After Dark

(Note - I had a couple of nice pictures to illustrate this piece, but Blogger is focked at present and won't allow photos - hopefully I can edit this to bring the photos in when it's working again - it's so much prettier with pictures, don't you think?) About 15 years ago Channel 4 hit on the fantastic idea of corralling a gang of talking heads into a TV studio decked out like a sitting room with sofas and comfy chairs for a programme starting at around midnight on a Friday. The room was punctuated with trays of snack-food and soft-drinks and flagons of wine and decanters of stronger stuff, so that the guests could refresh themselves while they debated, live, the issues of the day in a relaxed 'open-ended' format (ie there was no 'ending' time - the debate coming to an end 'when it came to an end' and there being no 'chairman' but a 'leader of discussion'). The programme was called 'After Dark'. The first few Friday evenings were worthy but dull as third division politicians and public figures sorted out the ethical issues of abortion, euthanasia, test-tube births etc. Then one fateful Friday, Helena Kennedy (populist liberal lawyer) was to 'lead discussion' on the subject of male violence towards women and feminist issues generally. Various other worthies made up the guest list, but for reasons which are utterly inexplicable the programmers had invited Oliver Reid, thespian, chauvinist pig and noted piss-artist to contribute his twopence worth, surrounded as I've noted by copious freebie booze (this is a man who, in his youth, reputedly drank 136 pints of beer on his two day stag party. And who once appeared drunk on a TV programme and aimed a punch at Henry Cooper, missing him and connecting with actress Wendy Richard). What could possibly go wrong? Well, by the time the show started Ollie was already more than a few sheets to the wind, and was already drinking fortified wine from a half-pint glass, which he replenished regularly in the first hour or so. He was seated next to a wee frumpy woman who was apparently a prominent American feminist writer, though I cannot now remember her name (actually I can - she was Kate Millett, but I know nothing about her). As soon as she realised how drunk Reed was she was obviously both disgusted and alarmed and she was less than impressed when Ollie began, with great relish, repeatedly and very audibly breaking wind in a semi-musical fashion, apparently deriving tremendous enjoyment and satisfaction from the activity. At about one hour in Ollie broke into a rant about conscription and National Service and could not be deflected from this by Helena's best promptings. By that stage he was well into "I'll tell ye another fuggin' thing.....bassas, fuggin'....you're my best mate, you are.....fuggin' bassa....." mode. Eventually, the rest of the guests, greatly outraged, were able to prevail upon Ollie to stop ranting, and urged him to leave the studio, which he agreed to do, announcing, "Right, I'm off for a slash". Peace and tranquillity reigned for about ten minutes until Ollie could be spotted staggering around the perimeter of the set, tumbler of wine in hand, before lunging drunkenly into view and falling dramatically head-first right over the top of the sofa which contained the wee feminist wumman. His legs collided with her head repeatedly as he struggled to right himself - which he eventually did without spilling a drop. The wee wumman was incensed - quite rightly, by her treatment at Ollie's hands and feet, and she turned to Helena Kennedy to demand that Ollie be excluded forthwith. Ollie chose that fairly inauspicious moment to seize her by both sides of her face and kiss her long and full on the lips. At that point Channel 4 pulled the plug and took the programme off the air, amidst suggestions that the police had been called. Half an hour later the programme resumed with Helena Kennedy announcing that Ollie had promised to behave himself. Cut to Ollie grinning the mad grin of the utterly and hopelessly drunk. Ninety seconds later Ollie made his first contribution under the new circumstances. He said, "Look, I'll put my plonker on the table if you don't give me a plate of mushy peas". The plug was pulled and the programme never appeared again. Ever. Oliver's crowning achievement, was, however, still to come, as his later drunken appearance on Michael Aspel's show, when he delivered an impromptu and utterly deranged version of 'Wild Thing', has since been voted the 90th greatest ever TV moment.