Baubles and Bells Watching Ourselves: 60 Years of TV in Scotland

We first got television in Scotland in 1952.

1952?! That's the year the Queen became, well, Queen,

Prime Minister Winston Churchill scrapped identity cards,

the first ever passenger jet flew across the Atlantic

and it was a leap year, which maybe explains why

Britain's only Olympic gold medal that year was in the showjumping.

Christmas and Hogmanay are the shining lights

in Scotland's winter gloom.

If they didn't exist, we'd have to invent them -

or at least the telly would.

At no other time of year does watching the box

play such a big part in how we celebrate.

Forget Reporting Scotland, this is real public service broadcasting.

I mean, how else would we know it was midnight?

Five, four, three, two...

Any second now.

A guid New Year to yin and a'!

BELL CHIMES

CHEERING AND APPLAUSE

Cheers(!)

These days we celebrate Christmas with as much joy as anyone,

but it hasn't always been this way.

There was a time when even Santa used to hang on till Hogmanay

to deliver his presents.

The reason?

These guys.

There was something about the coming together

of the words "Christ" and "Mass"

that didn't appeal to the Presbyterian Church,

and it wasn't until 1958 that the day became

an official Scottish holiday.

And, if you were lucky enough to own a TV,

this is probably what you'd have watched

beamed in from that den of iniquity, London.

Not that many of us were actually given the day off.

I remember when we came back to Edinburgh in '65,

the first season at the Lyceum, we had two shows on Christmas Day

and we had two children by that time,

and anybody with children brought them in between the shows,

and we had a wee party in the greenroom.

But two shows on Christmas Day, a matinee and an evening.

They're very nostalgic things, Christmas trees.

There's something about the smell of them

and the tinsel that takes you right back.

And, of course, it wouldn't be a Christmas tree

without a fairy on the top.

Christmas With The Stars was made by the BBC network.

It was an all-singing, all-dancing extravaganza.

This isn't exactly Toy Story

but, in its own way, it's every bit as magical.

As the BBC in London were creating the warm glow of Christmas,

Scottish churchmen were blowing a cold wind under the door.

I don't know where they stood on fairies

but they'd definitely got it in for Christmas trees.

'The last day of term.

'For most children, a time for Christmas celebrations,

'but not for these young pupils at Kiltearn Primary School.

'Their headmaster, a Free Presbyterian, doesn't recognise the festive season,

'and he's had a Christmas tree, put up by the parents,

'removed from the building.

'It's now been re-erected by them in a field next to the school.'

Ah, well, at least the repression gave our comedians

something to get their teeth into.

Ephesia and I have a marriage made in heaven.

Which is a pity -

if it had been made in Hong Kong, it may not have lasted so long!

CAROL SINGING

Just listen to that.

Does that just not sum up what Christmas is all about?

A few well-intentioned, charitable souls,

standing out there in the cold, singing their hearts out...

..while the rest of us sit warm and snug in our own wee houses...

..pretending we're not in.

The Christmas spirit doesn't come in shorter measure than this.

City Lights took a rather different approach

to matters of a spiritual nature.

Another year in here? I cannae face it.

This is spoof of the Hollywood Christmas classic

It's A Wonderful Life,

and it features the appearance of a very unusual

and very Scottish angel.

Sometimes I wish I hadnae bothered.

Sometimes I wish I'd never been born.

Oh, hey, hey, keys, wee man. You mustnae say things like that.

That kinda talk's no' allowed where I come fae, you know.

No? And where do you "come fae"?

Heaven.

It was funny doing such an iconic piece in a Scottish way

but it worked out to be a real darling of a thing.

I'm an angel.

LAUGHTER

Of course you are. Of course you are(!)

You just don't look like an angel. Where are your wings and things?

Well, actually I'm a GASC.

Glasgow Angel - Second Class.

We don't get the likes of wings and halos. Well, no' right away.

What DO you get?

A bus pass and a bunnet.

Scottish broadcasters have made several comedy specials over the years

but we've been more than happy to take our glitzy

Christmas variety shows from London,

even lending them the odd star in their tougher assignments.

Pate?

Don't mind if I do.

Hmm, a Christmas tree - I don't like the way this is shaping up.

Hello, how are you?

And a merry Christmas from the north of Scotland.

And when I say the north of Scotland, I mean the very north

of the north of Scotland, because I'm speaking to you from the RAF station

Saxa Vord, on the island of Unst.

The island of Unst is at the tip-top toe of the Shetland Islands.

Merry Christmas!

He must've been doing cartwheels when his agent got him THIS gig.

I've brought you all a beautiful present.

I knew that tree would be trouble.

Who said, "What for?"

Gentlemen, what would you rather I'd have brought you?

-ALL:

-Whisky!

Did somebody say whisky?!

Maybe it's because it's Andy Stewart,

or that it's a room full of men with a thirst for strong drink

but there's something about the mood here

that feels more like Hogmanay than Christmas.

One of the reasons we're happy to take our Christmas TV

from down south is because there's nothing particularly Scottish

about the way we celebrate it.

Not something you'll ever hear said about Hogmanay.

Forget St Andrews, this is our real national day.

And, as this scene from The Ship shows,

we're very particular about what's on the telly.

There's nothing on the TV - it's a' English!

LAUGHTER

CHEERING

Some variety show fae London, nothing to do with New Year.

There's they fiddlers fae Shetland on the BBC. I like them.

-How you no' watching it, then?

-It's no' worth it.

If I switch it on, all I get is Big Archie

telling me it's the wrong image of Scotland.

When I ask him what the RIGHT one is,

he says it's the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards playing Amazing Grace.

So, to avoid argument, I just came oot here with my advocaat!

'For Scotsmen, New Year is the festival of the year

'and thousands of them left London

'to spend Hogmanay in its natural setting, in Scotland.

'For some revellers, Hogmanay started at Euston Station yesterday.'

Hogmanay has always been a more adult celebration than Christmas

and, by "more adult" I mean, of course, more drunken.

One thing's for certain, these guys aren't heading back to Glasgow

for a cosy night in front of the telly.

So it's probably a good thing the first live street party

wasn't broadcast till 1957.

Then what did they do? They gave it to a Canadian to present.

Now, I'm a newcomer here, a Canadian.

A Canadian? Making a programme about Hogmanay?!

It's just so stupid(!)

Years ago, my many Scottish friends in Canada

gave me a very exciting picture of Hogmanay.

It's a time when hospitality knows no bounds.

Won't you join us? Here we go, as the saying goes,

for a wee keek at Glasgow Cross. Come in, Larry Marshall.

'They're all waiting for one thing and one thing only -

'that blessed release from 1957, into 1958.

-'Yes, there it is! And the year is 1958!'

-CHEERING

'Listen to the crowd going now. Look at that, isn't that wonderful?'

It's amazing the things they did to keep warm back in those days.

BBC Scotland's Hogmanay shows got off to a socially responsible start,

with presenter Roddy McMillan championing the merits

of lining your stomach.

Good evening, friends, and welcome.

You know, I've been promising my good friend Alec, here,

a good feed of salt herring and tatties for some time

and I've just got round to it.

Well, I got the tatties on and then my friends Anne Brand, Alec McEwan

and Bobby MacLeod happened to come in,

and, it being their first time here this year,

well, we had to give them a good welcome. That right, Alec?

So I'm afraid the herring will be a wee bit late.

Will you have patience, Alec?

Oh, well, since I've waited this long,

I can surely wait half an hour longer.

That's the stuff, Alec!

Huh, listen to Alec -

he's getting a free meal and he's still not happy.

Draw In Your Chair was based around the tradition of New Year guests

having to do a turn.

It's a format that would grow wings and fly like a grouse across the moors

in the BBC's long-running - and frequently shot at - White Heather Club.

# Come in, come in It's nice tae see you

# How's yoursel'? You're looking grand

# Tak' your ease We'll try to please you

# Man, you're welcome Here's my hand. #

CHEERING AND APPLAUSE

When I was a teenager I really hated all that tartan kind of stuff.

But, of course, now, you look back on it

and you realise that WAS a vital part of Scottish culture,

and a very vibrant part of Scottish culture.

HE CONTINUES: It's wonderful. Yeah, wonderful stuff.

Shows like the White Heather Club took the way we celebrated at home

and turned it into something we could watch on the box.

They cut out the drink, brought in the tartan,

beefed up The Bells and formalised the ceilidh.

PIPER PLAYS "Scotland The Brave"

The White Heather Club was a marriage of Highland and Lowland culture.

The close and the cludgie cooried up to the but'n'ben

and the Superscot was born.

Or, to put it more precisely, Andy Stewart.

Here's to it, here's to the fighting sheen of it,

here's to every thread of it, here's to the dark and green of it,

here's to the blue and red of it.

Foe men have sought for it, many have fought for it,

the fair have sighed for it, the brave have died for it.

Honour the name of it, drink to the fame of it.

And what is it? The tartan!

APPLAUSE AND CHEERING

Oh, I thought he was going to say Celtic and Rangers.

Och, it's a good job that's only orange juice!

Of course, Andy wasn't the only star in the tartan firmament.

# Far away and o'er the moor

# Far away and... #

All this traditional fare wasn't to everyone's taste,

but there's no denying the talent

and charisma of those involved.

# A wee cock sparra sat in a tree

# A wee cock sparra

# Sat in a tree

# A wee cock sparra sat in a tree

# Chirpin' awa' as blithe as could be. #

I miss Hogmanay.

I miss Duncan Macrae doing A Wee Cock Sparra.

Everybody of my age remembers that, of my generation.

Everybody LOVED that, just loved it.

At the time, we were out of our chairs, on the floor.

It was brilliant.

It wasn't just the song, I think, that everybody remembers,

it was the way Duncan Macrae did it.

# The man hit the boy though he wisnae his farra

# The man hit the boy though he wisnae his farra

# The man hit the boy though he wisnae his farra

# And the boy stood and glowered He was hurt to the marra. #

# And a' this time the wee cock sparra

# Was chirping awa' on the shaft o' the barra. #

Doesn't get that much better than that, does it?

My own favourite Hogmanay turn comes from a man who made

more records than The Beatles AND Elvis Presley put together.

He also had a passenger train named after him

and was a favourite of this woman.

And this one.

Not bad for a guy who failed his first BBC audition

because he kept time with his foot. I am, of course, talking about the legendary Jimmy Shand,

the man who put the "ban" in between-song banter.

-Well, James, how are you now?

-Fine.

-I've been working it out in my mind.

A dance is a jig,

but a jigger's not always a dancer.

A good dancer would never give you a kick, but a good jigger might.

All this double talk's got me jiggered.

Here, then, we have a J-I-G, a jig.

Take your partners for Hamilton House.

There was a warmth of Jimmy Shand,

although to say Jimmy Shand exuded warmth is a bit of a stretch,

although he was a very warm and laughing man.

But he stood with his accordion like he was at a Masonic meeting,

with his tartan jacket

and his wee accordion. He was a genius of the squeeze box.

I always used to love it when he was on the Hogmanay show.

To me, he was full of life,

because I was listening to his music.

To everybody else, he was a miserable bugger!

He never smiled. He stood stock still,

but it was his music for me was just...

It filled me with great...great joy.

But I miss that. And I was part of the attack on that shortbread tin...

As a matter of fact, that was my expression,

"the singing shortbread tins".

By 1968, The White Heather Club had run its course,

but that didn't stop the format it established digging in its heels

and burling its way into the '80s.

# Tak' yer ease We'll try and please ye... #

This might be the most concentrated amount of Scottishness

in any one place, ever.

# In the land called Caledonia... #

Bill McCue's timing here is pure Andy Stewart.

# To express your feelings freely... #

The thing about my father really was that if he was standing up

in front of people, in whatever role,

er, he was happy.

And he loved being on the telly

and he loved the telly programmes at Hogmanay and the other series that he did.

The tartan stuff, for my father, was not about kitsch

and was not about reducing the quality of the product, at all.

In fact, it was always used as an open door

and as something that he wore as a big statement of his passion

for where he came from.

A good New Year!

ALL: Happy New Year!

With the BBC's coverage in a state of suspended animation,

it was up to STV to inject new life into proceedings.

The rivalry between the two channels always reached its peak at Hogmanay,

when they engaged in a ding-dong battle of the bells,

to see who could pull in the most viewers.

Now, all's fair in war, but if you ask me,

sometimes STV took things too far.

Way too far.

It's show time.

Hi. Welcome to our New Year's Eve celebrations.

Oh, my name's Ian Ogilvy

and having just a little bit of Scottish blood in me,

nothing, but nothing, would keep me away from this party

to welcome in the New Year...

Smooth. Shame he's got to use the back door, though.

# Yeah, things are gonna go my way... #

This went out on the ITV network and, as the show's title suggests,

it's very much a case of out with the old and in with the new.

Look at how they celebrate the run-up to the bells.

They didn't LEARN these moves from the White Heather Club.

# Who can say just what might happen? #

# Let's go to the disco... #

We're now well into the '80s, and STV are single-handedly

keeping disco alive.

Their shows from this time didn't take themselves too seriously,

but it was all good, clean fun.

That was a track from Russ's last album.

At least, we all hope it's his last album.

And that will be released at the same time as Rudolf Hess. Now...

LAUGHTER Oh, that's wicked. A nice audience here tonight.

Behave yourselves or we'll bring on Sydney Devine early.

It became a new tradition to take the mickey out of the shows

as you were making them. Here's Russ Abbott again, making the most

of his ginger gene.

His dancing might be out, but his comic timing's spot on here.

RUSS COUGHS AND SPLUTTERS

Oh, that was beautiful.

There's a long tradition of people playing the drunk

on our Hogmanay shows, but they're usually drinking this stuff.

In 1984, the BBC decided to go one better

and let people do it for real. Never really a good idea on live telly.

-BELL CHIMES

-This is Gleneagles Hotel

and these aren't TV extras, but real-life champagne-quaffing guests.

One of my friends, he had taken a table that night and suddenly, he'd said,

"We had all these technicians pushing us out the road

"and dragging cables under their table and all that."

He said, "We were very resentful."

Now, to give the BBC their due,

this is more like the way we behave at home than the White Heather Club.

There were people there - quite sort of posh people, well-off people -

who had booked a New Year's Eve dinner there and when they booked it,

nobody said, "Oh, by the way, there's going to be a whole camera crew

and we're taking over the hotel and recording this show.

So their dinner had been ruined.

I always remember dear old Chic Murray saying,

"What the hell's going on here? What's going on?" Ha!

The stage is now set

for one of the greatest entrances in the history of showbiz.

Chic Murray, if you're up there watching, I'm sorry.

Utter chaos.

Yes, I'm over there.

I'm in the tall grass. I didn't see you there. Yes.

I've got to give this away first.

I can't... I can't... There's no cameras on me.

At this point, everyone just seems to have given up

on the idea of making a TV programme altogether.

And when I say "everyone", I mean, everyone.

By the early '90s, STV and the BBC had been trading Hogmanay punches

for more than 30 years

and STV couldn't resist a playful little jab below the belt.

And who can blame them?

And 100,000 welcomes or, as we say up here in Glencampbelly,

Ceud mile failte. We're coming to you live...

A live show with in-built technical hitches. I wonder where this idea came from?

What if we kind of show it as the disaster from the hotel?

It was a bit of a piss-take, really,

of that BBC Hogmanay show, that legendary BBC Hogmanay show.

'I just took everything I heard about that show and turned it into mine.'

Great stuff, lads! Right, er, what's happening next?

Anybody got any idea?

This was one of three shows written by Alex Norton.

It poked fun at the format, while showcasing the talents

of STV's roster of stars.

From here, it's only a short step to full-on satire.

Step forward, Rikki Fulton.

-Stop the countdown, Jim!

-5...4...

-Thousands of innocent people could suffer!

-3...2...1...

Cue announcer!

'Now we go over to Aberdeen and The Hogmanay Show.'

LAUGHTER

And it was almost as if Hogmanay wasn't Hogmanay

unless you had Scotch And Wry. People just

expected it. That meant that Ricky

could explore all the different facets of the Scottish persona.

There's something about Rikki Fulton's maudlin sense of humour

that chimes perfectly with this time of year.

And check out a young Gregor Fisher, as the lily-livered sidekick.

Thank you, thank you.

Now, we'd like to begin with a song we've composed

about the Glencoe Massacre.

It was a brutal time, when brother butchered brother,

when men hacked bits off other men.

When soldiers with dirty great long swords

disembowelled other soldiers with swords that wurnae quite as long.

It was a time when rivers ran with blood

and oozing entrails stained the heather.

The chorus we've written goes,

"They grabbed his heid and severed it and then ripped oot his tongue.

"It wriggled like a jellied eel on the grund where it was flung.

"They beat his brains to a throbbing mush and slashed his guts asunder

"and cut his hert oot wi' a dirk,

"and he died, nae bloody wonder."

In 1999, the big boys came and stole New Year away from us.

Suddenly, every country on the planet was vying to see who could

throw the biggest party and there was no way the BBC high heid yins

in London were going to let Scotland host the coverage. They even took Jackie Bird

and banished her to the furthest corner of the kingdom.

At least they didn't make her carry a Christmas tree.

Yep, we're back in Unst.

I think what we're going to do is go straight over now to the Shetlands

and Jackie Bird. As you just mentioned, Peter,

it's just moments away, sunset. Jackie.

WIND WHIPS

Well, I'm afraid there's not much to see here. It is only the edge

of Britain, but right at this moment,

it feels like the end of the world.

I'm at the RAF radar base on the island of Unst,

at the very tip of Britain...

If you'd rather not know how Jackie managed to stay on her feet, look away now.

Ha! It's amazing the support you get when you're working for the network.

And this is also - if I can stay upright for long enough - a maritime crossroads, where the Atlantic

meets the North Sea and, if you go over there, far enough,

and hop over Greenland, you will eventually reach Canada.

Canada?

Argh!

In the run-up to the Millennium, there were dire predictions

of computer meltdown and global Armageddon.

These things did not come to pass, but when the world's back was turned

there were dark forces at work in Scotland,

or to be more precise, Glendarroch, where the makers of the much-loved

High Road decided it was time to mess with their characters' heads.

That's weird.

I've been looking all over the place for you.

This is quite possibly the weirdest thing that has ever happened

in the history of Scottish broadcasting. Nothing in this couthie soap's 20-year life

prepared us for scenes like these.

SHE SCREAMS

-Back, all of you!

-What is that?

She's mine!

So, finally caught up with you!

This is like The Wicker Man meets The Blair Witch Project

on the set of Rentaghost.

I'm not going to try to begin to make sense of what's going on here,

but I believe the young man

with the Christmas bauble coming out of his chest is Ewan the Postie.

I was on the set

and somebody said, "Right, this is where the entity comes in."

And I said, "Sorry, the what?"

"The entity. You see the entity."

And I said, "What's an entity, what do you mean?"

"Oh, it's all right, we'll put it on afterwards."

And I said, "Yes, but I have to know what I'm looking at."

"It'll be up in that corner," they said. "And you're frightened."

'So I played a whole scene - I come out in a cold sweat

'just thinking about it - I played a whole scene going,'

"Argh! Argh!"

DEMONIC LAUGHTER

'And then when I saw it,'

it was a tiny little... a tiny little whirl of lights

that I would hardly have noticed,

so that was the Millennium episode for me,

thank you very much, whoever's idea that was.

Two hour-long Millennium specials sneaked out, one before the bells

and one on New Year's Day. And no-one seemed to take any notice.

Did they happen at all? Were they all a dream?

I mean, there's so much great stuff

from these two shows that I'd love to show you,

but I've limited myself to my top three moments.

Argh! Get that thing away from me!

Number one, Davie Sneddon goes to Hell.

Why are YOU here?

You are here for the same reason everyone comes here.

You have never loved another human being.

I like that in a man.

Two, Mrs Mack lets her hair down.

Yeah, that's her belly dancing.

Three, Davie Sneddon goes to Heaven.

# ..With the sun

# And I will love thee still... #

The world survived into the 21st century,

but the High Road, sadly, did not.

When rogue developers turned Glendarroch into a swanky marina,

they removed the last trace of shortbread-tin Scotland

from the TV schedules.

Our Hogmanay shows, too, have moved with the times

and no longer feel the need to wear their tartan on their sleeves.

Or anywhere else, for that matter.

We've even found someone to sit in for Jimmy Shand.

The audience expect different things now.

Some people don't like traditional music,

they prefer contemporary music,

so why should they be left out of the Hogmanay celebration?

So there you have it - Hogmanay TV.

A wee bit shonky here and there.

And there.

And there, again.

But that doesn't matter.

These programmes weren't made to stand the test of time.

They were made to celebrate the moment and to give those of us

who see in the New Year at home

the chance to feel as if we're part of something bigger.

Lang may their lums reek

and lang may their accordions creak!

SCOTTISH REEL MUSIC PLAYS

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd

A Happy New Year to all my friends, wherever they may be.