Because I want to start with a clean sheet - and nothing's much cleaner than an empty page - I've got a confession to make: I actually wrote this first post 17 days ago. Not perhaps a major issue, but I think I should mention it. In fact I thought about not using it, but as it describes the event that galvanised me enough to start this blog - and hopefully, keep it updated reasonably often - here it is. I've changed just one or two words ....
4 January 2011 : I've finally become a militant!
I'm more surprised than anyone that it's happened now. I'm as happy as the next person to rant to and with my friends about any of the appalling (political?) nonsenses that have been perpetrated in the last few years, such as a possible reason for the ridiculous state we found ourselves in during the snow last month; education and universities in general; the inability of a huge percentage of the population to put their litter in a bin; ditto people who don't pick up after their dogs; digital radio reception etc etc etc. I'm constantly saying 'I'm going to write to .....', but then never do.
No, the thing that finally got me off my bum was because of a radio soap! Well, not so much a soap as a way of life ....... and perhaps that's it. The Archers was my own personal radio serial, shared with nearly 5 million other people.
Ms Whitburn, the Editor, monopolised a huge amount of air time and media space, prior to Sunday 2nd Jan 2011, boasting that the 60th anniversary episode would be a 'Celebration' and about the mystery story line that would Shake the Archers to the Core, change things for the next ten years, match it's dramatic start with Grace's death in that fire, John's death and Ruth's will-she-won't-she affair, go down in history, blah, blah, blah and when it finally came, what did we get?? A badly written (how long did it take them? 5 minutes? 10?) out of character, nonsensical scene on the roof of the ancestral home between the slightly dippy, but charming, cheerful and very dear Nigel and sensible NFU-trained David, fiddling about with a banner that could have stayed where it was until daylight, the wind dropped and the ice melted. For reasons beyond me and to make the Celebration complete, someone had to die and Ms Whitburn chose Nigel.
Not too life-changing you might think? Actually it was and is, hence the new-found militancy. Yes, it's fiction, but the whole point of the thing IS - or to be accurate, WAS - my personal involvement - without that and every other fan there IS no Archers. The extent of my militancy might not go beyond writing on the Archers' blog and ranting here, yet, but it's a start.....
Nigel, the most popular character in the programme? Who knew? I certainly didn't, until now. I know I'd always liked him and appreciated his ability both to come up with some new plan and to dilute the bile his wife Lizzie is prone to spew, but I never had to consider whether he should live or die. He was so likeable it would have seemed ridiculous, pointless. It's TV soap villains who fall off roofs or get shot, not Nigels. Now I have had to think about it I realise that he was the only ancestral toff in the village (which could have made him a target for chippy writers), he had a happy marriage and children, he played a blinder in the panto, he was a mate for Kenton to play with, he'd matured into a good natured and articulate bloke and whilst not central to every plot it was always a relief and interesting when his turn came. What I realise now is that we won't hear him as a lovely old buffer, the only credible foil to Eddy or anyone else with character. His absence will be like a large hole blasted through the fabric of the programme, the edges of which will inevitably begin to split and fray under the strain of melodrama and doom, until the whole thing disintegrates into nothing more than a dusty heap of fibres.
I and millions like (and unlike - that's the beauty of it) me had tuned in every week for blahblah years, the majority probably most weekdays and again for the onmibus on Sunday mornings. We liked it for all sorts of reasons that to a non-afficionado sound as ridiculous as those put forward by people addicted to one of the TV soaps, but the difference between us and them - the TV soapers - is that they presumably like the dramas, the shouting and regular disasters used to mark uplifting occasions, such as Christmas and the New Year. We, on the other hand, would rather not get involved in any of that and many of us choose not to watch them for that very reasons. We liked the fact that ordinary but real things happened. Of course the Archers has it's dramas, deaths and disasters but the underlying thread was always a combination of gentleness and humour and it was nearly always in keeping with intricate plot lines unfolding over time. Annoying characters come and go, but baddies get their comeuppance in the end and life flows on. That doesn't make it lightweight, unimportant or in any way inferior to it's visual cousins. Solid can be good - particularly in dark times and with good writing, it's been superb in the past.
Such a cruel end and yes, shocking as Ms Whitburn wanted, but not for the reasons she kept spouting. Cruel to both character and player and shocking in it's stupidity. Where do we go from here? (please let me know from time to time, because I won't be listening): Years of (i) Lizzie hates David (ii) Lizzie's children grow to hate David (iii) David hates David (iv) Shula and Jill flounder around in the middle (iv) Ruth says 'Oooooh NOooooo!' even more than usual (v) Future of Lower Loxley is in doubt (vi) broken-hearted Lizzie sells to Hedge Funder who uses it at weekends for a hobby farm and / or Matt Crawford who builds weekender houses on half the estate and lets Centre Parcs use the rest (vii) Other cast members tiptoe around, not laughing or joking because he was too nice to die .... with the exception of, possibly, Susan who might mutter about irresponsible behaviour 'never would have thought it of someone like David'... (viii) Lizzie hates David some more (ix) David loses Brookfield and so on and so on round and round. People (both characters and listeners) will move away. Depression is a killer and the death of a good person is a permanent hurt - it can never be made better. I'm guessing that Ambridge will end up a soulless commuter village - no shop, no pub, no church, no stables no........ Is that Ms Whitburn's plan?
Just think what opportunities to celebrate have been missed. How many story lines could have come from the Grundy's winning the lottery, both drammatic and funny? And there have been many, many other suggestions in the last few days, better by far and more imaginative than the poop Ms Whitburn and the writers came up with, but I think I came up with the winner (and I haven't been the only person to say this, which proves it's a good idea): Yes, TA is fiction, so, in that knowledge, the last couple of weeks should simply be wiped from the record. We can take it. We don't need any dream sequences or magical appearances of twin brothers. BBC management could just announce that, having read all the blogs, messageboards and newsgroups they've decided to listen and as a result are VERY SORRY, JUST THIS ONCE, WE'VE GOT IT WRONG, then roll TA back to Friday 31st December. I can guarantee that both the unheard of apology and the fact itself will be remembered for as long or longer than any other major happening. Oh, yes, and they could also announce Ms Whitburn's resignation as the icing on the cake..........
