Jon Plowman interview, continued ...
to think their remit means playing Friends, Will & Grace and Scrubs in peak, and putting Peep Show at 10 or 10.30 and occasionally making a big thing like Green Wing. I'm just surprised. We are the only place left in Britain doing pre-watershed comedy now. That's bad for the industry, bad for writing, bad for the audience."
He admits he would like to have Green Wing and Peep Show. "But [its stars David] Mitchell and [Robert] Webb are coming back here to do a sketch show. Hooray! I know that they talked to Channel 4 briefly but 4 didn't want it."
What of the criticism that BBC television leaves radio to take the creative risks - launching series such as Little Britain and Dead Ringers - and picks off only the successes likely to win ratings? "That's silly," he responds. "No, we're immensely lucky in having the fantastic opportunity to try a show out on Radio 4, or 3, or 2, and then look to stick some on BBC1. You'd rather comedy on BBC1 was much more hit and miss, would you? Besides, it's two-way - with The League of Gentlemen and Goodness Gracious Me, we paid a bit more to make the radio show as an article of faith that it would then be made for TV."
His current projects include a new sitcom written by Jennifer Saunders: Jam and Jerusalem, her first since Ab Fab, due to air late next year. "It's about the WI, really - about a doctor's wife in Devon who helps in the surgery, then suddenly her husband dies, so what does she do? It's rather warm, and has got Dawn French, Joanna Lumley, Maggie Steed, Sue Johnston - every character actress I could lay my hands on." At the press officer's suggestion, he retracts the reference to the Women's Institute. "They're litigious and they slow handclap," he says mischievously. "Actually, we've had to reedit two programmes, including Little Britain, because they objected. It's expensive and tedious."
He is also excited about a new post-Christmas BBC2 series, Hyperdrive, billed as the first scifi comedy since Red Dwarf. The premise, he explains, is that teams of people in space have to persuade aliens to relocate to Peterborough. He's having us on, surely? But no: Plowman takes his comedy seriously.
"Comedy is fantastically important, as it marks milestones in people's lives," he says. "We remember when we watched the first Blackadder or Ab Fab. I don't think this Christmas people will be buying DVDs of the best of Crimewatch. But they might buy Extras or Little Britain."
One final question. With his considerable influence on our popular culture, could he share his ultimate joke? You won't be able to print it, he says. Try us, I reply.
"OK, it's a beautiful sunny day, and a little girl is walking with her dog," he begins. "Coming the other way is a vicar, who smiles and says: 'Hello little girl, what's your name?' She looks up with a beatific smile and says: 'Angelica.' The vicar asks why she is called Angelica.
"'Well, my parents said I looked like I was sent by the angels.'
"'Oh, that's very sweet,' the vicar says. 'So what's your dog called?' 'Porkie,' she answers. 'Why's that?' he asks. 'Because he [expletive] pigs!'"
For all the gag's longevity, Plowman bursts out laughing. Just don't tell the Women's Institute that this is the man in charge of BBC humour.
(Evening Standard, November 30 2005)




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