'3-2-1' is one of television's greatest enigmas. Though it ended two decades ago, even now I wonder from time-to-time: "Why?".
Made by Yorkshire Television, it consisted basically of various formats bolted together; game show, variety show, children's show ( Dusty Bin ), all linked by a finger-twisting Ted Rogers. Poor Ted. Having made a name for himself on programmes such as 'Jokers Wild' as a quick-witted comic, he then had the misfortune to find himself in this slop ( he later admitted that the early editions made him cringe ). Ditto Fiona Curzon, who prior to becoming a '3-2-1' beauty had appeared in Granada's popular I.T.V. thriller show 'The X-Y-Y Man'. And what of poor Caroline Munro, a one-time Hammer Horror starlet who had been in Bond and Sinbad movies, reduced to playing second fiddle to a dustbin?
Originating from Spain ( Margaret Forwood of The Sun said 'it was the most undesirable thing to come out of that country since bullfighting' ), it ran for nearly a decade. So someone must have liked it. What was its appeal? Well, it had razzmatazzz by the bucketload ( Johnny Pearson's theme was the most bombastic ever written for the box ), glamour ( a gang of Continental beauties called 'The Gentle Secs', one of whom - Mireille Allonville - had appeared in soft porn films ), intrigue ( those cryptic clues would have baffled Sherlock Holmes ), and the ever present threat of 'Dusty Bin'. Initially, the bin was inert, but then they made him move. The sight of a grinning bin gliding across the floor of the studio sent a collective shiver up the spines of the nation. 'Dr.Who' could not have done it better. One or two poor souls won it from time to time, and to compound their humiliation Ted then asked them to smile and wave at the camera.
The worst thing about the show were the sketches, many of which seemed to have been originally written for 'Crackerjack'. Some nights the cast looked genuinely embarrassed at having to perform them.
The first episode had as a contestant a pre-Radio 1 Janice Long, who curiously neglected to mention that she was Keith Chegwin's sister ( this was years before 'Naked Jungle' ). The early shows featured Mike Newman, Chris Emmett, and Debbie Arnold making lame quips inbetween the questions. Emmett wheeled out his impression of then-Labour Prime Minister Jim Callaghan practically every week, but when Margaret Thatcher moved into 10, Downing Street, political humour suddenly became noticeably absent.
The show carried the credit: 'Production Associate Michael Sullivan'. The late Mr.Sullivan was a top showbiz agent, meaning that a lot of the '3-2-1' guest-stars came straight off his books.
A young Mark Heap appeared in one edition ( I'm sure he's proud to have it on his C.V. ).
Easy to be cynical now, but '3-2-1' was huge in its day. They could not get away with it today though. Could they?
Made by Yorkshire Television, it consisted basically of various formats bolted together; game show, variety show, children's show ( Dusty Bin ), all linked by a finger-twisting Ted Rogers. Poor Ted. Having made a name for himself on programmes such as 'Jokers Wild' as a quick-witted comic, he then had the misfortune to find himself in this slop ( he later admitted that the early editions made him cringe ). Ditto Fiona Curzon, who prior to becoming a '3-2-1' beauty had appeared in Granada's popular I.T.V. thriller show 'The X-Y-Y Man'. And what of poor Caroline Munro, a one-time Hammer Horror starlet who had been in Bond and Sinbad movies, reduced to playing second fiddle to a dustbin?
Originating from Spain ( Margaret Forwood of The Sun said 'it was the most undesirable thing to come out of that country since bullfighting' ), it ran for nearly a decade. So someone must have liked it. What was its appeal? Well, it had razzmatazzz by the bucketload ( Johnny Pearson's theme was the most bombastic ever written for the box ), glamour ( a gang of Continental beauties called 'The Gentle Secs', one of whom - Mireille Allonville - had appeared in soft porn films ), intrigue ( those cryptic clues would have baffled Sherlock Holmes ), and the ever present threat of 'Dusty Bin'. Initially, the bin was inert, but then they made him move. The sight of a grinning bin gliding across the floor of the studio sent a collective shiver up the spines of the nation. 'Dr.Who' could not have done it better. One or two poor souls won it from time to time, and to compound their humiliation Ted then asked them to smile and wave at the camera.
The worst thing about the show were the sketches, many of which seemed to have been originally written for 'Crackerjack'. Some nights the cast looked genuinely embarrassed at having to perform them.
The first episode had as a contestant a pre-Radio 1 Janice Long, who curiously neglected to mention that she was Keith Chegwin's sister ( this was years before 'Naked Jungle' ). The early shows featured Mike Newman, Chris Emmett, and Debbie Arnold making lame quips inbetween the questions. Emmett wheeled out his impression of then-Labour Prime Minister Jim Callaghan practically every week, but when Margaret Thatcher moved into 10, Downing Street, political humour suddenly became noticeably absent.
The show carried the credit: 'Production Associate Michael Sullivan'. The late Mr.Sullivan was a top showbiz agent, meaning that a lot of the '3-2-1' guest-stars came straight off his books.
A young Mark Heap appeared in one edition ( I'm sure he's proud to have it on his C.V. ).
Easy to be cynical now, but '3-2-1' was huge in its day. They could not get away with it today though. Could they?