Sunday, October 07, 2007

It's a Long Story

Well, that’s the most infuriating work I’ve ever done in my life: four weeks of banging my head in frustration to try and get it done right.

It didn’t help that the person I was directly working under hadn’t been involved in the brief introduction/interview so his feelings were that I had been dropped in his lap without his consultation. I could understand where he was coming from.

Between the second and third year at The Esteemed School of Art I worked the summer at an animation studio. The head of department had been on holiday when I was taken on and upon her return, the first words out of her mouth were pretty much, “Who the hell is this?” During those next few months, however many late nights or weekends I worked to help meet deadlines, nothing I did ever pleased her.

On the last big project at the animation studio, the one for the TAC, I found myself in her shoes. The producer decided the digital department needed extra bodies without bothering to consult me. I’d spend at least one day of every weekend correcting their work.

Discussing it with Work Buddy, it reaffirmed my belief that I can’t just do a merely adequate job and beat myself up if the standard isn’t the highest obtainable.

Oh well, moving on... We celebrated fifty years of a little ball of metal going beep beep beep. (We did, didn’t we?)

Now with summer all but officially over, the television schedules have started to pick up a bit. At least that’s what has been promised, although I haven’t seen that much evidence. Except in last week’s incredibly grim, three-part Murphy’s Law.

I’m got a great fan of the twinkle-in-the-eye, “top o’ the mornin’ to ye!” blarney bullshit. Given the option I’d rather be repeatedly punched in the face until it resembled a bowl of rice pudding with too much strawberry jam mixed in. When Murphy’s Law first started out there were instances where it strayed dangerously to the line.

Then, come the third season, it went from separate one-hour dramas to a single unrelenting story than ran through the six episodes. This year in only half the time, it did it again, turning out something wonderfully dark and tough and brutal.

Typically something so unremitting took a swift kicking in the ratings, especially on the first night, up against the utterly inoffensive Doc Marten: a South-Western Northern Exposure so diluted down that it has become the equivalent of television fabric softener.

The problem with a multi-part drama is, if it doesn’t get the audience on the first episode, it’s doubtful the numbers will pick up. It’s interesting that this year Kudos have decided to alter the format of Spooks, having one ongoing drama run throughout the ten episodes of the new series starting this month. How it’s received remains to be seen, I guess. I certainly prefer multi-part stories.

Anyway, back to work. One other thing about the past four weeks... I’m behind on absolutely fucking everything!

4 Comments:

At 8:37 am, Blogger potdoll said...

What are your plans now then doggers?

 
At 11:52 pm, Blogger Good Dog said...

Dolly, I started something new today. It's close to what I was doing before but not as brain damaging.

Better hours and more money. And the people are much nicer.

Then Work Buddy has stuff for me, which I'm getting either in the week or at the weekend.

And I've been making a go of catching up with the writing, which is something.

And I'll give Spooks a shot.

 
At 3:09 pm, Blogger Lucy V said...

Admit it: you don't like Doc Martin 'cos it reminds you of your yokel past with the morris dancing and the bells, right? ; )

 
At 8:18 pm, Blogger Good Dog said...

Pah, that's you, that is - not me. It's The Wicker Man that reminds me of what we got up to on the moors.

The thing with Doc Marten is the locations are great, the stories are stinky poop, which is a shame.

 

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