Could it get this glamorous at Heat magazine? ... Courtney Cox Arquette in Dirt. Photograph: Five US
Oh the excitement, oh the suspense. WAS James Nesbitt's run in Jekyll merely an extended audition for Dr Who? Would the next Doctor bother climbing in his expandable box... or would he just look up "Dalekstermination services" in some kind of colourful phonebook instead? And what would it all mean?
Discussion raged, of course, until Stephen Moffat entered the argument and declared it to be slightly over-excitable claptrap. So there we are then. Will he, will he, won't he? No. No he won't. Still we've got to talk about something until the next big British TV drama comes around (yes, STILL waiting, and don't say "Dr Who Christmas special" to me or I'll scream).
I mean, it's not like we can get excited about the idea of a British take on Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, although God only knows we've been trying our hardest to get excited about the original (even though it's already resigned to the big video shelf in the sky, and we all know it). Actually, not everyone's been getting excited. As Steve Williams quite sensibly says on the OTT blog:
Throughout the rest of the series, we'll root for Matt and Danny and their efforts to make the thing work. If they succeed, all will be right with the world, and maybe the network's share price will rise a few dollars and they might supply some slightly better champagne for the after-show party. If they screw up, everyone dies! Oh, hang on, no they don't.
Which, determined as I always am to find goodness in Mr Sorkin's fruits, rings quite true indeed. As, in fact, does Dan Owen's review of the same.
We should have a British version though. Imagine it, it could be set backstage at The Friday Night Project, filming the torture and pressure on the poor producers and writers as they struggle to put together just one more gag for the show - sorry, excuse me, one gag for the show - while Justin Lee Collins and Alan Carr fight bitterly, love wildly, argue high political conceits and cry over pictures of global injustices before putting on those happy, crazy faces and walking onstage to entertain the nation. It would be shit, yes. But it would be British, damnit.
Not British, or Sorkinistic, or trying to be funny, or in fact connected at all (seamless links, as always, Anna) (Thank you) - there was a lovely link in idents.tv to a short Making Of... documentary about the Six Feet Under title sequence, which is, I admit, the kind of focus on TV minutiae that I love because, yes, I'm a geek. But it WAS one of the finest title sequences of recent years. So there.
Also in the "About telly rather than presently ON it" category, a nice informative little piece from buddytv.com about the genesis of the series Lost. So there you are. Next time you're down the pub and you hear yourself utter the words "Apparently based on that terrible film Castaway with Tom bloody Hanks in..." remember - you heard it here first. Well, not strictly here, more there really. Or somewhere else.
People seem to be getting quite enthusiastic indeed about the new Courtney Cox Arquette vehicle, Dirt, currently playing on Five US. But, although I've watched every single episode, I'm reserving public judgment for now. However, I will say I'm planning a British version. It's set in the offices of Heat, and each week lives are torn apart, addictions founded and relationships shattered on the pressing issues of which part of Charlotte Church they should circle with a big red marker THIS week!
Come back next week for details!
Well, maybe.
