5 British TV Tie-in Computer Games from the 8-Bit Era

The Playstation 5 is the pinnacle of modern gaming. With 16GB of RAM, an 8-core AMD Zen 2 processor, a frame rate of 120Hz and capable of displaying billions of different colours, it’s a formidable beast. But you can’t play Knightmare on it. There’s absolutely no chance of controlling The Young Ones. And as for A Question of Sport? Forget about it. However, if you travel back in time and arm yourselves with just a few kilobytes and a cassette, you can enjoy all these and more.

As a youngster of limited ambition and energetic thumbs, I was a passionate gamer. From the raucous screech of Amstrad CPC loading screens that sounded like a dial-up modem having a nervous breakdown, through to the instant gratification of a well-moulded SNES cartridge and onto the point/click precision of PC gaming, I dashed through this pixelated wonderland like an Italian plumber.

But then, the inevitable happened. I discovered beer. Specifically, Newcastle Brown Ale - an earthy elixir which promised adulthood and led to countless calls on the porcelain telephone. My consoles started collecting dust and I embarked on a series of magical, unpredictable adventures that even the finest programmer would struggle to dream up.

Gaming, for me, is just a relic of a misspent youth. But it's also pure nostalgia. In those halycon days, there's one abiding memory which stands out: the shelves of my local computer shop sagging under the weight of TV tie-in computer games. Most of these 8-bit tributes to our favourite shows were terminal mediocrity. Occasionally, there was a touch of genius, but only fleetingly. On the whole, they were get-rich-quick schemes determined to rob schoolchildren of their precious pocket money.

I owned several of them. Many others, though, slipped through my clammy, adolescent fingers. Now, thanks to the magic of emulators, I can revisit them with adult hindsight and minus the load times.

The Curious Tale of Bristol Channel

Once upon a time, community television in Britain was considered an exciting experiment, something that hadn’t been done before and could unite communities while fostering creativity. In hindsight, local television endeavours often faced ridicule and operated on shoestring budgets. But, back in the early 1970s, there was a real buzz about showcasing the community and providing a voice for the locals.

In 1972, the Minister of Posts and Telecommunications, Christopher Chataway, announced an ambitious project aimed at evaluating the logistics and appeal of local television services provided through a cable service. Cable television wasn't new in Britain; the BBC's earliest cable broadcasts date back to 1936. However, independently operated cable television stations were rare. Pay-TV, an innovative pay-per-view service, had been launched at the start of 1966, but by the end of 1968 they had ceased transmissions.

Now, though, there would be five community cable channels launched in Greenwich, Sheffield, Swindon, Wellingborough and Bristol. Greenwich Cablevision was first out of the blocks in July 1972, and, for 10 months, was the UK's sole community cable channel. And then it was joined by Bristol Channel.

Yes, There Was a Mid-1980s US Pilot of The Wombles

"The series will outsell The Muppets series of the late 1970s" Vincent C Piano, CEO of Mizlou Programming, 1986

Over the years, there have been numerous U.S. adaptations of British TV shows. Some, such as Sanford and Son, Shameless, and The Office, have been wildly successful, while others have struggled. Transatlantic adaptations of The Inbetweeners, Teachers, and multiple attempts at Fawlty Towers are often seen as flaming car crashes at the bottom of the Grand Canyon. However, few people know there was an audacious attempt to introduce The Wombles to American audiences.

Up Our Street

I doubt many people remember Up Our Street. In fact I'd bet my bottom thrupenny bit that fewer than a handful do. But that's the ephemeral beauty of the past - not everything has to be remembered.

More often than not, it's for good reason: appalling levels of quality. Sometimes, though, things simply fail to make an impact. That's not necessarily a slight on their quality; they just lack that certain something to stand out when we look back decades later.

When it comes to television, Curious British Telly has always thrived on unearthing forgotten nuggets and breathing life back into them, if only for a few fleeting moments. It's an exercise that's very much up our street. Just like Up Our Street.

Prospects - The Face: August 1985

One of the earliest programmes covered on Curious British Telly was the much underrated Prospects. Since that article, written over 12 years ago when I barely knew what I was wittering on about, Prospects has had a DVD release, but still fails to garner the recognition it deserves.

Those who know, know that it's a classic production from Euston Films, featuring sharp scripts and excellent performances from the late Gary Olsen and Brian Bovell. The quality speaks for itself and, well, I guess there's no accounting for taste.

I don't want to dwell on the shortcomings of the British public's taste, so I'll move onto something more positive for those who relish the adventures of Pincey and Billy: an article from The Face dating back to August 1985 which looks at the upcoming Prospects.

Archive Tape Digging: December 2024

It's time for another look into the increasingly distant past with another edition of Archive Tape Digging, the feature which digs up old programmmes, mind-bending adverts, and curious slices of continuity from Britain's rich televisual history.

Book Review: Opening The Box of Delights (2024 Edition)

The festive season is upon us once more and, of course, that means The Box of Delights will be getting its yearly airing for countless fans of vintage British television. And 2024 marks 40 years since The Box of Delights was first aired by BBC1 on 21st November 1984. To celebrate this landmark anniversary, and sweeten the pill that we're all 40 years older, Philip W. Errington has brought us an updated version of his book Opening the Box of Delights.

Winning a Lunch with Brian Cant in 1981

I’ve always been careful to ensure Curious British Telly doesn’t become a rose tinted, nostalgia-for-the-sake-of-nostalgia borefest - you know the thing, see all those Channel 5 documentaries about the 1980s. Nonetheless, it’s sometimes difficult to deny that the past had some amazing opportunities.

Sure, there was nothing as conveniently lazy as, for example, Deliveroo in 1981. But did you need really need it back then? Especially when your hunger could be sated by winning a lunch with the legendary Brian Cant.

The Birth of Thames Television in 1968

Boasting productions such as The Bill, Minder, Man about the House, Rainbow and The Sooty Show, Thames Television produced some of my favourite television programmes of all time. And then there’s that iconic Thames Television ident, featuring the London skyline against Johnny Hawksworth’s classic Thames theme. Yes, there’s a lot to love about Thames Television. But you know what? I know barely anything about how it came to enrich our lives, so let’s head back to the late 1960s to find out.

The Slow, Slow Start of BBC Video

I still remember the first BBC Video I got: Pyramids of Mars, the classic 1975 Doctor Who serial featuring Tom Baker. This was in 1987, and it meant a lot to a five-year-old who had only been on the planet long enough to catch the end of Colin Baker’s tenure in the role. But BBC Video was about more than just Doctor Who. Suddenly, the BBC’s archive could be opened up to a country rapidly installing VCRs in their homes. However, it was an enterprise hampered by a slow start. A slow, slow start.

YouTube Pick: My Brother David

The tale of David Scarboro isn't one I was overly familiar with, but his short life and career on British television is, in itself, very much like the soap opera which defined his early fame. Full of highs, lows and tragedy, it's almost as if the infamous EastEnders doof doofs were positioned perilously above his head once he found fame. And the excellent 1989 edition of Scene entitled My Brother David tells an emotional story, all family pride and revulsion at the way the press tore his life apart.

BBC Select: A Failed Subscription Service

If, in 1987, you had been watching television very late at night, we’re talking post-closedown late, you could have stumbled across something very interesting on BBC2. To be precise, you would have encountered an encrypted engineering test. These tests would have made little sense to the average man on the street. But, for the BBC, they represented tentative steps into their first subscription service. And it failed spectacularly.

Early Children's ITV Continuity Captured

I’ve been digging through some Betamax tapes this weekend and, as luck would have it, the first one I pulled out of the box had an absolute gem on it. And it came in the form of a rare clip of Children’s ITV continuity.