I’m a whopping
stickler for organization: “fail to prepare, prepare to fail” and so on and so
forth. For that reason, since starting DitB I’ve factored a weekly trip to the
magazine aisle into my routine; it’s just easier to know which shows I’ll be
waffling on about next. For the most part, here’s how these TV mag excursions
play out: I saunter into Sainsbury’s, scoop up “TV Times”, chuckle at the
pubescent lads hovering around “PC Gaming” but looking longingly at “Nuts”,
make my purchase and then glance over it with a coffee. It’s all very fly of me;
once I did it wearing a blazer. Now here’s how this week’s outing played out: after
parking up between two estates both decked out with Union Jack wing mirror
stickers and window flags, I was forced to wade through an inordinate amount of
middle-agers browsing the barbecue ranges, flocking to the end-of-aisle Pimms
and combing their way through the bunting selection. I had to practically
barrel roll over the heads of excitable and tiara-clad schoolchildren, all to
the soundtrack of “God Save the Queen”. When I reached the magazine aisle it
was like Sandringham at Christmas, and my fought-for telly magazines had enough
pictures of the Queen’s face to make a book of first-class stamps look sharply
republican.
Ah, but of course:
this being the concluding week of Liz’s 60 years on the hot seat, how daft I
had been not to have foreseen this Jubilee orgy. Indeed, when monarchical
ceremonies and anniversaries are concerned, we Brits clobber our international
neighbours with displays of conviviality and celebration. My gym this week
announced its newest promotion: £60 for 60 sessions, all in honour of Elizabeth
II. Royal fever has us well and truly gripped for the second year running,
which meant a head-scratcher for me; with more Queen-related shows on the box
than corgis at the Palace, where do I start? Now, I have no clue whether Her Majesty is
a fan of BOGOFs (times are tough,
after all), but her subjects have embraced them and I saw no reason not to make
the best of them here. Thus, for the first time I made up my mind to dissect
two shows simultaneously; ITV’s “The Queen and I” and the BBC’s “The Queen on
Tour”. Once one has gotten past the first sounding like a low-budget film and
the latter conjuring up images of Her Majesty hitting Magaluf, there’s a
rationale at work; neither show has qualified for the ghastly amounts of
promotion and breakfast show-hype lathered on this weekend’s big-dog shows (if
my telly shows “Gary Barlow: On her Majesty’s Service” advert one more time
I’ll lob my Jubilee mug at it), and both are historical documentaries of sorts.
“The Queen and I”
especially appealed for its makeup. It’s true of Brits that whenever we are
made to feel involved in some cause or ceremony, we throw our weight behind it.
I didn’t give two hoots about “The Voice UK’s” Adam Isaac until I discovered he
lived close by, after which point I would have heartily embraced him as my
champion act (had he survived the quarter final cull). Monday night’s “The
Queen and I” explored home-video footage of our monarch across her six-decade
reign, interviewing its unlikely stars and average-Joe camera people about
their brushes with royalty. Friday’s “The Queen on Tour” went for a seemingly
incidental specificity, with former royal correspondent Jennie Bond charting
the Queen’s most publicised trips to the West Country. It wasn’t as hapless as
it sounds. Not quite, anyway.
 |
| Hope she didn't muck up the seating plan: The Cannings' royal visit |
It would have been
unreasonable for either half hour show to cram in all the Queen’s antics since
the coronation, but whereas “The Queen and I” went for a charming and eclectic
selection of home-video memories, “The Queen on Tour” delivered a hodgepodge of
content. The former opened with the interviewing of John and Francis Canning,
who had their March wedding gate crashed by Liz when she happened to be in
Manchester for the second day of her Jubilee tour. The couples’ incredulity,
and the whole episode being documented via mobile phone camera, lent that all-important
“familiarity” factor to the show; the Cannings’ astonishment was lucid and
justified. When John recalled, “Francis had a panic attack ‘cos she didn’t know
how to curtsey properly” it struck as genuine and relatable. The next batch of
footage came from Shirley Shearsmith who, in 1958, captured the Queen on cine
cam by balancing herself on a garden wall when the monarch visited Crawley. The
Cannings’ and Shearsmith’s stories were mismatched, but their mutual normality
and subsequent perplexity at meeting a royal justified the close pairing. This
was assorted content done well. “The Queen on Tour”, however, encompassed
tidbits of Elizabeth’s reign that struck as too disparate. After opening with
shots of the Queen’s 1949 visit to Exeter to commemorate the city’s rebuild
following the Blitz, program makers felt the need to include every subsequent
visit to the West whether particularly memorable or not. And just in case this
didn’t create sufficient incongruity on its own, “The Queen on Tour” coupled it
with vague references to what was going on for the Windsors and their subjects
at large; Thatcher’s 1979 clinching of power got a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it
mention, as did the death of Lady Di and Princess Anne’s divorce. It’s not that
these references aren’t engrossing, in fact quite the opposite. Glossing over
the death of Princess Diana with shots of the Queen visiting a Devon pub was
never going to end well.
 |
| Didn't they read my "Casualty" blog? Some went to extreme lengths to capture the Queen on film |
Although the BBC’s
“The Queen on Tour” made a mighty hash of giving viewers a diverse and
affecting account of the Queen’s West Country trips, it did trump ITV as far as
its historical element was concerned. The show hastily remembered that, in
1939, it was whilst accompanying her parents on a tour of the South West that
Elizabeth first clamped her eyes on her Phillip. The show likewise made room
for footage of a 25-year-old future-monarch returning from a trip from Kenya in
1952, having learnt she would soon become Queen. “The Queen and I”, though
beguiling with its intimate accounts of coming face to face with Elizabeth,
sacrificed the covering of momentous and engaging events from her life. About
halfway through, for instance, “The Queen on Tour” was delving into Her
Majesty’s shedding a rare tear at seeing The Royal Yacht Britannia
decommissioned, but “The Queen and I” was wrapped up in explaining one
schoolboy’s delight at planting a tree in Her Majesty’s honour. Charm and
eclecticism, eventually, wore thin.
 |
| Radiant: The Queen during her recent Exeter jaunt |
It might seem a given,
but what neither show skimped on was finding out about the Queen. To clarify, they both documented visits and
glaring life events but also took time to comment on her demeanour and impact.
“The Queen on Tour” did it with a smidge less craft, opening with the Queen’s
stoical adherence to the motto “I have to be seen to be believed”, including
one woman’s wonder at how “radiant” our monarch was in 1956 and rounding things
off with Kelly Thacker of the University of Exeter (where the Queen recently
opened a building) certifying, “she was shorter than I expected.” “The Queen
and I” brought in those with a touch more discernment than Thacker. Royal
historian Kate Williams (what a flawless name in such a profession) contended
that Elizabeth II was the first Queen to bring in the idea of film-star royals
and “getting out there”, and Dick Arbiter (Her Majesty’s former press
secretary) commented on her extraordinary ability to put people at their ease.
In effect, the show shrewdly called in the experts to complement the amateur
video footage, instead of following “The Queen on Tour’s” example of ill-fatedly
handing the amateurs the commentator role.
For me, “The Queen and
I” reigned supreme. What I nonetheless rejoiced about watching one program immediately
after the other, though, was the lack of similarity. I’m all for revelling
patriotically in the Jubilee extravaganza and holding the utmost respect for 60
years on the throne, but I draw the line at sitting through the same show
twice. Here’s to hoping this weekend’s royally saturated small screen maintains
such individuality across its offerings.
One Line Wonder
| Groupie: Jennie Bond documented the Queen's South-West tours |
“The Queen on Tour”
presenter Jennie Bond (discussing the scandalous and dramatic 1990s, and
demonstrating a knack for giving her viewers what they really care about…): It was the start of a decade of turmoil for
the Queen and her family. It was also the start of my time as the BBC’s royal correspondent.
Thanks for that, Jen.
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