Interview: Peter Dale, Channel 4 Television (Evening Standard)
By David Rowan
PETER Dale never expected to have an election issue on his hands. As head of documentaries at Channel 4, Dale suspected there might be a little political fallout when he commissioned Jamie's School Dinners. But for Jamie Oliver's war against the Turkey Twizzlers to prompt a national campaign against the 37p lunch, ministerial pledges to improve school nutrition, even Tony Blair's intervention to back "Saint" Jamie - well, not many TV executives can plan for that sort of impact.
But Dale, a quietly spoken, casually dressed 49-year-old, seems to enjoy stirring things up, especially with an election looming. "Quite good timing, isn't it?," he smiles. "We like that."
An avowed fan of "mischief ", he prompted further discomfort for Labour last week with The Government Inspector, about the events surrounding David Kelly's death. Political debate today is so bland, he believes, that it is up to the broadcasters to "rattle a few cages" when they can. "I mean, we're not going to bring any governments down with these programmes," he says. "But keeping people on their mettle - well, that has to be a good thing."
He gives Oliver full credit for suggesting the school dinners series. "It was quite obvious within five minutes of meeting him that he felt passionately," Dale recalls. "The key is it's very focused - the simple message that meals cost just 37p, that could get people's juices going. Jamie said at the beginning that the kids would hate him, that he didn't know if he was ready for it, and when I saw him during the making of it, he really was having a tough time.
"But it's very seldom you get a TV programme that really grips people, their will to change things. We'll have to see whether the Government follows through." Despite claims yesterday from Margaret Hodge, the children's minister, that the Government had been working with Oliver for a year to develop new policies, Dale is unaware of any discussions while the series was being made.
Is it the role of television documentaries to change government policy? No, Dale admits, his duty is merely to "document change" and help viewers understand what is happening around them. "But if broadcasters don't galvanise people, what are we there for? It's about tapping into what matters to them."
Dale's critics argue that he has pursued too many ratings-led formatted shows at the expense of more conventional documentaries. Series such as Wife Swap and Faking It, while popular with viewers, were dismissed by some as contrived entertainment.
Nonsense, he responds - they simply offered innovative new ways to tell a story. "Some people will always lament that things ain't what they used to be, but fashions change," he says. "If I can get five million people to understand the domestic politics of our living rooms, and 1.5 million to watch what went on in the Moscow theatre siege in a traditional talking-head documentary, I've won, haven't I? I've got nearly seven million people to understand the world better."
Critics' claims that the channel has lost its innovative edge "hurt", Dale says. "I've been batting criticism ever since I got here about Channel 4 losing the plot, Channel 4 dumbing down. Series like Faking It and Wife Swap have shown broadcasters in other countries new ways to tell stories about how we live. If the critics don't like them, they can go somewhere else."
But traditionalists will be relieved to learn that the Wife Swap era is now over. "We've lived through a decade of grotesque individualism, all that 'me' business-but I think people are now thinking about the meaning of community," Dale reflects. "All those concentrated studies of individual life answered a particular need at a particular time. But I sense now a greater interest in the impact of business, government, schools on our lives - series about what we want our institutions to do."
For all his reputation as a populist, Dale learned his trade the "old school" BBC way. The son of a nonconformist minister and a teacher, he joined the BBC after Liverpool University as a research assistant in 1979, the same year as Mark Thompson.
He directed Everyman, 40 Minutes and Inside Story documentaries, winning a number of awards. Seven years ago, Michael Jackson lured him to Channel 4 to commission other people's documentaries. Last month, he was put in charge of More4, a free-to-air digital channel devoted to the genre, which will launch this autumn.
But why do we need yet another digital channel? "It's going to fill an enormous gap in digital and Freeview homes," he replies, "where there's nothing between the rarefied atmosphere of BBC4 and Carp Night on Discovery Home and Leisure. Where is the accessible, intelligent, smart, responsive station in the digital world?"
But can a budget of just £30 million - around six per cent of Channel 4's - produce quality? "It's enough to make a difference," he insists. "There will be quite a lot of repeats, but two-thirds of the budget is going on origination. It's not Channel 4 budgets, but if you say to a producer, 'Go make three films about something you really care about, and here's the price of a semidetached house in Surrey,' a lot will seize that opportunity."
HE ALSO reveals that Channel 4 is creating a "documentary foundation" to nurture a new generation of British talent.
Before More4, Dale bought in a number of American cinematic documentaries, such as Fahrenheit 9/11 and Capturing the Friedmans, without appearing to develop any home-grown equivalents. But in the past six months, he says, he has commissioned six films "that aren't necessarily destined for TV but could end up there after they've had a theatrical life".
Kevin Lygo, director of television, has committed £1 million a year to the foundation. "Nowadays, TV has huge commercial pressure to deliver," says Dale, "and for very good reasons we're not making the huge range of international docs that maybe we did 20 years ago. So who are those talented filmmakers who are increasingly feeling that TV is not for them? This is about Channel 4 being imaginative, being nimble, thinking of new ideas."
Yet didn't those bold foreign documentaries, now marginal in the schedules, help establish Channel 4's reputation in the first place? "We could have 365 international documentaries a year, most of which aren't watched, or we could have Angus Macqueen make three programmes about cocaine, commission Nick Broomfield to go back to South Africa and China, on top of a dozen Unreported Worlds," he replies.
"My passion for documentaries can survive all the slings and arrows from those who say that Channel 4's lost the plot, that it's all Celebrity Big Brother. You can survive any amount of that when you know what you're doing is right."
(Evening Standard, March 23 2005)
PETER Dale never expected to have an election issue on his hands. As head of documentaries at Channel 4, Dale suspected there might be a little political fallout when he commissioned Jamie's School Dinners. But for Jamie Oliver's war against the Turkey Twizzlers to prompt a national campaign against the 37p lunch, ministerial pledges to improve school nutrition, even Tony Blair's intervention to back "Saint" Jamie - well, not many TV executives can plan for that sort of impact.
But Dale, a quietly spoken, casually dressed 49-year-old, seems to enjoy stirring things up, especially with an election looming. "Quite good timing, isn't it?," he smiles. "We like that."
An avowed fan of "mischief ", he prompted further discomfort for Labour last week with The Government Inspector, about the events surrounding David Kelly's death. Political debate today is so bland, he believes, that it is up to the broadcasters to "rattle a few cages" when they can. "I mean, we're not going to bring any governments down with these programmes," he says. "But keeping people on their mettle - well, that has to be a good thing."
He gives Oliver full credit for suggesting the school dinners series. "It was quite obvious within five minutes of meeting him that he felt passionately," Dale recalls. "The key is it's very focused - the simple message that meals cost just 37p, that could get people's juices going. Jamie said at the beginning that the kids would hate him, that he didn't know if he was ready for it, and when I saw him during the making of it, he really was having a tough time.
"But it's very seldom you get a TV programme that really grips people, their will to change things. We'll have to see whether the Government follows through." Despite claims yesterday from Margaret Hodge, the children's minister, that the Government had been working with Oliver for a year to develop new policies, Dale is unaware of any discussions while the series was being made.
Is it the role of television documentaries to change government policy? No, Dale admits, his duty is merely to "document change" and help viewers understand what is happening around them. "But if broadcasters don't galvanise people, what are we there for? It's about tapping into what matters to them."
Dale's critics argue that he has pursued too many ratings-led formatted shows at the expense of more conventional documentaries. Series such as Wife Swap and Faking It, while popular with viewers, were dismissed by some as contrived entertainment.
Nonsense, he responds - they simply offered innovative new ways to tell a story. "Some people will always lament that things ain't what they used to be, but fashions change," he says. "If I can get five million people to understand the domestic politics of our living rooms, and 1.5 million to watch what went on in the Moscow theatre siege in a traditional talking-head documentary, I've won, haven't I? I've got nearly seven million people to understand the world better."
Critics' claims that the channel has lost its innovative edge "hurt", Dale says. "I've been batting criticism ever since I got here about Channel 4 losing the plot, Channel 4 dumbing down. Series like Faking It and Wife Swap have shown broadcasters in other countries new ways to tell stories about how we live. If the critics don't like them, they can go somewhere else."
But traditionalists will be relieved to learn that the Wife Swap era is now over. "We've lived through a decade of grotesque individualism, all that 'me' business-but I think people are now thinking about the meaning of community," Dale reflects. "All those concentrated studies of individual life answered a particular need at a particular time. But I sense now a greater interest in the impact of business, government, schools on our lives - series about what we want our institutions to do."
For all his reputation as a populist, Dale learned his trade the "old school" BBC way. The son of a nonconformist minister and a teacher, he joined the BBC after Liverpool University as a research assistant in 1979, the same year as Mark Thompson.
He directed Everyman, 40 Minutes and Inside Story documentaries, winning a number of awards. Seven years ago, Michael Jackson lured him to Channel 4 to commission other people's documentaries. Last month, he was put in charge of More4, a free-to-air digital channel devoted to the genre, which will launch this autumn.
But why do we need yet another digital channel? "It's going to fill an enormous gap in digital and Freeview homes," he replies, "where there's nothing between the rarefied atmosphere of BBC4 and Carp Night on Discovery Home and Leisure. Where is the accessible, intelligent, smart, responsive station in the digital world?"
But can a budget of just £30 million - around six per cent of Channel 4's - produce quality? "It's enough to make a difference," he insists. "There will be quite a lot of repeats, but two-thirds of the budget is going on origination. It's not Channel 4 budgets, but if you say to a producer, 'Go make three films about something you really care about, and here's the price of a semidetached house in Surrey,' a lot will seize that opportunity."
HE ALSO reveals that Channel 4 is creating a "documentary foundation" to nurture a new generation of British talent.
Before More4, Dale bought in a number of American cinematic documentaries, such as Fahrenheit 9/11 and Capturing the Friedmans, without appearing to develop any home-grown equivalents. But in the past six months, he says, he has commissioned six films "that aren't necessarily destined for TV but could end up there after they've had a theatrical life".
Kevin Lygo, director of television, has committed £1 million a year to the foundation. "Nowadays, TV has huge commercial pressure to deliver," says Dale, "and for very good reasons we're not making the huge range of international docs that maybe we did 20 years ago. So who are those talented filmmakers who are increasingly feeling that TV is not for them? This is about Channel 4 being imaginative, being nimble, thinking of new ideas."
Yet didn't those bold foreign documentaries, now marginal in the schedules, help establish Channel 4's reputation in the first place? "We could have 365 international documentaries a year, most of which aren't watched, or we could have Angus Macqueen make three programmes about cocaine, commission Nick Broomfield to go back to South Africa and China, on top of a dozen Unreported Worlds," he replies.
"My passion for documentaries can survive all the slings and arrows from those who say that Channel 4's lost the plot, that it's all Celebrity Big Brother. You can survive any amount of that when you know what you're doing is right."
(Evening Standard, March 23 2005)
<< Home