Earlier, I added on here a rant at a television show to show you how to write one. Here is something that took me 15 minutes to type up, to show you the opposite, with a tinge of a moan at modern television and its makers.
Write about a television show you either love or loathe
I am in mourning today as I say a sad farewell to one of the most beautiful women in television history. When I was but a young pup of a lad, she was the one thing that brightened my week for me with that winning smile and her gorgeous hair. How she could keep that look going into the oncoming years was something that I have often wondered.
Who am I writing about, you are thinking, and what television show did she belong to? Well, I will answer the last question first. The name of the television show was The Champions and for the totally uninitiated, and shame on you for being so, it was a British espionage, sci-fi, cult television show of the late 1960s.
It was aired from 1968 to 1969 and in total, had 30 episodes to its belt. By today’s standards, that is not much when you think NCIS is now on its tenth series with twenty four episodes or so in each series, but this one show, The Champions, changed my life forever, for it introduced me to the sultry and stylish actress by the name of Alexandra Bastedo. She was and forever will be, my siren of the air waves, my champion of sixties fashion and looks, the epitome of everything female and lovely.
She made that show come alive every time she spoke, every time she shot a sideways glance, or even looked at the camera straight on and this heart melted on the spot. I was in love with two women at the same time; my primary school teacher Mrs Lawton and Alexandra Bastedo. No-one ever came close to matching either of them, so the ladies of form 5 had no chance. I was a lost in every way with this delightful lady.
And then there was the show itself. It was not just because of her that I was fascinated by The Champions, although that must have played a very large part. No, it was down to the story lines, the acting, the camera angles and the stories themselves, challenging us to think in new and scientific ways. Now, I think television is dire, a sorry and sad example of what has gone before it. Now we have to put up with talent shows from people who have no talent at all. If you want to see talent, get on youtube or on DVD and take a look at Ms Bastedo and The Champions. It is in a class all on its own.
With her co-stars Stuart Damon and William Gaunt, this was far in advance of anything I have ever seen before or since, and I am a Trekkie at heart, a fan of the Sci-fi, the thrillers, the supernatural films and the Hammer Horrors; the old ones, not the terrible things that exist nowadays and pay the wages of Harry Potter stars.
No, this television show had it all. It had beauty, it had style, it beat James Bond into a cocked hat and it was simply stunning to behold. I have always wanted to go to Geneva just to see that water fountain if it still exists, just to get a photo of me by the side of it, in true 60s pose. It is a pity I have the physique of the television thug rather than the suave style and shape of Messrs Damon and Gaunt, but I can dream. I can imagine my way onto the set and into the arms of Ms Bastedo, as I look longingly into those lovely eyes.
Ah well, true love never wanes I suppose, and so, I come back from my fantasies and back to the world of reality and to the television of today. And I wonder, will there ever be another television show like The Champions? Will they ever have the utmost nerve and temerity to try and do a remake? If they do, this boy is going to chain himself to the railings outside the BBC, or whichever channel does it, to complain at the antics of television producers who have run out of ideas.
You cannot make perfect that which is already, by definition, perfect. I think The Champions and Alexandra Bastedo are the epitome of that word and I say farewell my love, farewell and sleep in eternal arms, for you entertained us all and brightened our otherwise dull days by your very presence.