I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue

As I mentioned previously, I've wanted to see a recording of I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue since I first started listening to Radio 4. I can remember realising that people actually got to be in the audience for the show and desperately wanting to be part of that. Tonight I was lucky enough to do exactly that.

What could be better than just getting to see I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue? Well, being there for the first recording of the 60th series was pretty great. But discovering that John Finnemore was
the guest panelist was unexpectedly amazing.

It's not stalking if it's accidental. Definitely.

The recording was at the Playhouse Theatre, Weston-super-Mare. It started at 7:30 and we weren't finished until 10:30 (with a short interval, ideal for sorting out car park faffage). I don't envy the person who has to decide what to cut to get that down to two half-hour shows. Though quite a bit of the time was spent re-recording Jack Dee's lines. Tonight Weston leaned a valuable lesson about the pronunciation of "Danube".

The first show will be broadcast 11th November, listen out for anyone laughing a little more than everyone else and that'll probably be me. It was hilarious. The letter from Queen Victoria to Isambard Kingdom Brunel was my highlight, without a doubt. Though Barry Cryer twerking is something I won't forget in a hurry!

In finishing all I can say is: "Tunnels" Oh. And.... Da-noob

John Finnemore, Tim Brooke-Taylor, Jack Dee, Jon Naismith, Graeme Garden, Barry Cryer.
You'll have to trust me on that.

A Lifetime Ambition

Okay, not a lifetime but certainly over twenty years worth of ambition:

When I got an e-mail from the I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue mailing list on Thursday, I did a true double-take as I realised that Clue would be coming to Weston. Followed quickly by an e-mail out to my family to share the excitement. 

My initial plan was to be on the phone as the line opened at 10:00am but, fortunately, I decided to drive over and get tickets in person. Thanks to road closures for a marathon, I was a little later than I'd planned but I was still surprised by the length of the queue when I got there.

09:36

I was even more surprised when the theatre man told us that they were expecting seats to go so quickly that, although they'd do their best, some people in the queue probably wouldn't get tickets. It was a tense wait and, once the doors opened, all the successful early birds had to suffer our envious glares as they left clutching tickets.

My technologically-clued-in section of the queue were exploiting smart phones to their full potential. One man was ringing the box office, I alternated the phone and website, while another updated us on his wife's progress at home (we cheered every time she reported that the website timed out). The theatre staff kindly updated us on the number of tickets they'd sold and, very slowly, it became clear that we were probably going to be lucky.

Some grumpy queuers seemed to feel that everything was taking too long, my section quietly expressed the opinion that it was a very un-Radio-4 attitude and they should be ejected from the queue. We also plotted to cut the phone lines, let a dog into the manager's office to attack the electrics and further jam the phone lines every time we saw the kiosk staff come to the end of a call. 

Fortunately, in the end we didn't have to resort to dirty tricks and I'm now the proud owner of tickets to see I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue! Perhaps the best thing I overheard while waiting was "I'm looking forward to finding out what gender Samantha is." I think someone's going to be disappointed...

The News Quiz

Last year I was lucky enough to see recordings for a sketch show and two sit coms, previously I'd seen the Now Show but last night was my first panel game.

Back in November, despairing at my chances of getting Cabin Pressure tickets, I also applied for a News Quiz recording. Months passed, it was clear I'd got nowhere with Cabin Pressure and I forgot exactly what date I'd requested for the News Quiz. It fell completely out of my mind.

So when an email arrived from the BBC a couple of weeks ago, I assumed it must be one of the newsletters I'm subscribed to. One comedy double-take later I realised my mistake. So I found a hotel bargain and booked my train tickets.

I did a little research on the internet beforehand about how early the queue starts and my paranoia soon grew. I was lucky enough to have some company last night and my "get there before 6:30" advice soon changed to "the earlier the better".

At 5pm I joined the queue and, for about 15 minutes, the queue consisted of two of us. The BBC have made some changes and they now let people in a lot earlier than the time on the ticket, something I was exceedingly grateful for considering the temperature yesterday evening.

We were let in at 5:15 but I lost out on a number 2 sticker because they'll only sticker a ticket for people who have arrived. I lingered outside with a growing band of others waiting for sisters, husbands and friends.

There was some disagreement over how best to describe Portland Place (apparently "head towards Regents Park, look for the glass building framing a church spire" is no good, the better description is "the massive building lit with blue light") but, after convincing the security guard that I definitely didn't have anything sharp - no, not even keys - we were in.

Number 20 & 21!

The biggest difference between the News Quiz and everything else I've seen is that there were no retakes. None. Not the linking bits, not cuttings, nothing. The whole recording was long, we didn't finish until 9:15 and I'm very curious to see what's made it onto tonight's show.

The panelists were Jeremy Hardy, Mark Steel (who looked like he might be coming down with something), Katy Brand and Daniel Finkelstein. It was fantastic fun and everyone in the audience enjoyed themselves no end.

I know that News Quiz tickets aren't easy to get but it comes highly recommended. I fully support Mark Steel's proposal that there must be room in the digital spectrum for a sweary version of Radio 4. Now that I've seen the sweary version of the News Quiz I just don't want to go back.

Party

What are you doing on Wednesday night at 6:30? No, you can do that on Thursday. The correct answer is: listening to Party.

Last Wednesday night I went to see a recording of episode three and four of series three of Party, by Tom Basden for Radio 4. Now obviously I haven't heard the first episode, so I can't absolutely guarantee you that it's going to be as fantastic, funny and sharp as the second two episodes but I would put money on it. Quite a bit of money.

As I mentioned before, I have somehow managed to miss Party on Radio 4 so I bought series 2 from iTunes before going to the recording. I knew it was funny but I really wasn't expecting to be laughing almost constantly throughout the entire recording. Tom Basden is a really good writer. Not only are the episodes very funny but they're also just a single thirty-minute scene. And that's not only clever but also very impressive.

Earlier in the year I went to see Old Harry's Game and it was funny. I laughed. But Party is funny and I couldn't stop laughing. I know that I've highly recommended a lot of stuff in the past but Party is well worth listening to.

Oh, and you should know: when the third episode is aired, Jonny Sweet is actually eating Jacob's Cream Crackers. And he didn't even sneak a drink. Plus, Tim Key attempted the splits (though I'll be honest, the crackers were more impressive).

And, if you really are busy at 6:30 on Wednesday, then Party is going to be the Comedy of the Week Podcast. So you really have no excuse not to listen.

Helympics

Turns out I was a bit too pessimistic about yesterday's Old Harry's Game recording:

128 meant I got to sit downstairs and - in one of the rare situations where going somewhere alone is an advantage - I got tacked on the end of a row a bit further up than the rest of the 120 - 150 sticker group. 

The staff organising the seating on Sunday were a bit clearer and more rigid in their queuing system but there was still no shortage of very polite, Radio 4 style loitering going on. Imagine 250 people in a small space, all of whom desperately want to get a good seat but not at the expense of being seen as pushy or getting in anyones way. Thank goodness for organised studio staff with microphones.

I hadn't thought before about the differences between seeing a sketch show and seeing a full half-hour comedy (or rather, two of them) but it was a very different experience. Is it ridiculous that I found myself wanting to shut my eyes and just listen? Considering I'd travelled to London specially, probably yes. But there's something odd about seeing the actors stepping out of scenes to sit down when they don't have lines for a while - however practical it is - that messes with my suspension of disbelief.

I think I have pretty good suspension of disbelief. I'm basically extremely gullible. Go on, try me, I'll believe just about anything up to a point. But, strong as my suspension of disbelief is, it's also extremely fragile and once that point is reached there's no going back. I can't enjoy certain parts of The Lord of the Rings films because I accidentally saw a bit of the extras that included footage of Fangorn Forest. Now my brain knows that it's a set so I see a set. This is why I never watch special features on DVDs. Ever.

Although I'm looking forward to hearing John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme broadcast (1. there's a whole other recording's worth that I've not heard; 2. I will finally get the insomnia song out of my head) I think I may be looking forward to Old Harry's Game more. Although I've heard the complete two episodes, which are broadcast Thursday 12th & 19th, I need to know whether I'll enjoy it for what it is or whether I've blown my suspension of disbelief entirely. If I have, it doesn't matter. It'll come back. Because I finally know what Jimmy Mulville looks like and he looks nothing like the Thomas I've got in my head.

Andy Hamilton closed the recording with a tribute to James Grout, who died this week. Brilliant as Annette Crosbie is, James Grout's voice was something else entirely. I think the whole audience felt privileged to give him the tribute of a round of applause.

Punctuality II

Once again I'm in the queue outside the BBC and once again I've got my timing wrong. Although I'm a good half hour earlier than yesterday, the queue is already back to the corner. I wonder just how early this queue starts.
Although I'm closer to the start, I think the queue is more densely packed so I'm going to predict sticker number 202. And a long line for the bar once we're in.

Things I Have Learned II

Things I've learned today:
1) if you want to go to a radio recording, go early
2) the radio theater is really quite big
3) John Finnemore has shoes that make his feet look long. Or long feet. Not sure which.
4) the Jubilee Line has travelators!
5) even in the age of ipads, radio scripts are still paper
6) when I tipsily said back in April that you should listen to John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme because it'd be funny, I was right. You should and it is.

Punctuality

As I type this on my irritatingly small phone keyboard, I'm looking out over a massive pit of BBC workstations at Broadcasting House. The canteen area in which audiences wait before radio recordings has a wall with glass windows and, no matter how often I've seen this sort of thing on TV, it's still weird to see it in real life. It's like the secret lair of a bond villain, complete with odd tracks just outside the window for equipment to go back and forth.

Why am I here? Because I was lucky enough to get tickets for the recording of John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme. Happy as I was to get that confirmation e-mail, it's got nothing on the relief I felt when I got a little sticker on my e-ticket 20 minutes ago.

The advice that the ticket unit gives you is: "admission on site 6.15, studio doors open from 7:15". What they don't tell you is that, of you turn up at 6.20, the queue will already be right the way round the corner of the building and the people all around you will already be joking about getting turned away in an "I'm not going to admit just how bothered I'll be if I'm turned away" sort of tone.

Fifteen nerve-racking minutes later and I was in.

I'm now in a very informal queue that seems to have formed just because a couple of people went to stand by the doors. I'm not sure that we even know that they're the right doors but no one is going to miss out on a good seat for the sake of a little extra queueing.

I don't know if things have just changed a lot since the last time I went to a recording or if this is the John Finnemore effect. I've seen one girl in a pilots jacket so I suspect the latter.