Lord Mountbatten was born in the first year of the century and had taken part in the pageant of history, with a seat in the Royal Box. Always attracted by the visual arts and a pioneer in the use of the motion picture for the training and entertainment of the Royal Navy, he had turned down all the offers to publish his written autobiography. It was typical of Mountbatten to choose the most up-to-date of all media, television, as his means of personal communication. His agreement with Rediffusion was that he would make himself available, together with his rare collection of diaries, letters, photographs, films and memories, to record his life on camera. In return he would possess the overseas rights of the resulting programmes, for the benefit of his Broadlands estate. Rediffusion assigned to him their distinguished documentary producer, Peter Morley, and for three years these two men worked together, with increasing understanding. Lord Mountbatten has admitted the early attempts to interview him on film were disappointing, but inexorably he mastered the technique and became an accomplished professional broadcaster.

I believe the original concept was a series of twenty-six half-hour programmes, although no networking arrangement with the other companies had been negotiated. During lengthy screening sessions Brian Tesler and I reviewed the results with Peter Morley; in ‘rough cut’ we looked at hours of library material, mostly in black and white, with new material filmed in colour of Lord Mountbatten returning to his scenes of glory.

Our decision was to make this the show piece for Thames. We took the bold course and decided to make twelve one-hour episodes, transmitted at the peak time of nine o’clock, though we had no illusion that any of the other stations would be likely to follow our example.

All this we explained to Lord Mountbatten and his film producer son-in-law Lord Brabourne, a joint ally valuable to both of us. I remember how Lord Mountbatten came down to our riverside Teddington studios to get to know us better. After luncheon aboard our ‘retired’ boat, the m.v. Iris, a survivor of Dunkirk, we went on a tour of the premises. On the nearby car park the Drama Department were recording a section of Frontier, where a firing squad in British Army uniforms was lined up to execute an Indian spy. As we were walking towards them the production halted and out of habit Lord Mountbatten ‘inspected’ the shooting squad. They must have looked a motley lot, actors in uniforms hired from Berman’s. There was only one real soldier around, a regimental sergeant major seconded from Aldershot to act as military adviser and obviously enjoying a few leisurely days at Teddington supervising an Equity squad and drilling them for the sequence. His embarrassment can be imagined when the raggle-taggle of actors suddenly found themselves being inspected by the Supremo himself! The RSM’s face was red as Lord Mountbatten gave him a curt nod. Inside, a prison play was in production. Lord Mountbatten was impressed with the dress rehearsal of a scene where the prisoner was taken from the condemned cell to face the Governor in his office. The reproduction was accurate, as Lord Mountbatten knew from his recent survey of prisons and subsequent report to the Government on the subject. He smilingly congratulated me afterwards on the excellent organisation of having troops on parade and a prison play laid on for him!

This was a pleasant interlude away from the attrition which had broken out in the ITCA headquarters where the new “Big Five’ were now meeting to plan the first season’s programmes of the new phase of ITV. Interesting new characters had arrived upon the familiar scene, as the principals turned up with their adherents. The infiltration of the new had begun.

One familiar face was missing. Rediffusion’s former protagonist, John McMillan, had been submerged in the blending of ABC and Rediffusion. Cecil Bernstein, Lew Grade and I had agreed that John McMillan’s knowledge and experience should not disappear from ITV, and we lost no time in creating for him a new job in the industry, as Director of Sport. Such an appointment was not welcomed by the incoming London Weekend Television who were now to be responsible for Saturday sport and wanted to take over ABC’s World of Sport.

At the programme planning meetings the old guard was much in evidence; Cecil Bernstein, with another Granada pioneer, Denis Forman; Lew Grade, with his latest number two, Robin Gill, a pressurising young man with ambitions to succeed even Lew Grade himself; Brian Tesler and I, who had now moved up the ladder from the week-ends and provinces to London. The new companies were represented by Yorkshire’s Ward Thomas and Donald Baverstock, and London Weekend’s buoyant team of Michael Peacock and Tom Margerison, both eager to teach new tricks to old masters.

The situation was clearly defined. In the assessment of the Authority, four companies had equal strength and opportunity, with practically the same potential advertisement revenue and the same potential profit, £3,000,000. Yorkshire came fifth in size and revenue, but with their fair share of networked programming guaranteed by the Authority.

Lew Grade had been swayed by Robin Gill’s financial calculations to concentrate on the Midlands contract, but now he was without his foothold in London and was one more regional contractor. As a former tenant of the London Weekend preserve he was also smarting under the deprecatory comments Michael Peacock continued to make to the press about ATV’s shortcomings, and his promises of more uplifting programmes at week-ends. Surrounded by his shining knights from the BBC, he believed implicitly in what London Weekend’s colourful application for the franchise had set forth. Now he was determined to prove his words and to revitalise the week-end’s television.

Granada had been little disturbed by the changes, except that they now faced the problem of contributing from Lancashire their quota of Saturday and Sunday programmes on a reduced income. Yorkshire had its own task of starting off with new staff and without any programmes in reserve. They would have to originate fewer programmes than the other four, but correspondingly they had to network more than anyone else and therefore their ratings depended upon whatever new programmes were available for them. The programme output of Granada, ATV and Thames was predictable, but after the shouting had died down would LWT be capable of supplying an effective Saturday-Sunday output?

Even when the interchange of programmes was agreed payments would still have to be arranged between the five companies; a new system had to be devised. An immediate issue was that if LWT were to be given absolute control of Saturday afternoon sport why was the budget for World of Sport so suddenly inflated? What percentage of Midland, Lancashire and Yorkshire sports contributions would be included in the reconstructed programme?

Peacock and Tom Margerison faced up to this with apparent equanimity but when they returned to their office in Burlington Street there must have been some puzzled consultations with their colleagues. BBC-trained executives were used to competing in a gentlemanly way for allocations of the overall budget and once the figures were settled they simply ordered programmes from the appropriate departments. They had merely to ask for fifty hours of drama, sixty hours from Light Entertainment, and so on, then await the detailed proposals. ITV programme controllers had to go back to their studios and then make their own programmes. At LWT there was little understanding of the intricacies of ITV programme finance and the proper division of costs. Nor was the scheduling, planned with the other four major companies, the final stage; there still remained the ten regional companies to be convinced of the workability of the schedules.

The final judgement, though, would come from the public, and there was a wide difference between the time-honoured BBC policy of giving the public what was good for them, and the ITV attitude of trying to offer the public what they would like to view. If the public did not respond to whatever was new and revolutionary in the LWT week-end schedule then the advertisers, an ultra-conservative group, would probably sit back and wait until the required audience was assembled, just as they had done in the early and desperate days of ITV.

It was in this uneasy and uncertain mood that ITV was relaunched in its new career in August 1967. Many tried and favourite programmes had been thrown out of the new schedule. Unknown and unresearched programmes were being tendered by three new companies; a percentage of failure was inevitable. Unfortunately, too, a new method of audience research was being introduced. TAM Rating (Television Audience Measurement) was another of the casualties of the era of change, to be replaced by Audits of Great Britain’s new system (“son of Tam’ some called it). The new means of audience appraisal had the backing of the Joint Industry Committee for Television Advertising Research (JICTAR) and therefore was financed collectively by advertisers, agencies and the programme companies. It was an improved system but two years would go by before its new standards of measurement would be understood and accepted.

Meanwhile, according to the first JICTAR figures the audience for ITV had shrunk alarmingly, almost overnight.

The post Mountbatten’s ratings appeared first on THIS IS THAMES from Transdiffusion.

My other objective was of course to break down those barriers created by any merger when it brings together executives from rival companies of totally different philosophies. This was only the beginning of a long and tortuous process, for the loyalties of Rediffusion staff were deep and it took several years to overcome their natural resentment of ABC control being forced upon them. I knew that total integration of the two companies could only be attained by joint achievements, when everyone would be proud to work under the banner of the new company, Thames. Therefore this was a further inducement (if any were needed) for Thames to emerge as the leader in current affairs and informational programmes, in addition to its acknowledged strength in entertainment and drama.

The highspot, I decided, would be The Life and Times of Lord Mountbatten which had been a Rediffusion creation. Once having decided to play this as a trump card and break away from the ITV network practice of putting on documentary series at off-peak time I tried to induce ATV, Granada and Yorkshire to follow Thames’ lead and run the series at 9 p.m. This proposal was gently supported by the Authority (although not made a ‘requirement’) but it was not found acceptable, and others slotted the programmes for 10.30 p.m. directly after News at Ten, athough eventually one or two of the regions did follow our lead.

In a despairing effort to coax the two most powerful executives, Cedi Bernstein and Lew Grade, into nine o’clock networking with us I harnessed the driving force of the dauntless Lord Mountbatten. During one of the social events we cornered Lew and Cecil, and Lord Mountbatten went straight into the attack. Lew was immovable: ‘Howard must be mad, putting on your programme against the BBC at nine! That’s when the BBC put on all those sexy plays with bad language. You’ll get slaughtered. Now when I put on the programmes, after the news at 10.30, there’ll be no opposition.’ (No opposition, I thought, only football matches and feature films.) Lord Mountbatten did not withdraw from his attack until Lew Grade told him: ‘I guarantee, Lord Mountbatten, that ATV will get better ratings than Thames. In fact, I’m so sure I’ll bet on it. If Thames get higher ratings than ATV I’ll pay you five hundred pounds.’ In fact, Thames did achieve higher ratings at 9 p.m. than ATV at 10.30 p.m. and I reminded Lew Grade of this bet. ‘I know, I’ve already sent Mountbatten my cheque.’ He lit a new cigar and added ‘Cheap at the price, wasn’t it?’

Thus when Thames next offered a series of equal importance – The World at War – the companies all agreed to follow our lead and network this at 9 p.m. The programmes were rarely out of the top ten. For once, we did bring out the brass band to launch The Life and Times of Lord Mountbatten with a flourish of trumpets and drums, for this series clearly had the stamp of success. We decided to have three ‘premieres’ at the Imperial War Museum, which had been such a valuable source of material for us. The first showing was for Lord Mountbatten’s military colleagues, the other for the Queen and her family, and the third for the press. The premiere for Her Majesty was probably more royal than any previous occasion, attracting the entire royal family with the exception of the Duke of Gloucester who was ill.

I found with Lord Mountbatten that in spite of his forceful personality he was susceptible to reasoned resistance, and there were several occasions when he gave in to determined argument. Our opinions differed about the values of various episodes depicting his career. For the press screening he wanted to show the episode he had selected for the Queen, his magnificent days in India. I agreed that nothing could be better for the Royal screening but it was not the right episode for the press. I wanted the second of the series, The Kings Depart, which told the story of his marriage to Edwina Ashley and their honeymoon in Hollywood, where they had made a picture which was preserved in his astonishing collection of Mountbatten films. The honeymooners had stayed at the home of Douglas Fairbanks and Mary Pickford and taken part in a film Nice and Friendly, with Charlie Chaplin and the ‘Kid’, Jackie Coogan. It was funny and touching and was inevitably a hit with the newspaper men. Lord Mountbatten agreed afterwards that it was the correct decision. Our sales organisation went on to distribute the series on behalf of his Trust throughout the world.

For the first time we were able to break into French television. Only Mountbatten could have gone direct to De Gaulle to have the series shown in France. He then proceeded to re-record the commentaries in French, and indefatigably went through the same process to record a German version when German television also took the programmes. Our only failure was in the United States, where in spite of all the pressures and efforts the networks once again refused to find time for a series of British documentaries. Lord Mountbatten had Henry Ford as his house guest at Broadlands, for what I anticipated would be the most expensive outing of Mr Ford’s life, to sponsor the series in America. Although Mr Ford was willing, the American network concerned would not accept the programmes because they thought it would be disadvantageous to their ratings.

This series helped to consolidate the network, as well as Thames. Weekdays were now firmly established, partly because of the variable performance of the week-end schedules. The unpredictability and unreliability of Friday evening and week-end programmes disturbed the advertisers, who always wanted to be sure that their commercials would reach a known and countable audience. This could be guaranteed only on weekday television.

Thames could now claim leadership of the network, for the most effective programmes were concentrated from Monday to Thursday, based on Thames’ formula of the best of ABC and Rediffusion, plus new programmes, reinforced by the cream of the output of the three major regional companies. All this we celebrated at our first staff dance in January 1969, symbolising the union of the two companies. We had to take the huge Lyceum ballroom in the Strand to accommodate the staff of 1,600 plus their wives, husbands and friends, jubilant and secure after two years of doubts and hazards. All this gave me some satisfaction – not least that after twelve years of journeying from London to Manchester and Birmingham it was a joy to have my travels limited to Teddington.

Thames had moved into its new building on the Euston Road, which had been designed for the next phase of television, and we went forward with confidence into the world of colour. Now we set ourselves new sights with large-scale programmes which would take two or three years to mature.

Yet all was not well in the pastures of Golden Square. For years there had been trepidation about the inevitable sale of Warner Brothers’ share interest in ABPC; with Jack Warner’s advancing years speculation and rumour had opened up all sorts of possibilities. Then came a stranger at the door. At the end of January 1968 Electric & Musical Industries Ltd, had informed the Associated British Picture Corporation that they had agreed to purchase from Warner Brothers four million Ordinary Stock Units and thus acquired twenty-five per cent of the issued Ordinary Capital of the Corporation. Sir Philip Warter announced that the two companies had agreed to co-operate in the ‘full development of their combined resources in the field of entertainment at home and overseas. To this end the Board of the Corporation has invited EMI to nominate two directors for the Board of the Corporation.’ The two directors were John Read and Bernard Delfont.

Now the solid Associated British Picture Corporation began to feel the tremors of changes ahead. But Thames Television was consolidating its position in the television industry.

The post Consolidations appeared first on THIS IS THAMES from Transdiffusion.