I HAD HOPED YOU’D SEE MY FACE [488]

Before Wallace & Gromit, “Chicken Run” and Shaun the Sheep, stop-motion specialists Aardman Animations was known to the young me for both the Chaplinesque adventures of Morph on the BBC, and for five-minute pieces for Channel 4 based on recordings made with members of the public. Our family had a VHS cassette that collected these latter works: alongside Aardman’s celebrated video for Peter Gabriel’s song “Sledgehammer” were vignettes about a social security office, a newspaper editorial meeting, memories of living during the Second World War and, in Nick Park’s Academy Award-winning “Creature Comforts”, living on housing estates or in old people’s homes recontextualised as animals living in a zoo.

The one that has stayed with me the longest, outside of the further series of “Creature Comforts”, was “Ident” (1989), directed by Richard Starzak (credited as Richard Goleszowski), a film that adapted improvised noises from the comedians Arthur Smith and Phil Nice that suggested conversation while rarely using words, creating a story of someone being made to wear masks in various situations. It is very mature, spiky, comic and surreal, the sort of film that makes you develop a taste for something similar.

I became used early on to strange-looking animation, as Channel 4 often followed lunchtime broadcasts of “Sesame Street” at the time with animations from Eastern European countries like the former Czechoslovakia and Yugoslavia, rich in traditions of abstract and suggestive animations that rarely used words, so I never found “Ident” scary, like commenters have claimed. The flattened 2D-like style and rough texture of the characters, including a dog that became the star of Starzak’s later series “Rex the Runt”, were already par for the course.

“Ident” was part of “Lip Synch”, a five-part series of “vox pop”-based films made by Aardman and shown by Channel 4 in 1990. David Lord, a co-founder of Aardman and director of two of the films, “War Story” and “Going Equipped”, has said there was no overarching theme for the series, but his contributions, and “Creature Comforts”, are most straightforward in their construction. Barry Purves’ “Next”, an almost-entirely wordless film featuring William Shakespeare auditioning, either for a stage role or for a place in Heaven, by acting scenes from his own plays, is as much of a standout as “Ident” is, but the “vox pop” theme is not found.

Meanwhile, Starzak has either turned Smith and Nice’s improvised sounds into a story or applied them to one – I just wish I knew. The film is set in a maze, arrows featuring throughout. Our unnamed lead character gets ready for his day by pulling his face into shape. After yelling at his dog, he passes a window, pulling down a blind with a better view printed on it. A figure I first took as being like a Roman statue, but also could be their wife, says letters of the alphabet while putting a mask on them, for a more acceptable face. When the mask is rejected, the statue’s words create makeup that spats onto the character’s face, creating a mask regardless, the angry reaction crumbles the statue into a smaller version of itself. 

Arriving at work, a clock on the wall moving as slowly or quickly as they perceive time, the man and their manager wear masks to converse, but when the man takes his off to talk more informally, he is shouted down to a smaller size himself, a mask is placed on him that changes the shape of his nose to fit. The workplace appears to be making the masks themselves, popping into shape on a conveyor belt in the background, a uniform product everyone must wear, but they become misshapen when the man is shouted down, indicating their defective nature.

After hitting the head of an obnoxious canvasser, he is whisked by a crowd into a pub, meeting a friend with a similarly changed face, blowing of steam with the impression of a chat identifiable just out of earshot in any British pub. Returning home drunk, he is confronted by everyone he has met, either metaphorically or literally, and tries putting on another face and juggling balls to impress everyone, which fails. A hard zoom in to real, scared-looking human eyes through a plasticine mask, an image I find suffocating, looks at the warped existence around him, leading him to walk dejectedly away. 

He sees himself in a mirror and, in a moment of realisation, takes off his mask – he looks almost reborn, better than he looked at the film’s start. The dog jumps through the mirror, now a window to the world outside the maze, looking like the picture printed on the blind – the man follows. Marvelling at his new surroundings, he comes across a doppelganger, which mirrors him until they both eye each other suspiciously, leading them to tear at the other’s faces, making them into the masks we saw before. Time to concrete over paradise to build another maze.

To make the point again, “Ident” is only five minutes long. I have watched it many times, and it is a visual poem, one that gains greater significance the older you become. I’m not about to put on a mask now, having been given an early lesson in the effects of such a mindset.

IF YOU’RE NOT THE ONE [36]

The first act of 2017 appears to be replacing circling hippos with an aerobics class. After ten years, BBC One has replaced its channel idents, themed around “circles,” evocating the globe logos it used for many years, in favour of snapshots of groups of people, directed by photographer Martin Parr, themed around the idea of “oneness.”

So far, we have just four idents, out of a promised twenty-four – the aerobics class, a group of sea swimmers, and a slightly different version of each one. They are a bit sparse, with no music or sound apart from what is in the scene, and too mundane when compared with what they replaced. There are also too few idents available right now, risking outstaying their welcome by the time the next ones appear.

I thought that enthusiasm for TV idents was just an online pursuit, where you can go into as much detail as you want, but I am no longer sure. I really should know, as this happened before.

The first time I appeared on the radio, said in anticipation of a next time, was on Monday 29^th March 2002, when I called Nicky Campbell’s morning show on BBC Radio 5 Live. Earlier that morning, BBC One switched its globe-shaped hot air balloon for “Rhythm and Movement” - groups of people dancing.

One of the idents, filmed at the Minack Theatre in Porthcurno, Cornwall, featured ten ballerinas performing a graceful dance, to the sounds of a string quartet that was led by a cello. This particular ident was described as being “too middle class,” and I called up to point out the sole point is to tell you what channel you are watching. It did sound a bit naïve at the time, but I was let onto Nicky Campbell’s show to say that – I think Nick Knowles was there too.

After making the point that, when I was born, BBC One’s single ident was a turning lime green globe on a blue background, I was thanked for my comments, and the show moved on. They did not discuss the ballet any further, my appearance having killed that conversation stone dead.

TV idents were borne of a time when you physically had to tune your TV to the correct channel, and even then, you were just as likely to have programmes introduced by someone appearing on screen to talk to you. BBC Two continues to show why logos and branding is important, as people are still enjoying watching their older “2” idents, made as early as 1991. Radio jingles fall into the same nostalgia, hoping you remember their frequency – all in the south of Hampshire sing with me now: “One-oh-three-point-two, Power-F-M!”

However, on digital TV, radio and online, where you can simply scan your receiver, and select your viewing from a list, idents are no longer needed – you are already where you need to be. You see more picture postcard-style idents, like those on ITV, and now BBC One, because they reflect their audience, and are easier, and cheaper, to produce.  In addition, getting audiences to programmes do not rely on individual channels so much, unless you count the BBC iPlayer or Netflix as a “channel.” For the BBC, Martin Parr’s new idents may be more important for the “BBC” on screen, rather than for the “One.”