Shown on Halloween 1992 just after the 9pm watershed, Ghostwatch created
something of a stir for purporting to be a live broadcast investigating
nationwide claims of paranormal phenomena. The programme was, in fact, an
elaborately staged drama, written by horror specialist Stephen Volk and
pre-recorded months earlier.
Ghostwatch is a fascinating exercise in postmodern narrative strategies
inspired by the work of Luigi Pirandello and Nigel Kneale, presented by Michael
Parkinson and with real-life husband and wife television presenters Mike Smith
and Sarah Greene appearing as themselves in a completely scripted horror drama
in which one of them apparently dies at the end.
Technically, it is highly proficient, confidently deploying studio
techniques, a mock Outside Broadcast Unit (the BBC wouldn't let them use a real
one), infrared and close circuit cameras, low-grade VHS recordings and simulated
satellite linkups to give the appearance of a live investigation - even the
onscreen hotline number worked. Despite all this effort, however, it never
really convinces, partly because many of the characters aren't believable as
real people, especially the increasingly unsettled parapsychology expert Lin
Pascoe. Ghostwatch never attempts to be truly plausible and only toys with the
notion, the climaxes building too incrementally to be credible outside of
scripted drama.
It really doesn't matter if the performances aren't convincing though, since
the whole conceit is most effective as a pointed comment on the nature of
'reality' television and how its presentational modes can be easily manipulated
for the purposes of manufactured drama. Seen today, following the advent of such
tightly controlled 'reality' shows as Big Brother (Channel 4, 2000- ) and
especially Most Haunted (Living TV, 2002- ), it is clear that the strong
audience response Ghostwatch received at the time was due less to its dubious
credibility as a factual broadcast than to the way that it tapped into
audiences' desire to be fooled, to be tickled by even the slightest possibility
that a live broadcast could really go out of control. At the climax Volk
cleverly develops on a theme from The Stone Tape (BBC, tx. 24/12/1972) and has
the ghost (nicknamed 'Pipes') entering the machines and being unleashed through
the media (it even sabotages Parkinson's autocue); the parapsychologist
concludes that the broadcast has acted as a gigantic séance, thus making the
viewers truly part of the drama.
Sergio Angelini
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