Television
Crotchety
Richard ingrarns
Leading contender in the race for my Worst Play of 1977 award must be Waiting for Sheila by John Braine which Anglia TV saw fit to put out at the weekend. One of the major drawbacks of 'Mr Braine's drama was that it was by no means clear what was going on most of the time. As it was quite late at night (about 10 pm) when it started, I made a special effort to concentrate. My mind was unfuddled by any stimulants or narcotics. I even made the precaution of taking copious notes. Even so I found the thing well-nigh impossible to follow.
We begin with an ugly-looking young businessman with a beard called Jim chatting up a bird in a wheelchair called Davina. The subject of the conversation is Sheila, Jim's wife. Things are not going well between the two of them. Jim hints darkly that the reason for the discord lies in the past. There ensued a baffling series of flashbacks, the first of which showed Jim's first encounter with Davina at which the fol. in'Adng exchange took place: 'She: Why are You staring at my bosom? He: Because I like it. Is there any reason why I shouldn't? She: No I do my share of crutch-watching. 00es that shock you?' This may convey a flavour of the author araine's line in dialogue, to those who for Whatever reason missed the play. There were still more flashbacks — Jim as a little boy watching his mother being naughty on the settee with his Uncle Sidney; Jim being given a job in Droylsden's stores by Davina's husband Clifford, part of the deal apparently being that Jim should marry the boss's secretary, Sheila; Sheila telling Davina how she had made a man of Jim: Jim Puking in the lay after discovering that Sheila, now married to him, has been carrying on with Clifford as well as another man at Droylsden's Stores, whose name I didn't catch; and finally an angry scene between Jim and Sheila. The play ended with Sheila in the nude, licking her husband. A little bit of porn to tcnind it all off, like a dollop of artificial Cream on a stale Individual Fruit Pie in the British Rail buffet at Stockport. What is to be done about Angela RipPon? Already there are reports that ITN, appalled by the success of the Rippon Phenomenon, are desperately searching around to find the Independent Television answer to the BBC's leggy lovely. I hope and pray that they will abandon the search and stick with Reggie Bosanquet who for all bis little lapses remains the best newsreader in the business. Angela Rippon has many good points. She is attractive, happily married, neatly dressed, and good-natured. She has good legs, dances well, speaks passable
French, and is also, so I have read, a very competent horsewoman. There is only one drawback and that „is that she is not very good at reading the news. Her most notable fault is a tendency to put the emphasis on the wrong word. Thus, to take a standard BBC news item, 'Back home, fire swept through a Neasden warehouse early this morning', la Rippon is quite capable of putting the stress on the word `Neasden'. This is a most irritating tendency. There is also her jarring rather nasal voice which I have referred to before. I suggest that Angela Rippon is miscast as a newsreader. If she insists on being a television personality she would be better off on something like Blue Peter, cutting up yoghurt cartons.
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