Are the old ones really the best? ... Dad's Army. Photograph: Rex
So Ian Lavender of Dad's Army reckons it's "sad" that telly programmers "need" to repeat his old show because "they're not making programmes for the whole family to watch" anymore. Dad's Army, he says, is still being enjoyed by children who hadn't been born when it was made and has taken up residence in the public heart because 1) "it's so funny", and 2) "all the family can watch it, your sick granny, the kids, everyone".
Now first up, Ian, I don't know which teenagers you've been hanging with lately, but I find it hard to believe that any of today's "the kids" are missing Big Brother or EastEnders because they're religiously tuning into old repeats of Dad's Army. It's possible that the odd one has caught bits of it when flicking through the channels, or even watched five minutes when visiting their sick granny, but if any of them actively seek it out and find the programme even mildly amusing I'll eat my Wii. It's just not happening - today's kids are far too sophisticated. They might watch re-runs of The Office, I'm Alan Partridge or The Day Today, but then they're still brilliantly sharp, visionary and relevant telly shows.
I would also contend Ian's first point, that Dad's Army is funny. I've always been confounded by its mythical status, to the degree that I've made myself sit down and watch it to see if I could work out what the fuss was about. I failed to be enlightened. The script was woeful, full of predictable double entendres and plot twists that even I, with my milk bottle glasses, could see coming. The most popular elements of the show - according to the laughter track - seemed to be the weekly re-use of catchphrases such as "They don't like it up 'em" and "Permission to speak, sir", the charm or wit of which was beyond me.
The characters were one-dimensional stereotypes, all dutifully serving their place within the (very English) sitcom genre they represented. The stiff upper-lipped pompous old boy, the effeminate mummy's boy, and the dour, penny-pinching Scot were three of the most clichéd characters, but there were other cardboard cut-outs too. The show struck me as an old-fashioned kind of "theatrical" TV - the actors' tendency to "declare" every line and the heavily signposted narrative seemed like hangovers from a time before programme-makers understood that television was a far more intimate and subtle medium than the stage.
I interviewed Ben Elton many years ago, when I was still in awe of him as a result of my fixation with The Young Ones. I remember how amazed and disappointed I was when he told me his favourite TV comedy of all time was Dad's Army. It made me wonder if he was prematurely senile. Now, it seems, I might have been onto something. Still, even if he was, he could still enjoy Dad's Army.
