This is me the Writer 11th May 2017

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The Nature of TV

The Nature of TV ©

By

Michael Casey

Well we watched the last ever episode of Grimm last night and I did say I may write about it or the Nature of TV this morning, in fact its evening and I’ll write this before bedtime. The Nature of Tv has beaten Grimm so where shall I begin? Well Grimm was great and it was a little off beat too, so perfect for all the family. The humour was just below the surface and the action and fantasy was real fun. The timid ok, the coward repair man was one of our favourites. And last week when Hank died my small daughter had to go upstairs so she would not cry in front of us all. So Hank if evr you read this that is the Ultimate accolade, a fan loves you so much she cries.

Which is one of the most important things about good tv, you must like the actors and the story they are sharing with us all.We are told here in the UK that we have the best tv in the world, and we only get the top 10% of USA telly, not the rubbish. There is nowadays far too much Reality TV which they say is natural, but obviously so very badly scripted. I am so old I can remember watching the first reality tv show on British TV many decades ago, it was called The Family, you can Google it for yourself. Decades later when I was working at CPNEC Birmingham doing everything, yes really. I met Sharon Osborne who had her own reality tv show. I was actually in her bedroom, just trying to set up the wifi. She is so very very small too.

Obviously I detest reality tv, I know of it but I would never watch it, not unless it was the final show and it would be replaced by The Test Card. Vacuous People shouting too loudly wearing the latest worst fashion ever should not be watched. They should be, they should be, well use your own imagination. Its just the worst common denominator tv, wannabes, God Help Us.

They should let me sit in an armchair and tell stories straight to camera, I do have 1100 of them over 1,065,000Words. But that’ll only ever happen if I am stark naked and covered in ice cream, then it might become a Format Hit. People would have to phone in and guess the size of my toppings, or phone it and decide where the wafer should be shoved, or if another 1000 pounds of ice cream should be poured over me as I tell a story about the North Pole.

Camera angles are important, in fact my wife was showing me some snaps they took for the fashion company she works for, a slightly different angle can help sell the product. She was modeling some hats today, so I do know a little about the subject via her.

Which brings me to MTV and their ilk, if you are interviewing why are the irritating angles, and merge to Black and White. I grew up with black and white and 2, yes only 2 tv channels on a square box of a tv, yes like what you see in a museum. So please can we just have nice angles, and not jerky angels as if somebody had just Tazered the cameraman, or they ran out of money to process the film.

Good tv angles do make a difference, the look down from above at the murder scene, and then the pull back to reveal more. These and lots of others really do help tell the story. In our house we’ll comment on the camera direction, as well as the timing of the acting. In comedy they say the secret is all in the timing, or as Frank Carson used to say, you’ve heard them all before, but its the way I tell them. He was right, Roger drove him back to the airport one morning after he stopped at CPNEC, he was so funny Roger cried with laughter and nearly drove into a ditch.

So timing makes all the difference, or if you are reading my stuff where I put the commas in makes the difference. There is one famous person who has a tv show but I don’t find it funny because the timing is out by a second or so. Everybody else laughs but because of the bad timing I cannot. Which is sad because the material is good. I talked about this one Christmas when at my lawyer sister-in-laws house, and she agrees with me. Or maybe I’m just a grumpy old comedy writer, who’ll never be famous like them.

In tv drama, less can be more, the phrasing can make all the difference. However as a student of radio plays, 20 years worth. Sometimes the three times repeat method is tiresome in the end. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you. In real life its I’ll kill you you bastard, as the wife or girlfriend reaches for the carving knife. But I am a quick runner and the wife cannot throw for toffee.

If you have watched as many films as we have in our family you will comment on the nature of the film during the 3 minute breaks for the adverts. That’s why we record films and skip the adverts or watch on BBC which has no adverts anyway. The 3 mins of ad breaks are perfect for tea making and toilet breaks. Music is a big big deal, as it heightens emotions and when done properly really adds to the drama.

Nudity and kissing in drama does make a difference, but if the man goes into the post office and takes his clothes off and takes his passport photo in the booth before putting his clothes back on, that is funny when he explains that he’s going on a Nudist Holiday.

Alternatively a man, it could be a women but we all have equal opportunities nowadays, so the naked man arrives at the post office and then puts clothes on before having a clothed photo graph in the booth. He explains he was a nudist, but he has been expelled, so he has have a fully clothed so people can spot him as an ex-nudist, the clothed photo is the mark of shame.

Speaking of shame I have to finish now but you can all talk amongst yourself. Its a shame when people talk over your favourite programme, but the reverse is when people are totally totally quiet and gasping or holding their breath. Or even laughing till they cry. Or even silent silent tears. This is proof that tv has worked. I have to go and pick an armchair tomorrow, I’m going to be on tv talking directly to camera, Michael Casey Storyteller will be on Sky.

And if you believe that then you have a lot of Hope or Alcohol in your bloodstream. Nite Nite.

 

Grimm

we just watched the final ever episode of Grimm   so in the morning i may write about that
or the nature of tv.
let's see what peculates in my mind over night. thankfully last night i had no pain episodes.

https://www.amazon.com/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC

here's my pretentious writer poses, by the way the dictionary was a prop, if my own vocabulary isn't good enough then I don't look in any book for words.

In the Shade

In the Shade ©

By

Michael Casey

Today was a sad day for me, I had to buy a new pair of shades, or sunglasses as some still call them. My last pair lasted 4 years, since my last holiday 4 years ago, we were in Malta. I’d go again, if I could afford the Health Insurance on top. Otherwise I’d go back like a shot, we were in San Juliana, which is near the giant Hilton.

I had some RayBans, real ones, they were unclaimed lost property at CPNEC. If you find something then if its still unclaimed after 3 months so they become yours. So all the photos on my book covers have those RayBans in them. In Malta my Arthritis started to attack me, and I did my best limping around.

At the end of our week there I gave my RayBans to the black hotel worker who was carrying really heavy stuff around for days. Obviously as I’d worked in hotels I appreciated all his hard work. The sun was beating down on him and it was a spontaneous thing to do. So now he had shades while he did his hard work and we drove away in a taxi to the airport. He looked a bit like Denbay the bodyguard to Red from the Blacklist tv show.

Having no sunglasses meant that I could treat myself to some new ones after all the years of RayBans. They are the best for my face, so now while waiting for the plane home I mouched around the Duty Free and decided again half on impulse to buy replacement Shades. Again because the new ones actually fitted my fat face they were the design I bought. I never knew proper shades cost that much, but as I was technically on holiday I bought them.

Those shades are the ones you see me wearing on some of the silly photos I post with writing. I hate posed photos that’s why you get the silly ones to match my silly words. My daughter  does not approve, she is developing her strict doctor persona already. By the way for her pure maths mock GCSE I mentioned yesterday, she got an A, she knows she can aim higher and get the Astar. She is taking normal maths too. So cross those fingers and light those candles for her.

Now the obvious question what did I but today to replace the lost ones bought in Malta? I had a look in a couple of shops and in the end bought a cheap pair of women’s sunglasses from Boots the major pharmacy chain here in Birmingham and the UK. So why am I such a masculine man, who makes women quiver now wearing women’s shades?

My girls just looked over my shoulder and are all laughing hysterically, I hate being interrupted in mid stream while I’m writing/talking to you all. As I was saying why is such a hunk as me now wearing women’s shades? Get lost, go away, right now. Not you the readers, I’m talking to Totoro the cat, she was wondering what the 3 human women were laughing at. Totoro may be bilingual but she cannot read English yet, otherwise she’d be laughing too. A cat as a Literary Critic, God help me.

The shades nowadays are weak and for people with narrow faces that have been trapped between lift doors. I did ask one guy in a shop could he squeeze my face, not my spots, my face. Then the shades in his shop may have fitted my face. He just laughed at me, but he did manage to squeeze a troublesome blackhead at the back of my head. STOP. You all believed that bit, either I’m a good liar, or an even better storyteller. Black HEAD, have you not looked at any of my photos? If you can see one, just one black head I’ll give you a pound, a pound of flesh, its the only way anybody will take some, and I’ll lose any weight. Do you think Shylock was really the first Weight Watchers coordinator in Shakespeare’s time?

Where was I, in the kitchen making coffee, but I’m back, yes, I remember so I ended up in Boots, not a shoe shop, I have to say that for any of my international readers. I just spotted Russia looking at my stuff, so hello to them, and I did repost a couple of Russian translations for them. I’m conceited enough to think even the Russians will love me stories, because I’m simple. And if you drink enough Vodka anything is interesting, even Politics.

So there I was in Boots and I looked at the prices and I knew what was in my pocket, so I then looked at the designs. The one that grabbed me the most was the Theresa May’s husband style of glasses but in shades form. It was actually in men’s column on the display, I tried them on and they fitted my fat face, so it was all decided. I even looked in the lipstick mirror above and pouted my best pout, with my women’s shades on. I liked them, they are not really like Mrs’ May’s husband’s glasses, but if we stood besides each other you would say is that Michael Casey’s older anorexic brother, well compared to me. And who is the women in the background, with the great legs wearing the hippy coloured shoes, if she clicks them together will she be in Kansas or back in Downing Street?

So I paid my tenner and removed my spare sunglasses and put the new ones one. The spare pair makes me look as if I’ve lost my Labrador. The I walked back down the high street, just concentrating on trucking right, with just the right wriggle to my bum. Only my shoe got caught in wriggly spearmint, so I kind of did a moonwalk as I tried to rub it from my shoe. Some black school kids observing my moves came over to teach me how to moonwalk, so I thanked them and continued trucking down the street.

As I walked I was looking at my own reflection in all the shop windows, over the road I’m sure I saw a man in tweed doing the exact same thing, or maybe it was just my imagination. I did tell you Mr Bean was a Queen, yes really was at Queens Oxford, where one of my brothers went. But I digress, so of course I went into Aldi, as I do every day, its part of my exercise and sociology experience. I got my stuff, not as much today because I’d ruptured the budget to buy my shades.

At the checkout I asked the new pretty girl cashier what did she think of my shades, she said she liked them. I said that’s because they are women’s but obviously I am liberated and wear anything for a woman. She laughed, if she knew about my collection of women’s clothing in my cellar, and how I dress up at weekends and cruise down Broad Street with David Walliams also in drag, then perhaps she would have had a different opinion. I told her they cost a tenner at Boots, so she’ll be paying them a visit.

So back home I ran for the mirror and did all my best looks, Zoolander has got a lot to answer for. I was still wearing my new shades when my girls came home from school. Do you notice any difference I asked with my best look from Zoolander. You shaved, oh that nasty blackhead from the back of your head is gone. You combed your hair. So they did not notice anything. They can get an A is pure maths, which is like as hard as a A level 2 years early. But they cannot notice what is right in front of them. They’ll never be writers that’s for sure.

And why do I wear shades? Because 40 years ago I started while still a teenager in a computer room, with smoked glass to keep the heat from attacking the computers, for years we were in the as same room as printers and their ink and dust. But at least we had smoked glass to protect the computers from over heating. So if you are in that environment for 21 years, then when you leave the room the daylight hits you. Hence the shades, so now you know, I am no poser. However if anybody provides me with some real RayBans for fat faces then I am willing to pose as a center fold in SunGlasses Weekly, the mag for film fans.