VHS and Betamax Tapes Appeal

When I first started digging through video tapes in 2016, the chances of securing collections of 1980s recordings via Ebay, Gumtree, Facebook Marketplace or kind donations were pretty decent. However, in the last few years, these avenues seem to have been less productive. Ebay, generally seems to be packed full of tapes from the 1990s or later when it comes to VHS, and the Betamax tapes seem to be the same ones picked up and then sold on by fellow tape archaeologists.

However, I'm convinced that there are still piles of old video tapes sat in cupboards and lofts which haven't been played since 1987. The 1980s may be a dim and distant memory, but this doesn't mean we need to forget the ephemeral beauty of the television from that era. So, if you happen to donate a pile of video tapes or know someone who is, then please get in touch with me and we can breathe new, digital life into these recordings

GameZone: Your Ultimate Destination for Online Gaming Excellence

GameZone: Your Ultimate Destination for Online Gaming Excellence

In the ever-expanding world of online gaming, finding a platform that offers both excitement and fairness can be a challenge. Enter GameZone, the premier destination for gamers looking to test their skills, challenge real players, and experience the thrill of competition. Whether you're a casual player seeking fun or a competitive gamer aiming to dominate the leaderboards, GameZone has something for everyone.

Teletext: Without it your set's not with it

Teletext has always had a peculiar hold over me - a pixelated siren call from a bygone era of cathode-ray wonder. In those dim, pre-internet days, it was a digital portal into a wider world of up to the minute news, even if the loading times were sluggish and the content limited to blocky bursts of primary colours. However, it was revolutionary compared to the static, permanence of a newspaper. Eventually, I'd end up writing an article about The Birth of Teletext, so my curiosity around Teletext remains strong. Hence, this explains why I bought a promotional leaflet about Teletext from the early 1980s.

Shades (1982)

If you were a fan of post-apocalyptic nuclear fiction in the first half of the 1980s, you were absolutely spoiled. From The Day After through to Threads and onto When the Wind Blows, it felt as though a full-scale attack of harrowing nuclear dramas were raining down from the heavens. And it was a reflection of a much wider public consciousness, one which was being drip fed a diet of fear through a very real nuclear arms race and the harsh reality of Protect & Survive.

No one truly knew what the future held. Would we be reduced to eating a diet of rats and radioactive sheep as imagined in Threads? Hopefully not. But when the bomb dropped, we did know one thing: we were going to be eating a diet of rats and radioactive sheep. Perhaps, though, there would be an alternative. Maybe the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (CND) would work, and nuclear weapons would be no more. Or, as suggested by Stephen Lowe’s Shades, we’d simply learn to forget about the whole thing.

Tongits: The Thrilling Filipino Card Game You Need to Try!

Are you ready for an electrifying card game that'll keep you on the edge of your seat? Look no further than Tongits, the pulse-pounding Filipino favorite that's taking the world by storm! This three-player showdown combines strategy, luck, and nerve-wracking decisions to create an unforgettable gaming experience. Whether you're a seasoned card shark or a curious newbie, Tongits promises an adrenaline rush like no other!

The Critics View of The Day of the Triffids

The Day of the Triffids is one of the finest examples of British science fiction on television. The performances are less acted and more inhabited, the atmosphere coiled tighter than a rationed gas ring, and the effects - well, let’s call them charmingly shoddy. It’s ridiculous to suggest it’s anything less than a stone-cold classic.

And, 40 years on from its original broadcast, Douglas Livingstone’s adaptation of John Wyndham’s magnum opus remains a talking point. The BBC’s 1981 version, we won’t discuss 2009’s attempt which sunk without a trace, was rewarded with a Blu-Ray release in 2020 and prompted much discussion, even if a lot of that was due to criticism of the restoration.

But back in 1981, a full 30 years on from the publishing date of the original novel, what did the critics make of the BBC’s latest science fiction offering? The Day of the Triffids was part of the BBC’s £33 million drama lineup for 1981 and, as ever, would be under scrutiny from the viewers and the press. There was also the Star Wars issue. Ever since Star Wars had redefined special effects in 1977, anything less than a stellar visual spectacle would be ridiculed, regardless of the budgetary constraints.

So, did the critics hold back? Was there a chance, much like today’s fans of vintage post-apocalyptic dystopian science fiction, they would appreciate the craft and aesthetics of a story which, in 1981, reflected the public’s paranoia of an apocalyptic event? Well, some did. Others, less so.

The Substack is Active Again

A couple of years back, I launched a Substack account for Curious British Telly, a sort of digital attic where I could squirrel away peculiar odds and ends of vintage British television - those charming little curios which didn’t quite fit in with the deeper dives of the main site. Think of it as a scrapbook, with all manner of fascinating cuttings pasted in.

Now, I’ll admit, it fell into a bit of a slump last year, like a forgotten Betamax tape gathering dust up on a shelf. But recently, I’ve started filling it again with gleaming little gems and nuggets of interest for you to digest and ponder over. I've even covered a fascinating blouse work by a Central Television continuity announcer, and if that doesn't tickle your fancy, I don't know what will.

So, if you'd like to receive these musings delivered free to your inbox, just head over to https://curiousbritishtelly.substack.com/

The Sky-Fi Music Show

It never ceases to astonish me that, in Britain during the mid-1980s, you weren’t strictly stuck with just BBC1, BBC2, ITV and Channel 4 for your viewing options. While most of the country soldiered on with this scant selection, pockets of progression were sprouting elsewhere. Cable television was slowly unspooling its coaxial veins in certain enclaves of the country, bringing with it a whole new world of programming.

Enter Sky Channel. Launched in January 1984, it was one of the poster boys of this brave new era. Cable television, mind you, had long been a humble affair - all shoestring budgets and community goodwill. But now it was now time for professional broadcasters to throw their hats into the ring, ready to expand the RGB horizons of British living rooms.

Variety and quality, though, weren't the best terms to describe the early days of Sky Channel. Providing a diet heavy on American reruns such as Starsky and Hutch and Fantasy Island, viewers in search of something new and exciting were left hungry. Nonetheless, in amongst all this trash, a spark of originality emerged: The Sky-Fi Music Show.

Friday People

The unstoppable rise of social media, paired with the bloated growth of British television to just shy of three million channels, has meant celebrities are now ten a penny. Once upon a time, celebrities were rare creatures, glimpsed only by the lucky few, radiating a star power that approached the divine. And it took talent to be a celebrity, not merely a willingness to humiliate yourself in public for a pittance of retweets or the crumbs of a YouTube revenue payout.

Simpler times, us elders lament, as we pour scorn on this modern obsession with celebrity. Yet the truth is, when youth was on our side, we were just as guilty. We too dreamed of this glittering prize, of fame poured down our parched throats like the first sip of a Pimm's on a blistering summer’s day. And while we may not have had social media, we were just as ravenous as today's masses when it came to devouring every last tidbit about our idols. To prove this point, let's head back in time to 1985 for a peep at Friday People.