Paw Patrol

Channel: Channel 5/ Nickelodeon

Running Time: 12 mins

Date: 2013 - present

Start with the toy, and work backwards to get a TV show

Premise: A ten-year old boy has somehow been put in charge of a municipal emergency services operation, and his employees work for dog biscuits (and a company vehicle). Every episode, a minor or major catastrophe (“no job’s too big, no pup’s too small!” as the theme tune has it) occurs, and the pups save the day. Eerily, this it is the kind of setup that you could imagine ham-faced coward (and former Prime Minister) David Cameron advocating as part of his ‘Big Society’ brainwave, where public services are underfunded to the extent that a primary school kid and some pre-pubescent canines have replaced the police, fire and ambulance service.  

The ten year old is Ryder, and his pups are Marshall, Rocky, Zuma, Chase, Rubble, and Skye (named after the island off the coast of Scotland, which is where you’ll want to run away to each time your little one asks to watch Paw Patrol). Each pup has a specialised vehicle and modus operandi, for example, Chase has the characteristics of a police dog, Marshall is a firedog and medic, and Skye is in charge of flying in a pink helicopter and giggling, because gender stereotypes. Rocky appears to have drawn the short straw - like the kid whose superpower was ‘heart’ in Captain Planet - and is in charge of ‘recycling’, which I’m all for, but maybe not as part of the emergency services. Then again, looking at the state of the oceans, perhaps it should be.

Each time there is a crisis, Ryder gets a video call on his phablet, summons the pups to headquarters, and outlines the situation to them, with the same kind of flat, monotonous tone that Britain has become used to with Theresa May’s takeover from Ham Man. Then the pups slide down into their individualised vehicles, which have been designed expertly to sell toys deal with various emergencies, and off they go. Imagine Thunderbirds, but designed for an era where two-year olds are routinely having decayed teeth removed under surgery, children can’t grip pens properly because their hands don’t have the strength to do anything other than tap touchscreens, and OH GOD JUST MAKE IT ALL STOP.

Background: In the past, TV shows such as Thunderbirds, or films like Toy Story made a huge amount of money from merchandising. And that’s OK, given that it rarely compromised the integrity of the stories themselves. Well, it’s time to give capitalism another big pat on the back, as Paw Patrol sees this concept work in reverse. The Canadian toy and entertainment company Spin Master had a prototype transforming toy that they wanted to make some more Canadian dollars out of, and other currencies as well, ideally. They approached the British producer Keith Chapman (Bob the Builder) and asked him to invent a franchise out of this toy. And thus, from one of Chapman’s concepts, Paw Patrol was developed by toy designers (do you spot the theme emerging?)

WHY IS SHE NOT WEARING A HELMET?

Nickelodeon announced it had picked up the franchise at the 2013 Licensing Expo in Las Vegas; the words ‘franchise’, ‘Las Vegas’ and ‘Nickelodeon’ being three of the worst things ever to be associated with children’s television, or humanity in general.

But wait! Here’s a line from a 2016 interview with Ben Gadbois, global president of Spin Master, which will curdle your very soul: “We’re continuing to invest in keeping the Paw Patrol content fresh, with new characters and themes in order to increase the longevity of the franchise.”

The tenth circle of hell that Dante didn't have time to include

It is hard to like Paw Patrol; it is harder to like it when you learn that essentially it is designed explicitly to sell toys as its primary function, rather than a happy sideline. Canada has given the world a lot of wonderful people - Mike Myers, Michael J. Fox, and Ellen Page among them - but Paw Patrol very much has to sit in the same row as Bryan Adams and Celine Dion.

Canada: Not as innocent as it seems

Entertainment: There is a huge amount to dislike, from the beginning title sequence to the end credit sequence, to the moment you realise you’ve had the theme tune in your head all week. The animation is sickly-smooth, but lacking any real heart; it resembles the graphics on a bad smartphone game, and leaves you contemplating the futility of existence in much the same way. Animation can thrive on its complexity (Wallace and Gromit) or its simplicity (Hey Duggee!) and Paw Patrol fits neither category.

The voice acting is dubbed for British audiences, and although it might be a cheap shot to have a go at child actors, it must be said that there is a woodenness to the delivery, extremely ironic given the amount of plastic that will be going into all those toys. The scripts mirror the animation in that they too sorely lack any heart - no one individual at any level really seems to ‘own’ Paw Patrol in the way that the Andersons did with Thunderbirds, so no-one cares that everything is geared towards shifting units at the expense of literally everything else.

In terms of plot lines, early episodes deal with stock animal rescue scenarios usually seen in Octonauts - saving a beached whale, saving some turtles, etc, quickly followed by the extraordinarily contrived - the pups fix a train line so a new version of a computer dance game will get through on time. Season Two sees the exact storyline pitched by the LA pigeons in Bolt - “aliens!” which should have pointed to the shark very much being jumped, and by season 4 we have occasional character Tracker dreaming that the rival mayor to Adventure Bay’s Mayor Goodway (keep up) has become a baby; I have not been able to clarify if David Lynch was guest director on that one.

The most worrying thing about this all is that children absolutely adore it. My own two-year old, otherwise a highly intelligent child, not only requests it with the kind of euphoric glee I reserve for a night in with a tub of hummus and a big bag of Kettle Chips, but requests the same three episodes over and over again. Today he hid in a box and said he was talking to Marshall. Somehow some Paw Patrol pants have worked their way into his chest of drawers. It’s like the film The Blob, only the Blob was supposedly a metaphor for communism, whilst Paw Patrol is being smacked over and over again in the face by rampant consumerism, if rampant consumerism came in the shape of a baseball bat with nails driven through. Which it does.

Paw Patrol is taking over your house; you'll wish you were as happy as that woman.

Ratings:

Sex: Although extensive breeding processes must have taken place in order to get to this stage, no obvious romantic sub-plots are evident. Ryder has a friend called Katie, who, as another ten year old, has been deemed qualified enough to run the local pet clinic, but it’s all very platonic and dull. None of the male dogs seems keen to take a run at Skye, which suggests that Katie maybe dealt with these pups a little while ago on a professional basis, and would account for all the unbroken voices.

Music: Upon listening to the theme, your initial reaction is, ‘my god, Sum 41 have fallen on hard times’. And upon googling Sum 41, you’ll see that they’re also Canadian (move up Bryan, Celine), and wonder whether there’s something in your initial thesis. But ultimately, no, the pop-punk sound has been taken, sanitised and turned into a powerfully catchy ditty by a group with the most obvious of names: Voodoo Highway Music & Post. The most irritating aspect is that you are led to believe that one of the dogs is called ‘Yeah!’ as the roll call elapses: “Marshall! Rubble! Chase! Rocky! Zuma! Skye! Yeah! They’re on their way…” Deal with the profound earworm by listening to Blink 182 again - the best example of a now-corrupted genre. (3/10)

Plausibility: Talking dogs who act as the emergency services, a ten-year old in charge, and a large urban area with no visible litter - you have come to the wrong place for verisimilitude. However, the fact that only one of the six pups is female does mirror current gender inequalities, so that’s very 2018. The most prominent female in a position of power, Mayor Goodway, is a ridiculous caricature of a ditzy, bumbling woman with a successful career in public service, much like the Daily Mail imagines Diane Abbott (or all women with jobs) to act - so is this plausible in terms of the representation of attitudes to women in politics, rather than the reality (which it obviously isn't)? I'll get my Sixth-Formers onto the case after the holidays. 

Popular representation of women in politics, 2018

Overall, the fact that the whole show is being played for the merchandising very much fits current trends of much of modern life being too painful to contemplate. (4/10)

Education: Tricky to place. Children won’t really learn much about the realities of the emergency services or local government, or how to ensure a gender balance in children’s TV, but in conversations with parents and caregivers they should be able to grasp concepts like ‘saturation point’ and ‘shareholder dividend’, so it’s swings and roundabouts really. (2/10)

Overall: What children’s TV would look like if Rupert Murdoch - a man so terrible, Dennis Potter named his cancer tumour after him - got his hands on it. Love and cherish the BBC, pay your licence fee, and don’t feel too bad about Toys ‘R’ Us closing down, because the toy companies are coming after your wallets, and your souls. (1/10)

Peppa Pig

Channel: Channel 5/ Nick Jr

Running Time: 5 mins (ish)

Date: 2004 - present

I have the most amazing pulled pork recipe, if anyone's interested. 

Premise:
***WARNING: THE FOLLOWING CONTAINS PUNS THAT HAVE NOT BEEN PASSED COMPLETELY SAFE FOR HUMAN CONSUMPTION***

Peppa is a young, animated, anthropomorphic pig who lives in a house with her mother and father, and her infant brother George. They live in a house at the top of an unrealistically steep hill, and have adventures of the sort that are kind of low-key in the same way as Bing, but without the downright-weird Flop element (If that sentence confuses you, head here).

Peppa and her family talk in English, but incorporate little snorts here and there to remind you that they’re actually pigs, unless you’d forgotten. They visit their grandparents, jump in puddles, ride bikes, go to the shops, pour-cups of tea, and generally live an idyllic piggy life (but if George goes missing, Peppa will do anything to get the baby back - and shoulder the blame herself). The sense of humour is pretty obvious; there are plenty of voice actors willing to ham it up. On the hoof, sometimes. You know, ad hock.

They are friends with other groups of animals, such as the rabbits, the dogs, the ponies, the zebras - the kinds of animals you see out and about everyday anyway. But what do you care? S’nowt to do with you. The original premise had most episodes set at their beach house near Copenhagen, but unfortunately they were duped by property scammers, and the incident was popularly known as the Danish Bay Con (I’ll stop now, but you’d have loved my reference to the numerous copies of A Doll’s House they have lying around the place. Oh, go on then. The spare-Ibsen).

Henrik Ibsen: clearly a fan of chops. It is unclear how he felt about his name being used for third-rate puns. 

Peppa and her family appear live a life beyond free-range; despite this, their diet - especially Daddy Pig’s - is very unhealthy, and could invalidate any future claims that the future Peppacorn Sausages Range are organic.

Background: With their first foray into children’s television, The Big Knights, disappointingly treated by the BBC, the trio of friends Phil Davies, Mark Astley and Neville Astley said they would, in future, seek other outlets for their work. And this is why Peppa Pig isn’t a CBeebies programme, as it feels like it should be. Funded in part by Nick Jr and a lot by themselves, it appears that our three musketeers were very confident in themselves that they were on to a winner. Even though it seems ridiculous to look back on, back in the early part of the century a lot of children’s TV was dominated by male characters - Bob the Builder, Fireman Sam, Postman Pat. The idea of a female lead was a bit of a novel one. Our trio also knew that the way to big money was through the spin-offs and the merch - not the show itself. However, this extremely thorough and very interesting article from the FT in 2010, cite the 3 millionth DVD sale in that year - “at £10 a DVD, that’s quite a lot”, says Phil Davies, freshly returned from three months in the Maldives at that point, where clearly he had spent time brushing up on his maths. Although I’m personally not a massive fan of ostentatious wealth (unless it’s mine), these three gents seem to have taken an enormous risk with their own money, succeeded massively, and managed not to do it by selling arms or vlogging, and that is worth a lot of respect.

Co-creator Phil Davies describes himself as owning "a fancy car". See if you can guess how he affords it. 

For a seemingly innocuous programme, Peppa Pig really has caused a lot of controversy over the years. Peppa was a promotional figure for the Sure Start programme launched by the 1997-2010 Labour government, and confirmed that she would not be attending the launch of the party’s 2010 families manifesto ‘in the interests of avoiding any controversy or misunderstanding’, just in case anyone was more likely to vote for (or against) Labour on the basis that a fictional pig was in a photo op.

There were complaints, and subsequent retrospective animation, to include seat belts to the characters whilst in transit, which had been missed off as an oversight on the first couple of series, as were bicycle helmets. And, in 2012, the episode ‘Mr Skinnylegs’ was banned from broadcast in Australia after complaints were received about the sentiment that ‘spiders were not to be feared’.

(Hopefully) not an Australian spider. 

The most bizzare of these sideshows, and most open to deliberate misinterpretation by The Daily Mail click-bait hacks occured when Norman Lamb, Liberal Democrat leadership hopeful (four words which are increasingly funny when seen together in the same sentence), stated that children’s TV should include homosexual characters, as it was representative of modern society, and to exclude gay characters from children’s TV would suggest there is a limit to gay rights. When asked if there should be gay characters on Peppa Pig, he said it should not be “out of bounds… which it appears to be at the moment”. Of course, this was twisted deliberately by the tabloids, not least in the Mail headline “It’s time for a LESBIAN Peppa Pig”, which is not at all what Lamb was saying, but hey, clicks.

Entertainment: A strong one from both parent and child perspectives. The voice acting - particularly from Daddy Pig (Richard Ridings) and the narrator (John Sparkes) stand out as charming and earnest, and the children are not bad either. The stories never achieve the levels of tweeness and saccharine that Bing and Topsy and Tim aspire to - there is a sense of fun embedded in each episode, and ‘learning’ is thankfully given a back seat (in a seat belt, one hopes) to the silliness, tomfoolery, and downright nincompoopery of the script. The episodes are nice and bitesize for our toddler, and one blends into the other quite seamlessly for a good Amazon Prime bingewatch.

Ratings:

Sex: Given that a typical litter of (domesticated) pigs ranges from 5-25 piglets (averaging 10-12), it appears that Mummy and Daddy Pig either ate all the other pigs in each litter that produced Peppa and George, or Daddy Pig’s much commented-upon obesity has affected his fertility, his sex drive, or both. (1/10)

Music: The theme tune is catchy without being too intrusive; there is a nice, brassy, oompah-oompah feel to it, which is tonally consistent with the rest of the show. Although I’ve heard numerous complaints about earworm, this is much less annoying than Raa-Raa. (7/10)

Plausibility: Many obstacles here, the pig thing being the most obvious. Although the steepness of the hill upon which Peppa’s house is built is an obvious starting point for pedants, it should be noted that a) Daddy Pig works as a architectural engineer and should know his stuff, b) the structural integrity of the house has (as of writing) yet to be featured in the plot, and c) the writers wanted it that way, to match the way in which children draw their own houses. And, more importantly, Mark Baker notes: “Well, it’s just that having a huge hill like that is so funny. And ridiculous – that every time Peppa and George run out to play, they have to run down this very, very steep hill. It is optimistic, and fun.” An optimistically steep hill. There you go. (5/10)

House/ pigs not drawn to scale. 

Education: Some important messages about family unity and inter-sibling co-operation are established early, and maintained throughout. Children are certainly not being stretched in terms of how different kinds of families are presented - this setup is strictly nuclear and traditional. Whilst this is fine on its own terms, it will be interesting to see when children’s - especially pre-schoolers’ - television presents a non-traditional family unit and doesn’t make a big deal about it.

Daddy Pig is perhaps the true hero of the show in that he never lets embarrassment or failure get in the way of his cheery demeanour, which is a good lesson for adults, if not the target audience. (8/10)

Overall: A triumph of pre-school schedules - this is not quite in the same vein as the all-time classics of Teletubbies, In The Night Garden and Thomas the Tank Engine, but I reckon if you ask a five year old they’d likely disagree. Peppa isn’t going anywhere soon, unless there is a nuclear holocaust, in which case her isolated, unsheltered hill-top dwelling is likely to be among the first casualties of the blast. I found Peppa the more charming the more I wrote about her, and even though I’d eat a chorizo sausage made out of her, I’d feel slightly sad about it.

Well worth including as part of a diverse televisual portfolio. (8/10).

Catch up on any missed blogs here, including The Furchester Hotel, Bing, In the Night Garden, Teletubbies, and Postman Pat SDS.

Go Jetters!

Channel: CBeebies

Running Time: 11 minutes

Date: 2015- present

Noses: Difficult to animate.

Just a quick pointer - you can read all my previous blogs, including In the Night Garden, Postman Pat SDS, The Furchester Hotel, Teletubbies, Bing, Raa Raa and Hey Duggee! at this link. 

Premise: "Training with the Go Jet Academy, four explorers on a global adventure: Xuli, Kyan, Lars, Foz. They are... the Go Jetters!" If you're a fan of asyndetic listing you're already hooked, but... cue disco music, and what could possibly be - and I'm going out on a limb here - the most catchy children's theme tune at least this century. Not the best. But maybe the catchiest. We'll come to that 'Academy' bit soon, but for now I'll run you through a typical episode.

The Go Jetters begin on the 'Jet Pad' - a big rocket ship with no visible polluting emissions, that zooms around the world, visiting spots of geographic significance. A disco-dancing unicorn - Ubercorn - talks them through said landmark with some 'funky facts' which are less 'funky' than 'rudimentary', but hey, alliteration. At the moment it sounds like Elon Musk's SpaceX programme has branched out into selling tame but expensive gap year experiences, so they've added some jeopardy - some very consistent jeopardy - in the form of Grandmaster Glitch and his Minions Grimbots. Consistent meaning every single episode. Grandmaster Glitch is the foil to our Go Jetters - a bit like The Hood in Thunderbirds, but completely useless and far less malevolent. Kind of like of Michael Gove (smug, narcissistic, all-round appalling human being) crossed with Barry Chuckle (clumsy; big moustache).

Grimbots/Not Minions: someone probably should have been sued by now.

Ultimately, our heroes are tasked with saving the geographic landmark, and usually some tourists as well. They race off, Thunderbirds style, to their sister ship, the 'Vroomster', which you need to see written down, because it sounds just like the 'Broomster', Harry Potter's latest Firebolt model at time of going to press. At the moment where we think all is lost, deus ex machina is invoked by the storytellers, as somehow, Ubercorn is able to transpose some helpful kit literally into the arms and onto the backs of our academy trainees. And, whether it be the Easter Island statues, the White Cliffs of Dover, the Eiffel Tower or the Great Wall of China, the day is saved. Grandmaster Glitch is foiled and humiliated, but rarely injured, and never killed. The Go Jetters gather for a congratulatory selfie, because 21st century. 

Click-ons: These literally appear out of nowhere.

Background: Although you might have missed the opening episode from October 26th 2015 because you were hungover from celebrating Jimmy Morales' presidential victory in Guatemala, you have certainly not had the excuse to miss it since, with over 60 episodes made in the last two years. It is regularly broadcast in the 'Oh crap is that the time!' slot on CBeebies.

Although President Morales might have thought his election victory the more significant event, history seems to have favoured Go Jetters' fortunes rather more. Earlier this autumn, the producers of the BAFTA-nominated show were rolling out series two with triumphant trailers all across CBeebies, whilst Morales was receiving criticism from the UN, and was in danger of having his immunity from prosecution withdrawn in light of damning accusations of illegal donations to his political party, the National Convergence Front. 

President Jimmy Morales incorrectly answers the question: How many Funky Facts does Ubercorn offer each episode?

Apparently the animation programme the producers use, Corona Renderer, is all very clever and everything, and you can read a glowing tribute and interview on Corona Renderer's website, if that's your bag, but having waded through it myself, it's a bit heavy on tech-speak and not very helpful if you're trying to investigate the Go Jet Academy's financial accounts, and how much funding is being diverted from other academies in the local education authority area.

As yet there has not been one single episode of Go Jetters based in Guatemala.

Entertainment: You've got to hand it to the writers: there is a lot to be said about repeating a very simple formula over and over again, changing very little other than the location - something the owners of Formula One and the tour managers of the Rolling Stones know to their bank balances' immense credit. The 'funky facts' can sometimes border on the simplistic (Loch Ness is very deep, the Pyramids of Giza are very old), but there is definitely some varied 'tainment' to be had in this very knowing  'edutainment' series, even if most of it has been borrowed from Thunderbirds.

This unicorn did a LOT of Mary Jane back in the day

One disappointment lies in the catchphrases of each character. Xuli's 'not cool' is barely even a catchphrase; Kyan's 'aced it' smacks of self-serving superiority; Foz's overuse of 'ergo' implies a young man who very much learns each new word through a subscription to Clever Club; and finally, Lars' 'Geographic!' is so wantonly tragic it forces me to reconsider the virtues of bullying. Glitch's 'Grimbles!' is by far the most quotable in real life, though I sense an ironic use for #Geographic one day in the (quite distant) future.

Although there are countless #geographic! and historically significant sites still to be mined for story ideas (keeping fingers crossed for the Doncaster Frenchgate Shopping Centre episode!), one cannot escape the feeling that Go Jetters are going to have to do something out of the ordinary pretty soon. Perhaps some spin-offs - follow the characters during their boozy 18-30 holidays, commission a prequel series charting Ubercorn's harrowing addiction to cocaine in the early 1980s, or jump on the bandwagon with a Stranger Things crossover, where the Go Jetters have to rescue the Great Barrier Reef from The Upside Down, only to discover that it fared better in a world of death and decay than in real life.

The Great Barrier Reef in the Upside Down - and the Right Way Up. #newsflash we're all screwed.

Fans of disappointing arts and crafts can learn how to make a Grandmaster Glitch moustache/eyebrows combo here, using straws, card, tape, and a world-weary resignation.

Hard to believe, but this is not actually Grandmaster Glitch.

Ratings:

Sex: These gap year students seem to be all about the geography. A quick peek inside Lars' room suggests they are all equipped with single beds; their skin tight Lycra leaves everything to the imagination. The possibilities of the disco soundtrack are lost on them. Expect to see them at a Young Conservatives event in ten years' time. 1/10

Just room for a single bed, but still bigger than any affordable flat in London. 

Music: No-one can deny the power of that theme tune. It is hard to tell what came first - the focus on geography or the focus on disco. Barry Gibb would be proud of this one. 8/10

Plausibility: As with its CBeebies cousin Octonauts, there is a nagging question of where these students' funding comes from. The Go Jetters themselves appear to be the only four students at this academy, and command a set of intricate machinery that even Jeff Tracy would have thought flashy and extravagant. This, readers, is why we 'can't afford' pay rises for nurses.

Fans of rules and regulations - and god knows I'm one - will notice Xuli's insistence every episode of always reminding the Go Jetters to fasten their Vroomster seat belts only after the countdown for lift-off has concluded. Bearing in mind she's the one who's going to be in trouble in the event of an insurance claim, I'd make sure Lars, Foz and Kyan are safely belted before I even turn the engine on. 2/10

Education: This show is up there with 'Do You Know' and 'Horrible Histories' in terms of its wider value to the education of young people. Dr Paula Owens, consultant to the series, has said "Geography is about so much more than where places are and what they are called...It helps explain how everything we do has a bearing on other people, places and environments - for good and bad." I would suggest the carbon emissions of four students flying across the world in a rocket ship definitely goes in the 'bad' column here, but maybe that Jet Pad runs on good intentions. 'Funky Facts' though, is definitely something I'd add to some of my favourite shows - Breaking Bad had a lot of things going for it, but a top three on crystal meth would have filled in some context. I'd also have liked to have seen characters in The Wire introduced in this way. 8/10

Overall: It's more Go Jetters than No Jetters, but patience is wearing thin. There's only so many times Lars can say 'It's heading straight for those tourists!' before the words lose all meaning. 6/10

Hey Duggee!

Channel: CBeebies

Running Time: 7 minutes

Date: 2014- present

Early spoiler: this show is much, much better than it looks...

Premise: A series of anthropomorphic animal characters regularly attend a kind of after-school/day care style club: The Squirrel Club (though it appears that few, if any actual squirrels attend). Said club is run by the eponymous hero, Duggee, a large cuddly dog who only ever says 'Woof!', but has obtained the requisite paperwork to look after a number of young children in a variety of indoor and outdoor settings. Imagine Hodor as a Cub Scout Leader, and you're about there.

The Clubhouse: building and owner presumably up-to-date with all current Ofsted requirements

Each episode, the Squirrels earn a badge of some kind, related to the activity or challenge or problem that has been thrown their way in that episode. Some are more mainstream (the Drawing Badge, the Rescue Badge and the We Love Animals Badge), some are quite niche (the Omelette Badge, the Dancing Bug Badge) and some are just so 21st century (the Yoga Badge). Yet to be confirmed for series three are the Brexit-Means-Brexit Badge, the Safe-Sexting Badge, the Fidget-Spinner Badge, and the badge for big fans of 1990s episodes of Neighbours (the Madge Badge).

Some of the badges available to the Squirrels; also a range of attractive yet affordable coasters.

A cast of regular and minor characters keep things fresh and bouncy, such as the hippy Rabbits, and my personal favourites, the gangster mice (catchphrase upon departing a scene "Let's Bounce!", popularised in an early draft of Romeo and Juliet; Shakespeare eventually went with "Hence, be gone, away!")

The animation is minimalist but colourful; the plots are imaginative without slipping into 'zany', or zany's idiot cousin, 'wacky'; and the voice talent ranges from the subtle youngsters (learn a lesson, Bing), to the instantly recognisable (Alexander Armstrong, currently running out of digits to place into so many pies).

Background: Creator Grant Orchard of Studio AKA explains a lot in this comprehensive interview. He has a background in Flash animation and advertising, and clearly has affection for the aesthetic and the tone of the show. He is also one of the few people who goes out of their way to put a lot of their success  down to luck, which gives him bonus points.

He was asked to pitch an idea, he came up with some of the characters, and the rest, as they say, was developed over a consequent series of brainstorming sessions, animation tests, focus groups and pilot episodes. Or something.

The animation is all done on something called Flash, which I only know from the amount of times it crashes my browser, but I'm glad there are genuinely people out there who know what it does and how it is used. For simplicity's sake, Duggee is the only character with shade gradients, and some characters are simple shapes (the frogs are just green triangles with eyes, and it's about time someone took them down a peg or two).

A tutorial on how to draw a triangle with eyes. Somehow, three previous steps are necessary to get to this point.

It has recently won an International Emmy Kids Award for best Pre-School show. At the same awards, a Danish show called Ultras Sorte Kageshow won for 'Best Non-Scripted Entertainment', which sounds a bit creepy, until you find out the translation is 'Baking in the Dark', and then it sounds completely creepy, like being stalked by Paul Hollywood.

Entertainment: Hey Duggee! is difficult not to love. The pace and tone are warm, energetic and playful, and there is a lot of self-awareness that is lacking in, say, let's pick on Bing again. Most funny is the fact that I watch the show in Yorkshire, a county where a 'Duggee' is a derogatory term for someone who has found themselves, by no fault or complete fault of their own, in the lowest set in a subject at school. It is like calling a show 'Hey Pleb!' or 'Hey Jeeves!' if you went to Eton.

At a first glance the Flash animation looks as if it's quite lazy - the demands of pre-school TV ensure plenty of content at the lowest cost. However, the animation style is probably one of its greatest strengths - the minimalism that works so well with web comics like XKCD helps you focus on the difficult plot points. There is a lovely surrealism to Hey Duggee! - not the dreamy hippy schtick of In the NightGarden, but perhaps something more in the way of magic realism crossed with a folk song.

Characters so simple, even a highly trained professional animator could design them.

Ratings:

Sex: Nothing to get your pulse racing, although Duggee's shadow/silhouette could be considered somewhat disturbing... 2/10

Once Duggee stops waving, we all get very scared very quickly.

Music: A clear strong point. The mandolin and/ or ukulele theme is fun, and does not earworm in the irritating habit of Raa Raa or the Teletubbies. There's also some unexpected dalliances with what sounds like 1930s swing music during montages. Essentially, the producers have asked themselves the most important question in children's TV - not 'what would the children like?' - but 'what would I like?' 8/10

Plausibility: One of the most endearing elements of this (or any other) children's show is also one of the most subtle. As the animal parents transport the Squirrels to Duggee's and pick them up later, you might note that the crocodile (named Happy) is dropped off by an elephant, heavily implying that Happy is adopted. Nothing is made of this in the show, but I can't really call to mind any other feature in any other CBeebies broadcast which shows that kind of empathy. However, that is not to say that the channel does not champion other minority groups, as in Mr Tumble's output, and their employment of Cerrie Burnell. Obviously the rest of it is largely fantastical - sadly even the notion of a scout hut is perhaps a bit too much of a throwback to a bygone time for a lot of Young People Today™. 6/10

Education: Given the implausibilities mentioned above, it is not much of a surprise that the educational nature of the show falls largely under 'soft skills' rather than actual subject knowledge. To whit, friendship, teamwork, and co-operation are centre-stage in each episode, plus the comforting reminder that not every seemingly inappropriate children's supervisor has a sinister dark side. Duggee is very much to his Squirrels what Mr Poppy is to Nativity! On another level, if I was a child, and had a basic working knowledge of computers, I would be inspired to learn how Flash works, and seeing what I could do with it. However, I lack the knowledge, skills, inclination, creativity, and time in the day, so I will have to rely on straightforward blogging templates for the time being. 7/10.

Overall: Well played, everyone. 8/10

Teletubbies

Teletubbies/ Teletubbies Redux

Channel: CBeebies

Running Time: 28 mins/ 15 mins

Simpler times, before cocaine addiction drove a wedge between Po and Dipsy.

Date: 1997-2001; 2015-present

Premise: A magical land, with a sky slightly too blue and grass slightly too green. Rabbits roam freely. The Teletubbies emerge from the top of a domed house covered in greenery - a very ecologically friendly design. They are Tinky Winky, Dispy, Laa-Laa and Po. Fat-bottomed, colourful, with an antennae on their heads and a television in their tummy, they are the delight of pre-schoolers and the disgust of many parents, dead homophobic American televangelists, and the Polish Ombudsman for Children; they are probably the most commercially successful children's TV characters in living memory.

In each episode, they do a lot of cuddling, eating Tubby Custard and Tubby Toast, talking in a simplistic and babyish style, and once an episode, a windmill transmits a TV signal to one lucky Tubby. The others gather round and watch a live-action video of some children doing some stuff (it changes each time: "some stuff" is the most specific I can be). The Tubbies want to see it again, and so they watch it again. Secondary characters include the Noo-Noo - a deliberately provocatively named anthropomorphic vacuum cleaner, and the 'Sun Baby' - a baby already old enough to have had a creepy 'all grown up' tabloid human-interest piece.

Added in the most recent revival series are the TiddlyTubbies: Eight - yes, eight - baby Teletubbies. This came as a massive surprise to those of us who assumed that the Teletubbies were already kind of babyish. Perhaps the aim was to mirror the relationship of younger siblings, perhaps they thought they could gouge out some extra cash from the commercial opportunities; regardless, it does leave twelve named Tubbies to keep up with. If you thought 'Laa-Laa' and 'Po' were a bit cringeworthy, save some moral outrage for Umby-Pumby, Mi-Mi, Daa Daa, Baa, Ping, Ru Ru, Nin, and Duggle Dee (I had to look this up because it sounds too close to 'Double D', which is clearly inappropriate, but it's in my head now, so that's what he'll have to be called).  Only one of the full-sized Teletubbies gets to play with the TiddlyTubbies at a time; I know I thought Flop was an inappropriate childminder for Bing on account of his size, but Ru Ru and co. don't even seem to have one appropriate adult present.

The Teletubbies have a horror movie spin-off planned for Halloween 2017; this is from the teaser trailer.

Background: This was the original hit for writer/creator Andrew Davenport, whose story of the creation of In The Night Garden is covered here. He was inspired, believe it or not, by the moon landings - and the way that the pinnacle of human achievement was visually presented thus: "like toddlers, with oversized heads and foreshortened legs – and they respond to the excitement of their new world by bouncing about."

He claims that he was also influenced by Benny Hill's fast forwarded sequences - which very much undersells the intellectual quality of Teletubbies' humour, and Morcambe and Wise - who I think he's being a little bit optimistic in mentioning. It's a bit like claiming the song 'Teletubbies Say Eh-Oh' was inspired by David Bowie.

The original series filmed in Warwickshire; the Teletubbies' house (the appallingly titled 'Tubbytronic Superdome') was the subject of intense media speculation in 1997, before Princess Diana died and took the heat off them for a bit. Davenport remembers: "We'd be trying to get on with making a quiet, innocent programme – with helicopters overhead and Land Rovers hurtling towards us", which to me just sounds like a cycle ride in central London.  

Tinky-Winky appears to have been the lightning rod for a number of controversies, all of which are perfectly understandable, if you are stark raving mad. Jerry Falwell, US televangelist, and fully paid-up member of the **** Club, described Tinky-Winky as a moral menace, on account of his purple colour (apparently the colour of gay pride), and his antenna being the shape of a triangle (apparently the gay pride symbol). Plus he carries what looks like a ladies' bag. Ken Viselman of Itsy-Bitsy Entertainment responded to the furore: "He's not gay. He's not straight. He's just a character in a children's series", which I found a disappointingly unprovocative response.

The most sexually provocative image in UK children's TV history, if you are a moron.

However, the Polish Ombudsman for Children was not satisfied. In 2007 she ordered her office's psychologists, who must have been delighted with the commission, to investigate. Her conclusion was delivered with the kind of gravitas you might expect from a report into gun-running or knife crime: "The opinion of a leading sexologist, who maintains that this series has no negative effects on a child's psychology, is perfectly credible. As a result I have decided that it is no longer necessary to seek the opinion of other psychologists." Presumably the next psychologist had to investigate communist subversion in Thomas the Tank Engine.  

Entertainment:  A tricky one. The runaway success with children, and its ability to inspire a smile, a dance, or just a general Pavlovian gratification upon a request ("DUBBIES!") and its fulfillment ("Yes, alright, just wait for f*cking iPlayer to work...") is priceless to any parent who dares to drink tea whilst it's hot (borrowed from the admirably realistic CBeebies mission statement).

Although the baby talk can grate, it is more the narrative style to which I object; though, being an English Literature graduate, you may accuse me of being unduly pedantic, or, in technical parlance, a "smart arse". The narrator tells a story in past tense: "One day, in Teletubby Land, the Teletubbies were playing hide and seek". The Teletubbies, however, are all stood in a line, and then react to the narrator, as if they were merely being directed by him, rather than acting on their own spontaneity. I would prefer the above narration to accompany a scene where the Teletubbies are already hidden, in order to maintain a sense of intrigue, basic viewer engagement, and just to give poor old Po a bit of dignity.

It's a net win, partially due to the 'again again!' quirk for the Tubby Tales, which wonderfully mirrors an infant's patterns of behaviour, and mentality, which must be a wonderful bonus for the producers, who get twice as much material for one outlay of a glorified family home video.

Ratings:

Sex: The Tinky Winky controversy is helping, as is the abundance of TiddlyTubbies, seemingly from nowhere. Are those rabbits symbolic? (6/10)

Music: More so than X-Factor, this Simon Cowell quote, regarding the race to sign the rights to 'Teletubbies Say Eh-Oh', tells you everything you need to know about him: "I heard another record label were about to sign the Teletubbies, so I got the BBC in my office and told them I would give them £500,000 in advance. We knew a record like that would make over £2 million." 

A heart-warmingly deserving beneficiary of the Teletubbies' success.

Total UK sales were 1.3 million, but it was beaten to the 1997 Christmas Number One spot by the Spice Girls' 'Too Much' (a title which was far too self-aware for its own good). 'Teletubbies Say Eh-Oh' was genuinely shortlisted for an Ivor Novello award, and is still the 83rd best selling single in UK history. Make of that what you will, but those are some impressive stats. (8/10)

Plausibility: Clearly it is absolute bonkers. The Teletubbies are bipeds, and rabbits do exist; that's all the Real you're getting. (2/10)

Education: Now, I'm pretty sure Teletubbies is helping my little boy, who is not even two years old yet, acquire vital life skills such as identification of colours, numbers, and what a Noo-Noo is. Whether or not that is impressive, I don't know or care; he is my son, ergo he is clearly a genius. But those who complain that it is not 'educational' are perhaps missing the point: not all children's TV should be educational, and for infants, education is an extremely problematic term. The Teletubbies hug each other a lot, and that is education enough for me. (5/10)

Overall: Ultimately one of the all-time classics, which irritates a lot of grown-ups for the following reasons: 1) it's not Bagpuss; 2) they didn't watch it when they were children so it's shit by default, 3) the baby talk, and 4) it has been ruthlessly exploited as a commercial vehicle, which they definitely wouldn't have done because they're morally superior. However, these people are humourless, and not currently trying to entertain a toddler. Long live the Teletubbies.  (9/10)