One of the
particular strengths of this programme is its surefooted confidence in
presenting the viewer with continual procession of things that are interesting
to look at. Much of these stem from Wendy Craig's clowning abilities, so in
this episode we get to see Mrs Harrison; try on her vetenarian boss's white
coat and stethoscope and interact with a (life-size, charity) model dog and
(anatomical) model cat; pay for a bicycle with jars of pennies; attempt to
mount then ride the bicycle while simultaneously carrying her shopping; and
then hide the bicycle from her son by wheeling it in and out of various rooms
while her son innocuously wanders about the house.
It doesn't stint on visually arresting properties and actions for other performers, either; a pair of dirty football shorts for the younger son to retrieve from the washing and turn back-to-front; a large grey angora rabbit that a customer brings into the surgery; a boy's shirt that gets it's sleeve torn off at the rowdy birthday party; and getting snooty shop assistant Frank Thornton to climb up a ladder to remove a bicycle from a wall display.
On top of all this, there are occasional flashes of tangential historical visual interest that come through this being almost fifty years old; the Harrisons' buying their cornflakes from Sainsbury's (at the height of theirmodernist packaging design); the elder son handling a new album of McCartney; and the authenticly jumbled and unbranded feel and layout of an independent department store of 1971. The accumulation of all of these diverting and pleasurable details make this something that's enjoyable to watch more than once.
It doesn't stint on visually arresting properties and actions for other performers, either; a pair of dirty football shorts for the younger son to retrieve from the washing and turn back-to-front; a large grey angora rabbit that a customer brings into the surgery; a boy's shirt that gets it's sleeve torn off at the rowdy birthday party; and getting snooty shop assistant Frank Thornton to climb up a ladder to remove a bicycle from a wall display.
On top of all this, there are occasional flashes of tangential historical visual interest that come through this being almost fifty years old; the Harrisons' buying their cornflakes from Sainsbury's (at the height of theirmodernist packaging design); the elder son handling a new album of McCartney; and the authenticly jumbled and unbranded feel and layout of an independent department store of 1971. The accumulation of all of these diverting and pleasurable details make this something that's enjoyable to watch more than once.
No comments:
Post a Comment