THE first Glasgow Telly Festival will launch in the city next month.
Scottish author and screenwriter Claire Duffy is the brains behind the ambitious event.
She plans to shine a light on our TV talent while also driving change to help salvage the crisis-hit industry.
Screenwriter Claire Duffy has high hopes for Scottish TV.[/caption]
Fans were devastated when it was announced River City was ending.[/caption]
With the recent axing of long-running BBC soap River City, there seems no better time to shake up the showbiz sector, which Claire insists is leaving Scottish talent behind.
Ahead of the fest, which will run from May 29 to June 1, the industry expert writes on why time is running out for Scottish telly – and what needs to be done to save it
WITH the recent shock announcement that River City is being scrapped, Scottish writers, actors and directors have lost one of the very last opportunities to get their start in the TV industry.
In the UK, you can’t get anywhere in TV without that all-important first “broadcast credit” — namely, when your work makes it onto screen.
The problem is, how do you get a broadcast credit if you’re not eligible to apply for jobs that would give you a broadcast credit?
The answer is — or was — soaps. The big continuing dramas like River City, Casualty and Doctors put out so many episodes that they were able to give chances to new talent and get them a foot in the door.
Look up the writers and directors of any of your favourite British dramas and I guarantee just about every one got their start in soaps.
Doctors went away last year, Casualty makes about a quarter of the episodes it once did and now River City is for the scrap heap — so how are young creatives ever going to get their start?
And this isn’t just about giving folk a chance to work in the TV industry.
Scottish audiences deserve telly that tells authentic stories that resonate with us and represent a Scotland more rich and diverse than either sexy Jacobites or gloomy murders.
We need dramas created and driven by us. Outlander was written and produced entirely by Americans. Vigil, The Replacement, The Victim, Trust Me and Fear were all written, directed and/or produced from London.
The big tell is when the characters — “normal” people with “normal” jobs — live in detached West End mansions.
A bit of creative license to show off Scottish architecture is one thing, but is there not a whiff of London creatives who don’t know any better imagining all property there goes for peanuts?
And that’s before we get into “English wife syndrome”. Watch enough of these “Scottish” dramas and you’d be forgiven for wondering if we have any women up here at all.
They might star a Martin Compston or a David Tennant, but almost without exception, the female lead is English. Again, this is because you need to already be a “name” to get to star in one of these dramas.
But what about all the incredible Scottish actresses out there? How can they become a “name” if they don’t even get a look-in? The issue at the heart of this is risk adverseness.
Drama is so expensive these days that the powers-that-be have to try to make every new series as safe a bet as possible. This means they’re only willing to work with tried-and-tested talent, and with fewer and fewer opportunities for Scottish creatives to prove themselves, that’s going to mean turning to London even more.
It’s not that we don’t have the talent — plenty who can afford it go down south to get their start — it’s the horse and cart nature of a system that’s broken.
So what’s the solution? Right now, everyone is focused on making the big, splashy dramas with millions of pounds riding on them — and nothing else.
Imagine if brand new bands who had never played live before could only apply to headline TRNSMT. Of course no one is going to take a chance on them. No one knows what they can do.
What we need is to build the equivalent of playing manky pubs and student unions for television drama — spaces where creatives can get a shot, cut their teeth and build experience needed for the big jobs.
And it’s not just about new talent, but chances for stories that are bolder and more ambitious than the same old crime dramas we’ve seen a hundred times.
The Glasgow Telly Festival is going to launch exactly that. Over May 29 to June 1, we’re going to present to the city dozens of brand new, exciting, authentically Scottish drama ideas, and audiences will get to decide which ones they want to support.
It’s just the beginning of a new system that will create the thriving TV industry Scottish storytellers and audiences deserve.
The thing that will truly help Scottish TV out of this hole is collective action . . . so we’re asking everyone to get behind the Glasgow Telly Festival any way they can.
Together, let’s start writing a new script for Scotland’s TV industry.
