Sitting In The Back Row...
My TV colleagues were recording a new situation comedy for ±«Óãtv 3 tonight and I thought I'd go along and watch it happen. I didn't try to pull rank and watch it from the control room. I wanted to know what it's like to be part of a studio audience and so I joined the queue outside Broadcasting House in Glasgow and showed my ticket to the security guard like everyone else. There was a reason for this.
At this year's annual conference of the Broadcasting Council for Scotland, one of the members had pointed out that the term 'audience handling' sounded a little inappropriate. Indeed, this is the term many of us in broadcasting use without thinking when we talk about inviting members of the public into the studio to take part in programmes. It got me wondering what that whole experience must feel like and tonight I found out.
Well, the queue streamed into the building at about half past six . There's a long canopy outside to protect you from the rain but it wasn't needed tonight. Once inside you get the chance to hang up your coat and are then offered a drink. The space outside the TV studio is a bit cramped and I know that's one of many things that will change when we move to our new building at Pacific Quay.
Just after seven o'clock we were led into the TV studio. There are banks of seats and I was guided to one at the very top and right at the back. A floor manager then gives you fire exit information and then an all-important 'warm-up' man appears. His job is to get you in the mood for laughing and, crucially, to keep you happy and alert in the long pauses between scenes. That's when the camera and audio crew have to change positions.
Our warm-up man tonight did a fantastic job. He had us all singing and dancing and playing games. Most of us were exhausted by the end of the night, mainly because of the temperature under the bright studio lights.
As for the sit-com itself, well, I better not tell you too much about that in case I get into trouble for revealing secrets. It was very funny and the actors gave wonderful perfomances. Naturally we found it just as entertaining on the rare occasions when they fluffed a line and had to do it all over again.
Yet a lot is demanded of the audience too. We sat in the studio until after half past nine and dutifully laughed again and again when a scene had to be retaken. I realise I tend to laugh about two seconds after everyone else and I began to worry that I might disturb the actors. I shut my mouth. Then I began to worry that I wasn't laughing enough. Such is the paranoia of the studio audience.
It was thrilling to think we were witnessing the birth of something special. Who knows, the show we saw tonight might one day be a classic to rival Steptoe & Son or Porridge. Decades from now viewers will be listening to my delayed guffaws.
No laughing matter, really.
