Falcon Crest

Fabulous Jane Wyman donned a grey wig for the Vintage Years - the pilot of Falcon Crest - in 1981, but got rid of it for the series.

It always sounds really snobbish when you name something you like that is mass popular, and the person you are speaking to says: 'Oh, really? I prefer...' - and names something obscure.

But I'm afraid that's genuinely how I am about the big 1980s-era American soaps. Dallas? Nope. Dynasty? Nope. Knots Landing? Nope.

I'm a dedicated Falcon Crest man.

Now, in England, Falcon Crest, or 'Falky' as I fondly nicknamed it, was often broadcast on ITV regional stations in grotty afternoon slots, or at Sunday teatime - sometime naff. But, as a shift worker, I managed to sink a basinful of it and loved it.

I suppose it all began with an idea for a series pilot possibly set in America and France, or a series pilot called The Barclays, about an American urban family moving from New York to small town Kentucky or...

Series creator Earl Hamner jr, who had given us that loving 1930s family The Waltons (Spencer's Mountain with plenty of tears but without the grit), was just finishing work on that series when the idea for a try-out pilot came his way, and it took a lot of thinking out.

Filming of a drama called The Vintage Years took place in the spring of 1981. This was the pilot for what would become Falcon Crest and featured some of the ingredients - including the location, the Spring Mountain Winery in California's Napa Valley, which would be the location for Falcon Crest.

It also featured Jane Wyman as Angela Channing, the leading Mrs Nasty of Falcon Crest, in a grey wig - which Miss Wyman hated!

It was a tale of vineyards and a family divided, very much as the series would be, but it wasn't the finished product by any means.

As it was never screened, I never saw it - but I believe it's now available online.

Changes were made to cast and characters - and Jane Wyman pushed for changes to Angela.

'She's very much a 1981 kind of lady,' she said just before Falky's American debut in December 1981.

My goodness, she was. English TV critic Hilary Kingsley described her in 1988 as 'rotten to the pips', but there was more to Angela than that. Her main problem, as her daughter Emma pointed out, was that she loved the land more than she loved her family. And was prepared to use any trick in the book to keep it.

Angela's role as Queen Bee of the fictional Tuscany Valley took a severe knock when her nephew, Chase Gioberti, arrived in the early 1980s to claim his inheritance. Don't worry. She was up to the fight.

Had Miss Wyman been cast because of her ex-husband, Ronald Reagan's, recent elevation (in November 1980) to US President?  Jane Wyman said she had not. Rumours were later circulated that she had been offered a role in the future Earl Hamner production before the pilot was even in the pre-production planning stages (highly unlikely) and that she had banned mention of Ronald Reagan on the Falcon Crest set!

It all added to the interest - and Jane Wyman was quite capable of holding the viewer's interest long after the fascination of seeing Ronnie's ex-wife had faded.

What really attracted me to the show was its delicious sense of humour.

Hapless greedy and lustful Melissa Agretti telling her 'loving' husband Lance Cumson: 'Your whole family's weird. Your mother murdered my father...' for instance.

The characters actually stood back at times and saw the absurdity of the soapy plots.

It could be very droll - as Melissa said to Angela:

'Don't worry, Angela, I'll still be available for family occasions - weddings, funerals, and, of course, the occasional shooting.'

Ana Alicia was fabulous as 'that fiesty Melissa Agretti' - as Angela once called her.

It had all the prime time soap ingredients, of course, but I also thought it had more atmosphere and depth.

Angela's daughters, Emma and Julia, for instance - driven mad over a period of many years by their oppressive mother - and this madness manifesting itself in quite different ways. 

One of the scenes which cemented the series in my affections was at the end of season one, in 1982. Angela, having been worsted in battle by her nephew Chase, smiled and said: 'He thinks he's won!' The smile was radiant - full of enjoyment at the thought of proving him wrong, and quite bereft of any malice. No JR crocodile grin there. Angela was simply delighted at the thought of future ferocities. And I was entranced.

Falky was enthralling - plane crashes, vicious business cartels, long lost relatives, earthquakes, shootings, fires, Nazis... it had the lot - and more!

Great cast, too. There were rumours of backstage hostilities. When veteran film actress Lana Turner appeared in one season, Jane Wyman reportedly refused to act with her - and some scenes had to be recorded separately. Finally, Miss Wyman was reported to have said that either she remained in the series, or Miss Turner - not both.

Lana Turner's character was killed off in a shooting at the Falcon Crest mansion.

As for the behind the scenes revelations - rumour or truth? The speculation all added to the fun of watching the series - and it was an immensely enjoyable series, made with great skill and gusto.

In 1981, the cast of Falcon Crest appeared to be quite dowdy, but, as the 1980s took wing, power dressing and glitz became the norm. Here's some of the regulars, circa 1987. The man in the middle is Lorenzo Lamas, Angela's grandson, Lance Cumson. He never quite outwitted his 'loving' granny.

I will never forget Jane Wyman as Angela, Margaret Ladd as her delightfully dotty daughter Emma, Abby Dalton as her other daughter - the driven-over-the-edge Julia Cumson, Chao Li Chi as Cha Li - the wise butler at the Falcon Crest mansion, David Selby as Richard Channing - the milk-drinking business mogul, Susan Sullivan as lovely Maggie Gioberti - persecuted in-law of Angela, Robert Foxworth as Chase Gioberti, Maggie's husband and Angela's goodly nephew, and Lorenzo Lamas and Ana Alicia as Lance and Melissa Cumson - wow, that couple had sparks!

Required viewing at the time - and on DVD now. It lifts any free afternoon way out of the mundane.

Bullseye

In 1981 Bullseye arrived, and in this post you'll find a couple of pics of Jim Bowen and Bully - super, smashing, great!

The pics are actually slightly later than 1981 - as the Central TV logo on them proves - 1981 was the final year of ATV, and Bullseye began as an ATV show.

This review from the Daily Mirror, 3 October, 1981, is not exactly filled with praise for the show...

Contestants on "Bullseye", the downbeat darts quiz from ATV, seem to have been picked out for punishment - and I don't mean having to meet Jim Bowen, the gloomy-faced host.

Of the three couples who played on Monday, two went home empty handed. One of them - the chap was unemployed - had to give back the meagre cash sum Jim had dispensed.

Worse still, at the end of the show they had to go to the back of the stage to study the star prize, a car, they had just failed to win.

The reviewer did not share the taste of the viewing public on this occasion - because we adored Bullseye and it soon became one of our top quiz shows.

Odd to think that Bullseye was once broadcast on a Monday - it was in the Sunday teatime slot that the show became a legend, complete with Jim's daft sayings, Bully's Special Prize and the infamous "Look at what you could've won!" bits.

A lot of people I know loved Bullseye. Must say, I was absolutely hooked myself - from the atmospheric opening music with that gorgeous pub piano to "Look at what you could've won!" - it was required viewing for me for many years!

These bendy Bullys are now quite collectable.

Presenter Jim Bowen, back for series two...

Sunday Mirror, 10 October 1982 - Bullseye is back for another series - and has now moved to its familiar Sunday teatime slot!

Series creator Andrew Wood had spent months studying game shows from around the world before the Bullseye format was born in 1980. He wrote:

I was convinced that the written format was at the heart of the show and it would be the base on which the show would be built. The format had to be strong, one which could stand the test of time, whilst being both practical and affordable and it would place the contestants at the heart of the show and the host would be the conductor, leading the way. And thus in 1980 the Bullseye format was born, going on to achieve not just unparalleled success, but it would become one of the most treasured and loved shows on British television.

Recently saw some vintage Bully on Satellite telly. You still can't beat it.

"Language, Timothy!" "Sorry, Father!" - The Adventures Of Timothy Lumsden

Sorry! - the novel. Ronnie Corbett as hapless librarian Timothy Lumsden is the cover star. Timothy desperately wanted to leave home, and sought "full board without scotch eggs".

Towards the end of 1980, Ronnie Corbett, the little one of Two Ronnies fame, was recording the pilot of what he later described as an "everyday sitcom" at the BBC. Although the Two Ronnies was still up and running, Ronnies Barker and Corbett had an agreement with the BBC that individual projects would be provided for them as comedic actors in their own right.

 The "everyday sitcom" pilot in production in late 1980 would never see the light of day. It wasn't deemed good enough.

It was whilst recording this destined-for-the-dumper pilot, that Ronnie Corbett was introduced to a brand new character, written especially for him, by writers Ian Davidson and Peter Vincent.

Enter, Timothy Lumsden! Timothy Christopher Robin Lumsden, to be precise.

Ronnie was happy. The BBC was happy. The pilot of the other show disappeared, never to be seen on-screen. And Sorry! went straight into production - for a full seven episode series, no pilot needed!

Interior scenes were filmed at the BBC in London, and the exterior for the small town setting for Timothy's exploits was provided by Wallingford in Oxfordshire.

In March 1981, the series went on-air. 

 Timothy Lumsden was a very English little man, who would instinctively apologise if somebody bumped into him, trod on his toe, etc. And Ronnie Corbett, himself born in Scotland, made this character live and breathe.

It was a brilliant performance.

Of course, Ronnie Corbett was already famous, but Timothy looked a bit different early on. Slightly more hair. Slightly curlier. Ronnie later commented: "I wore a false piece on top of my hair to make me look a bit curlier, but I don't know why I bothered with that." For me, it was useful because I was already a Ronnie Corbett fan, and loved watching him (particularly his "sit down" act on The Two Ronnies!), but the hair served to set Timothy Lumsden slightly apart, and I found it useful in establishing the character as a separate entity from the Two Ronnies performer.

 What initially warmed me to this series was its excellently drawn characters and the writers' obvious knowledge of what makes people tick - the relationships between the Lumsden family members were brilliantly observed. 

 Detail from the opening titles of Sorry!

Librarian Timothy was not always good with words - he got tongue tied, rambling and flustered at the drop of a hat when in the presence of any woman he liked (his mother had kept him off school the day his class did page 44 in biology), but he was a witty and kind man nonetheless. He was also an Ovalteeny and something of an unlikely hero - saving his godson from a bully, reuniting a runaway daughter with her father, saving a circus troupe from the bailiffs, putting aside the fact that he was going on a date with the woman of his dreams in order to save an elderly neighbour's house from being burgled...

Timothy's big problem was his mother - Mrs Phyllis Lumsden. At the start of the series he was forty-one. But Mummykins still treated him as though he was about five. She cooed at him. She lambasted him, she was always telling him to "stop showing off!", and wasn't averse to clouting him on occasion. She kept asking him if he was constipated. She wanted to make sure he had clean "handy-pandies" before he ate his dinner. She sent him to bed if he misbehaved. She cut his porridge into soldiers for him.

"WHAT?!" you explode. Or perhaps yawn. I dunno what kind of mood you're in today, so I really can't say.

Well, yes, I reply,  I know that cutting bread or toast into soldiers is far more common. But then Mrs Lumsden's porridge was decidedly uncommon. Thank goodness. Which leads us neatly onto the subject of her cooking skills. Or rather lack of them. Mrs L was still living in the war and post-war years of rationing - she still had two boxes of powdered egg in the larder. "Waste not, want not!" was her motto, and leftovers were a speciality. Left over Twiglets and scotch eggs for breakfast? Why not? And what about last Tuesday's spotted dick?

Timothy couldn't break the ties of his mother's apron strings. Even when he seemed close to it, he sometimes scuppered his own efforts because the suffocating bonds were just too tight.

Mrs Lumsden clung on to the past (note the ancient cut-price tin of Zam-Buk in the bathroom) and tried to make sure her son Timothy never grew up. She was so out-of-touch that, when Timothy presented her with an elaborate wrought iron shoe scraper as a present, she tentatively asked: "Is it a video game?"

It seemed appropriate that one of Mrs Lumsden's relatives had invented flypaper. 

 Actress Barbara Lott found fame as monstrous mummy Mrs Lumsden in Sorry!

Mrs Lumsden's daughter, Muriel (Marguerite Hardiman), had broken free and married and Mrs L had never really forgiven her. And Muriel's husband, Kevin (Derek Fuke), well... his eyes were far too close together...

And we all know what that means (incidentally, did you know that eyebrows which meet in the middle are a sign of a "gold digger", and that small ear lobes are a sign of "not a very nice person"? Timothy did).

Whilst we're off on a tangent, was Mrs Nugent Is Coming To Tea a record by Soft Cell?

Muriel committed terrible crimes in her mother's kitchen - like throwing away the J-cloth (Mrs Lumsden believed this should be a yearly event) and descaling the kettle (Mrs L was convinced the tea would taste dreadful because of that). Muriel even threw away the wall calendar in 1981 - "It's not November 1980 anymore!" The photograph of helpless little puppy dogs  had caused Mrs Lumsden not to move beyond that month and year.  She loved helpless little puppy dogs, did Mrs L.

Muriel fell out with her mother regularly, but knew her well, in fact, had similar steel in her own personality. But she was very much in opposition and determined to get her brother out into the world if she possibly could. Far easier said than done!

Timothy's father, Sidney (William Moore), had long retired from the Water Board and even longer accepted his wife's rule. At first glance, he simply seemed to echo her authoritarian stance on occasion - "Language, Timothy!" he'd say, usually when Timothy had said something completely innocent, or, "Bolshie, Timothy!" when the little one was trying to assert himself. 

Mrs Lumsden berated her husband and sent him out to his shed or the garden (smoking was only allowed beyond the compost heap) and generally ruled him with a rod of iron. But we quickly learned that there was a warmer, kinder side to Mr L, and he was often an ally and confidante for Timothy.

Tim frequented the local pub, and often met his old pal, Frank Baker (Roy Holder), there. Frank was another ally, urging Tim to break away from his mother. Unlike Tim, Frank was just your average guy, unhampered by a monstrous mater. He married, started a family, and generally lived life as millions upon millions of men live it. Sometimes he grew frustrated with Tim, but he showed such patience and restraint it was obvious that he really cared.

Apart from that dreadful time in 1982 when he hit Tim with a shepherd's pie.

Frank provided a useful bit of grounding to the show, along with the local pub scenario, including Jean (Jennifer Franks) the barmaid, as Sorry! sometimes leapt away into the surreal. Did Timothy have a guardian angel (see the episode It's A Wonderful Life, Basically), for instance? Or was he simply going a bit strange and imagining things after all those lonely years of oppression?

Timothy had a few more near misses when it came to matrimony, but the closer he got to finding true love, the more desperate his mother became to thwart him. She wasn't above enlisting the aid of her friend Dulcie Barrable (Mavis Pugh) in her attempts to spoil her son's escape plans, and once even faked her own death. Some of the later episodes had a faintly sinister tinge, and the surreal aspects of the plot increased. But would good win through in the end? 

In 1988, now aged forty-eight,Timothy bought his house and met the woman of his dreams. "Snow White's Cottage", that's what his friends dubbed his quaint new home.Of course, Timothy declared he was a yuppie - moving into the property owners' class. And also an Oink (remember all those acronyms so beloved of the 1980s? Dinky, of course, stood for "dual income, no kids yet", but "Oink" was definitely Timothy - "one income, no kids"!).

But then Mother called at Snow White's cottage with a basket of apples...

And the thudding noises coming from upstairs that Frank Baker heard when calling on Mrs Lumsden at her house later, in search of a suddenly missing Timothy, were not, as Mrs L said, Muriel doing her aerobics with Jane Fonda...

I won't spoil the ending, but Sorry! was a brilliant sitcom, and a few visits to the 1980s Lumsden family are a must if imaginative, high quality TV comedy is something you enjoy. 

But remember - no elbows on the table and make sure your handie-pandies are absolutely spotless before venturing in!

A Test For Andrew....

Catherine has written and hopes to stump me... 

On the subject of 1980s screen entertainments, if I was to name a few characters from a particular TV show, could you come up with the show's title without Googling or similar? Try these - they all appeared in a television show of the '80s: Timothy, Frank, Muriel, Kevin, Dulcie Barrable. Remember, no checking elsewhere. I'll have to trust you! 

You can, Catherine, you can! It's Sorry! the BBC sitcom that ran from 1981-1988 and starred the brilliant Ronnie Corbett as put-upon mother's boy Timothy Lumsden, Barbara Lott as the rather scary Mrs Lumsden, and William Moore as bumbling dad Mr Lumsden ("Language, Timothy!"). The Frank you mention was Frank Baker, Timothy's best friend, Muriel was Timothy's sister, Kevin his brother-in-law, and Dulcie Barrable was a friend of Mrs Lumsden. Mrs B had a cat called Floosie. 

I well remember Mrs Lumsden cutting Timothy's porridge into soldiers for him...

And that dreadful time Tim jumped in the river in the dead of night so that he could phone his mother!

Wonderful series. I must give it the '80s Actual treatment - been meaning to for ages! Thanks for writing.

Sorry, I'm A Stranger Here Myself

So excited to read that Sorry, I'm A Stranger Here Myself, the Thames TV comedy written by David Firth and Peter Tilbury (now mainly remembered for Shelley and It Takes A Worried Man), which ran for two series in 1981 and 1982, is coming to DVD in March this year. It's the tale of poor, henpecked Henry, who is left his uncle's house in the fictitious English Midland's town of Stackley, and escapes his ghastly wife to return to the scene of his formative years. Unfortunately, the Stackley of 1981/1982 is not the Stackley Henry so fondly recalls, hence the title - Sorry, I'm A Stranger Here Myself.

Punk rocker Alex is squatting in Henry's house, Asian Mumtaz is running the corner shop, and there is a militant union shop steward living next door!

This is a very witty portrayal of the 1980s as they were before the yuppies, before the brick-sized mobile phones, before the explosion of creative energy brought to television by Channel 4, before the credit boom, before the huge shoulder pads. A 1980s where the Rubik's Cube and CB radio are huge crazes, New Romantics are the current pop sensation, Charles is marrying Di, and inner city riots are erupting.

The stars were Robin Bailey, Christopher Fulford, David Hargreaves, Diana Rayworth and Nadim Sawalha.

I ate this series with a big spoon. Can't wait to see the DVD and write a full review!

PG Tips, 1981: "My Name Is Bond. Brooke Bond"

One of the funniest new TV advertisements of 1981 was a James Bond spoof - the latest in the PG Tips chimp saga. Michael Jayston was the suavest monkey yet - providing the voice for that death-defying dare devil Brooke Bond. The full page spread shown above was featured in Woman's Weekly in March 1981.

Dr Who In The 1980s: Unsettled Times For A Time Lord

In 1980, Tom Baker relinquished his role as Dr Who, although his final episode did not appear on screen until March 1981.

Interviewed in the Daily Mirror on November 5th, 1980, Tom said: 

"Finishing with Dr Who is a great emotional jolt after playing it so long, but we need these emotional jolts in our lives, they are good for us.

"The Doctor has made me quite well off and believe me there was no row with the BBC. It was strictly my decision. I have had offers from America and hopefully my next project after finishing the present 'Dr Who' series will be a 'Sherlock Holmes' film.

'The Hound of the Baskervilles', with me playing Sherlock. I like that kind of role.

"There is so much nastiness in the world, so much violence and horror I want to keep away from it, bury myself in make-believe. I don't want the horrible realities. That's why I liked 'Dr Who'. It was all fun, fun, fun."

The last Tom Baker era episode of "Dr Who" appeared on our screens on 21/3/1981.
 

WHOZAT! PETER PLAYS A SPACESHOT

From the Sun, 16/4/1981

Hats off to actor Peter Davison. He's out to prove what a big hit he will be as the new 'Dr Who'.

Peter produced a whopping new space shot yesterday as he warmed up for his new role.

He will be wearing the cricket gear when the intrepid Doctor starts a new series next January. 
 
And Peter, who first shot to fame in "All Creatures Great And Small", wants to be able to bat his way out of bother.

Chances are he won't be caught out too often. Peter, who is the youngest ever Dr Who, is a keen cricketer already.

From the Daily Mirror, 11/1/1984: 

The new Doctor Who stepped out of his Tardis yesterday looking like a walking jumble sale.

He was wearing an outfit described by the TV show's producer John Nathan-Turner as "totally tasteless."

The Doctor, alias actor Colin Baker, sported a coat of many colours and fabrics, yellow-and-black striped trousers, a floppy green polka-dot bow tie and green shoes with red spats.

Colin, who takes over as Dr Who No 6 from Peter Davison in March, said in London:
 
 "The Doctor is not a human, so he doesn't follow human trends. Hence the costume.

"Actually, I think it's smashing."

The 1980s were unsettled times for Dr Who, and the original series finally ended in 1989 with Silvester McCoy at the helm as the decade's third new Doctor.

More '80s Actual Dr Who material coming soon.

Only Fools And Horses

An historic TV listing page from the Sun, 8 September, 1981... The very first episode of Only Fools And Horses is about to be broadcast. Unfortunately, I was hooked on The Flame Trees of Thika, and missed it!

From the Sun:

David Jason blunders into a world of birds, bets and shady deals as the star of a new comedy series tonight.

The funny little man from A Sharp Intake Of Breath plays fast-talking fly-boy Del Boy Trotter in Only Fools And Horses (BBC1, 8.30)

But his deals never seem to come off.

The title of the seven-part comedy series sums up Trotter's philosophy - work is only for fools and horses.

Trotter, a South Londoner, has a younger brother and aged grandfather to support.

He holds a deeply felt conviction that someone somewhere is making an easy fortune and that sooner or later he will do the same.

Jason says: "Trotter feels that because he doesn't take anything out of the State he doesn't see why he should put anything back.

"He doesn't believe in paying any tax he can avoid."

Jason, a bachelor, has a country cottage in the Home Counties, where he writes radio shows.

In tonight's programme, Trotter buys a cargo of executive brief cases - only to find he cannot sell them because they are hot property.

 In 1980, BBC scriptwriter John Sullivan, having completed work on his previous TV series, Citizen Smith, was looking for a new project. Would a comedy set in the world of football set the 1980s alight? The BBC thought not, and they didn't like Sullivan's follow-up idea for a comedy centred on a street trader in London, either. But Sullivan persisted, and, with a little help from producer and director Ray Butt, won the day. The BBC commissioned a first series.

The working title for the new show was Readies, but the show's actual title turned out to be Only Fools And Horses. "Why do only fools and horses work?" was the question posed by the famous theme song (which took a little time to arrive), and Del Boy Trotter wanted to get rich quick. The title was highly appropriate.  

John Sullivan was born in Balham, South London, in 1946, of Irish and English parentage. He grew up in a poor community, full of characters and comedy, as he later recounted. At school, he met the works of Charles Dickens and was never the same again.

As a young man in the early 1960s, John Sullivan had several jobs, including one in the used car trade. Interviewed years later, he said that during that time he met "a lot of villains, quite a rich seam to tap into later when I started writing. " In other interviews, he spoke of his need to break away from his poor background and make some money.

In 1962, Sullivan was hugely impressed by a BBC Comedy Playhouse production, featuring the characters of old man Steptoe and his frustrated son, Harold - desperate to break away from his grotty old dad and the scrapyard they ran. Sullivan was impressed by the drama and comedy in the show, and this would later influence his own work.

In the late 1960s, he started sending scripts to the BBC - but each one came back rejected. By the early 1970s, Sullivan was working as a plumber and still nursing ambitions to be a TV writer. He married Sharon Usher in 1974 and took an unusual route into the BBC for an aspiring scriptwriter - working in props, set dressing and scene shifting.  

At the Beeb, Sullivan met Ronnie Barker, who got him to write some sketches for the Two Ronnies, and the legendary comedy producer Dennis Main Wilson, who championed Sullivan's cause. The result was Citizen Smith making its TV debut as a series in November 1977. Wolfie Smith, lead character of the series and head of the Tooting Popular Front, was inspired by a man Sullivan had seen in a pub in 1968. Citizen Smith ran until December 1980. 

And so, we're back to the beginning of this article, with Sullivan finishing work on Citizen Smith in 1980 and looking for another series idea...

Sullivan drew extensively on his own background and life experiences for Only Fools... - Del's love of fancy foreign phrases, for instance, came from a man Sullivan had known when he was working in the used car trade when he was about seventeen years old, back in the early 1960s. Another inspiration for Del was the "fly pitchers" Sullivan had observed at various London street markets throughout his life.

Sullivan said that he wanted to reflect modern working class London - most series set in London seemed to take a rather nostalgic view of life in his opinion. The first series of ITV's Minder, which had a modern London setting, had not troubled the ratings but the 1980 series, tweaked and with more comedy added, saw Arthur and Terry beginning to take a grip on the viewing public's affections. Sullivan worried that his territory had now been covered, but later wondered if the success of the tweaked Minder may have influenced the BBC in saying yes to his idea for Only Fools And Horses.

How it all began... Del Boy ("Lovely jubbly!"), Rodney (bit of a plonker!) and Grandad of Trotters Independent Trading Co - New York - Paris - Peckham.

Filming of series one began in May 1981. The first episode was transmitted on BBC1 at 8.30 pm on 8 September that year. It didn't do great trade with the viewers, but within three years Only Fools... was one of the most popular shows on the telly.

Del Boy Trotter (David Jason) and his younger brother, Rodney (Nicholas Lyndhurst), lived in a flat at Nelson Mandela House, Peckham, with their grandad (Lennard Pearce).

Del was a highly lovable character - his "get rich quick" schemes (he even flirted with a yuppie image having seen the film Wall Street in the late 1980s!) could not disguise the fact that he was really just a silly dreamer - and his love of his family was obvious. When Rodney left home after an argument in the very first episode, Del's facial expression on his return spoke volumes. No words were needed.

Grandad immediately leaving his armchair to prepare Rodney a meal (another plate of salmonella and chips?) also spoke volumes. Here were three characters who often grated on each other's nerves, but who loved each other dearly. Del had brought Rodney up from the age of six after their mother died. We later discovered that Del and Rodney were actually half-brothers, and that Rodney was not even a blood relative of Grandad, but nothing could dent the unity of the Trotter family. They were more of a family than many of the 2.4-children-with-same-parentage variety.

David Jason began his acting career in the 1960s. He partly based Del Boy's mannerisms and dress sense on Derek Hockley, a builder he had worked for as an electrician before becoming an actor.

When actor Lennard Pearce died in 1984, Grandad died too, and Only Fools... began to move away from the traditional sitcom mould by including genuinely sad scenes which moved many people to tears. A touch of pathos had been a sitcom ingredient for decades, Sullivan himself spoke of being influenced by the 1960s sitcom Steptoe and Son as we've already mentioned, but Only Fools... moved things on further, blurring sitcom with drama, serving to enrich and enhance the show and to move the show's characters beyond being mere comic devices.

To fill the gap left by Grandad, Buster Merryfield joined the show as the boys' Uncle Albert.

The Trotters and their friends at the Nag's Head became people we liked, in some cases perhaps even loved, and cared about.

My step-father was often mistaken for actor Roger Lloyd Pack, Trigger in the series. He was even interrupted whilst having a pub lunch by a couple wanting his autograph! Of course, in such high esteem did my step-father hold the brilliantly brainless character Trigger and indeed the entire series, he was chuffed to bits!

Only Fools... was sheer magic... favourite scenes? Too many to mention!

The show has won various awards and has been named the best UK sitcom ever in a viewers' poll.

I suspect it might be.

But it was so much more than a sitcom.

Cheers! Nag's Head regulars in the 1980s: Trigger (Roger Lloyd Pack), Rodney (or should that be "Dave"?) (Nicholas Lyndhurst), landlord Mike (Kenneth MacDonald), Del Boy (David Jason), Uncle Albert (Buster Merryfield), Boycie (John Challis) and Marlene (Sue Holderness)

Some Of Us Were Watching In Black and White: Dickie Davies, Of "World Of Sport", Gets Ticked Off

Dickie Davies - World of Sport presenter - in black and white, of course.

Whilst colour TV became available in 1967, and became quite widespread in the years following, it is worth noting that quite a lot of us stuck to black and white well into the 1980s. For instance, my mother and step-father rented a slot meter colour set in 1978 but couldn't afford to feed the meter and so away it went after only a few weeks, and back came our very own, decrepit black and white set. Colour vanished from our house until the early 1980s.

Many of our neighbours were black and white folk in the early 1980s.

And one reader of the Sun newspaper on October 3, 1981, reminded Dickie Davies that we weren't all colour privileged:

Dickie Davies should try to remember that there are still lots of us with black and white sets.

Last week he told us our boxer was the one wearing blue shorts. Funny! On our set they were the same colour as the streak in your hair, Dickie.

More about World Of Sport here.

Daily Mirror, December 31, 1982 - the Rumbelows ("We Save You Money And Serve You Right") - make a tempting offer - RENT COLOUR TV FROM ONLY £6.95 DOWN!

For as "little" as £8.95 down, the Rumbelows would deliver and install your "good as new" set and give you a "superb" Ferguson clock radio.

In early 1983, I went in for a thrilling piece of 1980s technology - a 1982 Pye Tube Cube - with cassette, radio, digital clock and TV. It was a lovely bit of kit and the fact that the TV was black and white didn't bother me in the slightest. It served as my main TV set until 1987. Read more about the Cube here.

More 1980s TV Ads: "We Hope It's Chips, It's Chips!"

Ah, the bliss that was '80s TV adverts! Remember Jenny Logan and the Shake n' Vac ad? (Also remember Jenny answering questions from'80s Actual blog readers on the subject to celebrate the campaign's 30th anniversary in 2010? Look here). And what about the ecstasy and the agony of completing a Rubik's Cube and then discovering...

What about the lovely Beattie (Maureen Lipman) - "An ology?!!" - and dear Su Pollard and the singing donkeys ("Ooo makes a lovely cuppa...")?

Adverts sure stir up memories, especially when they're as memorable as these!

Ah, who could forget this one: "Will it be chips or jacket spuds? Will it be salad or frozen peas?"

Enjoy all the above mentioned and more by the miracle of YouTube below!

Coronation Street 1980s: Part 3: Mark Eden - Wally Randle, 1981/Alan Bradley, 1986

Alan Bradley (Mark Eden) was the most chilling Coronation Street character of the 1980s. Slowly but surely, we saw the facade of an ordinary, decent man drop away to reveal something horribly cold and calculating. Worse still, our Rita (Barbara Knox) was taken in by him, and almost lost her life, smothered by a cushion in 1989, because of it.

The story-line played out slowly from 1986-1989, and is remembered as one of Coronation Street's finest, ending only when Alan was killed by a Blackpool tram.

The story-line was also groundbreaking in that it was the first time The Street had featured such a slow burning, psychological drama.

But did you know that Mark Eden, so mind blowing as evil Alan, once played a very different role in Corrie?

Tis true!

When Elsie Tanner (Patricia Phoenix) started work at Jim Sedgewick's new transport cafe on Rosamund Street in 1980, she was bound to meet fellas.

And, of course, she did.

In February 1981, she met one Wally Randle and was attracted to him. She invited him to stay at No 11 Coronation Street with her, but sadly Wally saw it only as a friendly arrangement, and fled when Elsie made her feelings plain.

And guess who played nice lorry driver Wally? Yep, top prize is yours, Mark Eden!

Mr Eden's stint as Wally Randle lasted only from February to April 1981, and when Alan Bradley turned up in 1986, none of us remembered Wally.

In fact, if it was not for Alan Bradley and the Mark Eden link between the two characters, I'm not sure I'd even be recalling Wally now!

1989: The fatal tram - Alan Bradley has met his end, and Rita's wits are completely scattered. Another tram is apparently to feature in Coronation Street's 50th anniversary story-line!

Bernard Matthews - "Bootiful!"

Getting the bird for Christmas - December 1983.

Turkey roasts? Turkey steaks? Turkey sausages? Yum!

In fact, absolutely bootiful!

Norfolk turkey farmer Bernard Matthews came up with the advertising phrase "bootiful" in 1980.

The story goes that when the first of the ads was filmed in 1980, the Director asked Mr Matthews, who was standing on the lawn outside Great Witchingham Hall, all ready to become an ad star, how he personally would describe his turkey, and Mr Matthews replied

"Bootiful, of course."

Newspaper ads of the time ("Matthews Golden Norfolk Turkeys - as seen on T.V.") indicate that the telly ads were first screened in early 1981.

And "Bootiful" soon swept the country.

The first "bootiful" TV ad, filmed in 1980.

What about the workers?" - another "bootiful" ad, this time from 1982.

"Do yourself a flavour for 1981" - Daily Mirror, January 2, 1981:

"Turkey will gobble up more of our money in unexpected ways - turkey bacon, burgers and bangers."

An early piece of newspaper advertising linked to the TV advertising campaign, "Daily Mirror", April 1981: "Matthews Golden Norfolk Turkeys (as seen on T.V.)"

A break from talking turkey - Bernard on screen in 1988 advertising his lamb roasts.

Thinking back, my own personal Bernard Matthews favourites were the turkey roasts - creating a Sunday dinner effect without the hassle of cooking a joint - and the turkey sausages - great with savoury rice - a meal I ate about three times a week in my carefree, flat-sharing days of the mid-to-late 1980s!

The Beiderbecke Affair, The Beiderbecke Tapes, The Beiderbecke Connection, The Beiderbecke Trilogy

The Alan Plater telly series Get Lost!, starring Bridget Turner and Alun Armstrong, began on June 12th 1981. In the first episode, Judy Threadgold was (like Mrs Dale of diary fame) worried about her husband, Jim. Jim Threadgold had disappeared, leaving behind a farewell message on video.

Judy joined forces with fellow teacher Neville Keaton in an attempt to track Jim down, and so began a wonderfully quirky four part series - a joy to watch.

I never missed an episode and, aged fifteen, was puzzled over the show's appeal for me. It seemed slow-moving plot wise. It wasn't the Sweeney. It wasn't even good old Coronation Street. There were no Regans and Carters "nicking" villains and making hard boiled buddy comments to each other, no Elsie Tanners using pub ashtrays concealed in handbags to clobber snide Ray Langtons. Going by my previous plot-driven TV form, Get Lost! didn't contain a great deal to command my attention.

So, why did it?

It took me ages to work out that the clever dialogue and ideas contained within the series were what was making it compulsive viewing for me.

I wasn't used to clever dialogue and ideas. In fact, "ideas" were frowned upon round my way. Anybody who "had ideas" was not to be trusted. Getting by day-to-day was usually the priority.

Get Lost! was good, but something absolutely wonderful lay just a few years ahead...

Above and below: programme details from the original "Beiderbecke Affair" press pack...

... issued by Yorkshire Television in January 1985.

From the press pack - "We are on the brink of a new era, if only..."

Ronnie Scott's Jazz Club, London - the writer, members of the cast and production team gather for the launch of "The Beiderbecke Affair".

Back row (left to right) actors Dudley Sutton, Dominic Jephcott, Terence Rigby and Danny Schiller.

Front row (left to right) writer Alan Plater, director David Reynolds, actress Barbara Flynn and producer Anne W Gibbons.

-

"Look not upon the blondes when they are platinum..."

The first episode of The Beiderbecke Affair, a six part series, was shown on 6 January 1985. The show was similar to Get Lost! - it too was written by Alan Plater and also had two school teachers as its main characters, one of them being a jazz fan. But there were differences. The dialogue was wittier, tighter, cleverer, and the casting, whether by genius or lucky accident, was absolutely wonderful. Not that the Get Lost! cast had been bad, but this really was something else.

Trevor Chaplin (James Bolam), one of the two central characters, had well and truly "heard the music" of the jazz greats. He made frequent trips to headphone heaven.

Trevor hailed from the North East of England but had somehow ended up in Yorkshire, where he taught woodwork at a rundown-and-clobbered-by-the-cutbacks comprehensive school in the "moonstruck outer limits of Leeds".

Trevor's partner was one Jill Swinburne (Barbara Flynn), an English teacher.

Jill had stickers with slogans like Nuclear Power - No Thanks, stuck to her front windows.

Unlike her ex-husband, who (like so many) had protested when it was fashionable to protest and become a whizz kid when it was fashionable to become a whizz kid, Jill was a genuine idealist - out to save the planet, the whale, and anything else that needed saving. Her "let's go get 'em" attitude perfectly complemented Trevor's laidback approach and together they took us through three brilliantly idiosyncratic series - The Beiderbecke Affair, The Beiderbecke Tapes and The Beiderbecke Connection. The final series was in 1988.

Bix Beiderbecke, whose playing sounded like "bullets shot from a bell", was one of Trevor's jazz heroes, and his enthusiasm for this great man sparked off three adventures.

During them, we met other highly distinctive characters - including Big Al and Little Norm, who ran an illicit "White Economy" mail order business from a church crypt and an allotment shed; Sylvia, the oldest suffragette in town; and Detective Sergeant Hobson, who had a computer, a corrupt superior and a forward facing haircut.

And then there was the dog, Jason.

The whole thing added up to simply magical telly.

Trevor and Jill with Big Al.

The platinum blonde supplied Mr Carter with an exploding hedge trimmer...

Graduate policeman Detective Sergeant Hobson: "It is my view that the major challenge to the police force in the 1980s lies not with so-called major crime, but in the behaviour of people who, while outwardly respectable, show signs of social abnormality."

From the "TV Times", 1987.