Yes. Episode 779 of EastEnders. By Matthew Graham.

Have you ever searched for yourself in the Genome database? No, but I’m going to now you’ve put the idea in my head!

How important do you think it is to preserve the history of TV and radio listings? It’s the main artery of our popular cultural heritage. It reminds us where we were and who we were as a nation. It’s essentially important.

When I was a boy in the 1980s, I had this secret life.

I would be whisked off to distant worlds in time and space, watch a neighbour dig up his backyard for a self-sustained existence, visit my friends in an old-fashioned stuffy department store -  and I even had my first look at a topless woman working behind the cash register at the local grocer!

The funny thing was that I never left my house. I was watching television but it wasn’t the television that everyone else seemed to watch; this was fresh and inventive; sometimes dangerous and often invigorating. It opened my eyes to thinking differently about everything. This is where I started my lifelong obsession with British television.

For me, as an American, my love for UK TV started in 1984 with the known as PBS.  Not all British television broadcast in the US was shown on PBS but I think a lot of us were introduced to it this way.

Although I had seen other UK programmes before, the series that sparked my interest in UK TV was Doctor Who. I love the series, I still love it, but in my journey into British television, Doctor Who was a gateway drug.

I was asked to write about why I love British television and where it fits in from an American perspective. It’s a hard task.  After all, how do you put a lifelong passion into a single blog post?

Starting with the shows on PBS, most of our UK imports would be shows that us “Yanks” could find tangible. Physical humour or slapstick could feature heavily in programmes such as  A series like that can play just about anywhere in the world and go over well.  

But we would also get sitcoms that weren’t always based in physical comedy and perhaps more smartly written such as Yes, Minister or any of the  series. Probably the biggest impact on US audiences would be Monty Python’s Flying Circus. Humour may never have been played on so many different levels at one time as with Python.

In dramas we would get some of the best the UK could offer such as I Claudius, Upstairs Downstairs, Elizabeth R, Henry VIII and  But as wonderful as all these programmes are, they create a problem with the perception of British television in the US.

It may be different now, but when I was young the view of UK TV in the US was pretty stereotypical. Generally, people thought UK TV shows were either costume dramas or outrageous British comedies.

As I started to dig deeper in my journey of exploring British television, I soon realised that the US was missing out on great shows, perhaps because they were too engraved in British culture and seen as inaccessible to the US viewing public.

I think a great example of this is Till Death Us Do Part. A reason it may be hard for the US populace to embrace this series is because it takes place right in the middle of the Swinging Sixties in London where a revolution was taking place.

The generation gap was widening and in the middle of it, on TV at least, was Alf Garnett. There was a cultural phenomenon going on in the UK and it was special to them. I think the same can be said of Dad’s Army. Although it aired over in the US on PBS, nobody can really appreciate how real the terror of the Nazis threatening to invade and the line of defence was the Ö÷²¥´óÐã Guard - this series is intimately British. I love this comedy, I understood the horror about this period in history but I didn’t live through it nor experience it as part of our history. I was still the cultural outsider.

I am not saying the people in the US can’t understand these concepts, but often these shows were never exported to the US even though they were often remade over here, including All in the Family or the (thankfully) forgotten Dad’s Army pilot The Rear Guard.

It became an intense passion of mine to collect and watch as much British television I could no matter where I found it. In the 1990s I found myself buying special PAL equipment (TV & VCR) to watch the Ö÷²¥´óÐã VHS releases from the UK, shipping them over to the US which at that time was not cheap. Now, of course, so many of these programmes have been released on DVD. How has this impacted me?

I was able to see series that were inaccessible to us Americans. Such wonderful programmes as the Quatermass serials,  Adam Adamant Lives!, Dixon of Dock Green, Softly Softly: Taskforce, and  These programmes and so many more are now available to everyone. In a couple of weeks’ time the complete DVD set to Doomwatch will be in my hands.

But my love goes beyond watching the shows. The reason I love Ö÷²¥´óÐã Genome is my admiration for the Radio Times. To me, the listings are as important as the program itself. That’s something that 99% of Americans and most US fans of British TV will never understand. The Radio Times have moved me so much that I have a big chunk of 1960s editions and most of the 1970s. But it’s so much easier to look up the listings on the Genome site!

So what is it I love about British television? I think the answer is simply…… everything! I love everything about it from the way it was made in the 1970s (videotape interiors and film exteriors) to the iconic and sadly missed Television Centre.

What I love the most about it is, though, the people I met over the years in the US who share my passion, the people in the UK who I have corresponded with, the people who work in the Ö÷²¥´óÐã and the characters in their programmes. These people are all friends and I couldn’t imagine my life without them.

So, cheers to Alf Garnett, Captain Mainwaring, Professor Quatermass, and Gertrude Noah!

Greg Bakun lives in Minnesota and runs  a blog about British television.

Are you reading this post from the United States? What is your take on British TV? Like Greg, are you a massive fan? Let us know in the space below.