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Saturday, February 17, 2007

I'm in love wiz zer veecar of deeblay

Perhaps I shouldn't admit to this but it is true! And I know that anytime very soon now my heart will be broken when the series is no more. Now let me explain. French television is, to be kind, rubbish. Yes yes there are occasional masterpieces of the televisual art to be devoured greedily like the tiny and rare truffles that they are but grosso modo there is little in the way of original programming and a typical evening will centre on either a light entertainment show when the same troupe of artistes appear to flog their latest product, or a light-hearted discussion show in which the audience sits around the celebrities (often artistes there to shamelessly flog their latest product) who are "in the round" and encouraged to give their thoughts and opinions which are eagerly lapped up by the adoring publique. This is the kind of show I have taken to referring to as the "let's all sit round and clap" approach to cheaply produced TV. Did I mention that invariably these shows are as close to interminable as can be? Actually they do run for anything up to 4 hours. Yes every soirée is a telethon in France.

So, thank goodness for Dibley, a little piece of English heaven served in appropriately sized portions and guaranteed to entertain. It is not nostalgia or even nostalgia by proxy. I have no wish to live in a small, incestuous village in middle England, but it has a gentle humour and is lightly played by a cast who rub along very nicely thankyou very much.

Of course it runs on a channel we have to pay for and is not dubbed but subtitled in French. It is almost impossible to ignore the text and we find ourselves both listening and reading, checking the translation.

Update: The radiators have arrived!!!! We are expecting them to be fitted on Monday followed by the solar panel. The suspense is almost unbearable. Meanwhile back at the window company the irritating person who manages the branch continues to take us for fools and lies to us as much as he tells the truth. Apparently the replacement windows(for the ones that were lost - though of course their (window) pain was equal to ours and it was as much as we could do not to rush over to Boulevard du President Hoover and console the delicate cherubs) have been available for days but he somehow only managed to get round to informing us today as he was awaiting a cheque from us for 4000€. Perhaps he had chosen to ignore Max who had told him in no uncertain terms that they would not get another centime from us till the windows were in and we were satisfied. I feel a strong letter to their parent company coming on.....

1 comment:

Clare said...

Ah Pierre, who needs television when you have such a saga of your own playing on. And on.
Bonne chance cheri.