Banking directives, shares, consumer advice ... but wacky. Photograph: Graham Turner
In his very funny book Set Up, Joke, Set Up, Joke the former Cheers staffer Rob Long touched on one particularly amusing aspect of the life of the TV sitcom writer. When stuck for original ideas, the TV sitcom writer (single, slight paunch, utterly neurotic) would offer up a documentary s/he'd seen the night before or a date s/he'd recently been on or something even more banal in the hope of finding a hook which would provide the basis for their next big hit. S/he'd riff for a minute or so, throw in a couple of funnies and then look expectantly at her/his partner who'd be drinking her/his fourth cup of coffee in their West Hollywood development office. And her/his partner would look up and say: "Is there a show in that?"
I often think of Rob Long when watching Working Lunch, BBC2's daily business and consumer affairs show. It's a hidden gem, full of info and advice and humour and warmth, and it has been doing great things since it debuted in 1994. But its incongruous appearance and off-the-wall tics make you wonder just how BBC top brass thought there was a show in that.
Picture the scene. Television Centre, fourth floor. A couple of senior executives are staring out of the window.
"OK, so we've got to come up with a daily economics programme to appeal to the interested amateur and the hardcore financial nut alike. It's part of this 'charter' thing, whatever that is."
"So what are you thinking?"
"Well, fairly straightforward, on the face of it. You know, city news, shares, new banking directives, consumer advice. But let's mix it up, throw in a curveball, make it wacky. People love wacky."
"Too right they do."
"Like that presenter guy. What's his name? Bald, small eyes, slightly doughy physique. Always going on about stocks."
"That's the bloke - I like the cut of his jib. Get him on the phone."
"OK, I'll make the call. Who else?"
"That middle-aged woman with the Hungarian surname. Wears appalling jackets. You now, speaks with a lisp. And see if that clever little so-and-so Gompertz is available. Nik Wood, too, to front the thing, and you know I'm always partial to a roving reporter. Someone like Pittam, say, doing faintly ludicrous outside broadcasts from - and I'm thinking out loud here - a thriving pistons manufacturer in Hunslet."
"Sure. Sets and design?"
"I'm picturing aquatic. Sharks, mainly. I mean, nothing says uncertainty in global financial markets like a giant cartoon fish tank, does it? And the cheaper the better. Marks us out as kooky."
"OK. Theme tune?
"Anything with a sax solo. Make it too long, with peculiar phrasing."
"So, is that everything?"
"Yeah, I think it is."
"OK, great. Just one thing: is there a show in that?"
So, yeah, on the face of it, it seems as though there really isn't. But Working Lunch, back on our screens after its customary Christmas vacation, remains one of the more important programmes on television. It might appear out of kilter with the fatuous, over-produced schlock that is much of 21st century television, but at its heart are the sort of Reithian values which are often overlooked in the multi-channel age. It informs. It entertains. It helps consumers (with some excellent reporting on the Farepak crisis, for example) and maintains a superb website. It's public service broadcasting at its best: television without condescension or cynicism that doesn't treat its viewers like morons. So what if 4/7 of its presenters are bald, or if its production values are so crummy they're described by one online encyclopedia as looking like "bad ClipArt"? Appealing to the key 16-24 demographic is probably not Working Lunch's primary concern.
And it's genuinely funny, at least for a financial show. Look beyond the dry segments about new guidelines from the FSA or end-of-year profit warnings from pharmaceutical multinationals, and you quickly discover the team has a rather nice line in self-deprecating humour. They're aware of their own idiosyncrasies, too: of how Gillian rolls her sleeves up when she's nervous and how Adam is given to rolling out his excellent Bruce Forsyth impression.
As it enters its 15th year, it seems to be as strong as ever. I think there's definitely a show in that.
