Living Abroad Magazine
Daytime TV : European Style
"One Italian weather programme uses some chap in uniform to present the weather. Interesting concept, can’t see it catching on back in Blighty though, Our John Kettley in medals and braids?"
So, you’ve moved to a new European country, you are watching daytime TV and no longer get to see your favourite British local news presenter. You quite enjoyed the playful banter of Sophie or John back home winding up the bulletin. You got used to their style and dress sense and if you’d been watching long enough, you knew if they were having a bit of an off day.
But now, you can warm to the charms of Helga or Francoise briefing you on local and world events, with the added delights of European TV for you to savour and enjoy.
Delights ? I have tried, honestly. Purely in the interests of research you understand, I have spent more than the odd hour slouched on the sofa trying to find something on European television that doesn’t conform to stereotype. I don’t want to be one of those cynical Brits perpetuating yet another “fast show” type tale of foreigners who live up to their image.
Come on it’s 2005, the French surely don’t sit around in black polo necks talking philosophy, and it isn’t all endless police series where “les flics” smoke a lot, have affairs and look pensive while solving a crime? The Italians aren’t just about glitzy game shows, the Germans aren’t all serious burghers?
No? Over three years I have pressed the remote across 47 channels in the hope I’d be pleasantly surprised that things have altered. Before you all scream in protest that there is a programme on Greek TV that is brilliant in its innovativeness, or the Belgians make a jolly good programme on chocolate making. I concede there are exceptions to the rule and quality does start to improve around tea time.
This German cookery programme made Delia look well, positively exciting
However, flipping the remote recently, I came across a German cookery programme that was so dull in it’s presentation, I had put the kettle on before Herr Schmidt or whoever, had poured the flour in the bowl, and that was only the second ingredient. If you happen to miss any of this mesmerising production, they did offer you the chance to phone in for the recipe which would set you back. 60 euro cents per minute. Nein Danke.
Now before you get the idea that Jamie Oliver is more my style you would be wrong. Jamie although endearing, has camera angles that are hard for middle-aged eyes to follow, and I will never aspire to riding a scooter through the streets of London, but this German cookery programme made Delia look well, positively exciting.
Cookery programmes abound across the European airwaves and the Italian programme “La Prova del Cuoco” comes with presenter Antonella, dressed in a cow motif apron. She sporadically bursts into song while stirring the sauce, meanwhile cartoon birds and flowers flit and fly across the screen.
Now, I do like Karlos Aguinano on Spanish TV, a wonderful chef who imparts small tapas of wisdom along with his tortillas. But on the same channel you will also find the delightful “Tips from Granny” given by a white haired lady (complete with bun) on how to make your own cold remedy - something to do with a lot of gauze and filtering of various substances which you then inhale.
The Italians were arguably the first to use weather girls with very low cut tops
The surprising thing about the Italian cookery programme is that the presenter had most of her clothes on. I started watching Italian TV over twenty years ago and notice today programmers still haven’t lost their penchant for leggy blondes and brunettes on game shows, usually accompanied by a short, older, dyed haired, permanent Positano tanned lothario. The Italians back then were arguably the first to use weather girls with very low cut tops. This made interesting viewing when they leant over the map to point out the weather in Sicily. Ask any man the forecast and they weren’t quite sure but said it sure looked promising in Palermo.
One Italian weather programme now uses some chap in uniform to present the weather. Interesting concept, can’t see it catching on back in Blighty though, Our John Kettley in medals and braids? Nah.
One friend told me that there used to be only two channels on Norwegian TV and they were on and off. I’m sure things must have changed by now.
The delights of early morning Swiss TV brings you a webcam going over all the mountain peaks with a background of James Last type music. It lists the temperatures at the summit and occasionally if you’re lucky you’ll get a bit of yodelling thrown in.
The morning breakfast Portuguese show that we pick up, has a strange and bizarre set. For some reason a clown intermingles with the audience who are on full view, yawning, looking somewhat disinterested.
Oh, and those adverts. Last year during the football European Cup it was great to channel hop and watch the marketing boys in each country come up with the goods at half time.
On Italian TV we got adverts for pasta, tomato sauce, and cars. A certain kind of sausage featured a lot on German TV with plenty of adverts for beer, and the French? Perfume and cars. Stereotypical. Pas du tout! Some of the domestic products are interesting for their name only. The “really strong spray which gets rid of all calcium from your shower head” is called “Cillit Bang!” and I have always wanted to go into a shop and ask for “Krap” car cleaning polish On the German shopping channel the man selling the figure transforming (Zamber PantyPushupEffekt!) knickers looks like he could use them himself having obviously consumed too many sausages during the football championships.
Joey’s voice seems to have gone up a few octaves
Whether you are in Geneva or Rome there will always be an American soap doing the rounds, either with subtitles or dubbed. 'Friends' in French isn’t bad but Joey’s voice seems to have gone up a few octaves when he changed nationality.
Richard Whiteley’s counterpart on the French equivalent of “Countdown” “Des Chifres et des Lettres” looks as if he just got out of high school. Instead of that clock ticking away while the contestants try to concoct a word they give you -ah, so French - smooth Jazz.
Ainsley Harriet is omnipresent on BBC Prime
I am not going to get smug and say the Beeb do it so much better. We are a dish-less and satellite free family here but we can pick up BBC Prime on cable. Whenever I switch on, that Ainsley Harriet is omnipresent, plus constant repeats of “Yes Minister.” They also have this filler called “Holiday snaps” and I reckon I know every nook and cranny in Prague as it has been featured at least twenty times in the last year. Back in the UK the opening sequences for BBC One have dancers and modern images. Here on BBC Prime we seem to be stuck in a time warp with it’s introductory opening shot of Big Ben and fireworks and bangers, probably left over from Millennium night.
The British programmes that have made it onto European TV bring the wonders of the Tellytubbies saying “Bye Bye!”, “Adios!” and “Tschuss!” in other languages.
The True Star of European TV?
In my book though the true star of the whole daytime European programming has got to be Silvia Wadhwa from CNBC Europe. Each afternoon the Squawk Box programme goes to stock exchanges in each city to find out if there is a dip in the SMI index or the rise in the Xetra Dax.
Live from Frankfurt there is Silvia in her full glory, summing up the latest German financial situation all interspersed with English proverbs and idioms “You know zis company has really shut ze stable door after ze horse has bolted. “Well Simon, I am probably going to let ze cat out of the bag if I say zis but...” There has got to be someone taking bets behind camera on how many she can come up with in each report. She wouldn’t last a minute on Italian TV. Some media Armani suited guy would have wanted her slimmed down, made up and had her teeth prettied.
Long may she last, she’s the best entertainment on European TV. Anyway, gotta go, I notice there is something coming up on Swiss TV on the mechanics of clockwork making.
