Ghostwatch (1992)
Ghostwatch was a ’90s TV satire, and horror game-changer way ahead of its time. Cats in the machine, a possessed Parky, a “glory hole” (don’t ask), Craig Charles on valium, real-life Rainbow character, Mike Smith, and his actual missus, the delightful kids’ telly staple, Sara Green, getting lured into a haunted cupboard under the stairs – required viewing for me since my PTSD-inducing induction on Hallowe’en night, 1992. Watching real television personalities getting offed was traumatising, and I do understand the backlash to an extent. However, I also feel the film was made in the true spirit of Hallowe’en; a clever trick, rather than a mean-spirited deception.
Using the idiom of the outside broadcast, Ghostwatch opens up the Hallowe’en witchboard, I mean switchboard, to calls from the general public, who, as well as recounting ghost stories of their own, appear to be experiencing strange goings on in their own homes. Apparently, Volk originally wanted to employ a high-pitched sound on the soundtrack, which would cause pets to freak out, and for the trusted, veteran television personality, Michael Parkinson, to state live on air that “the ghost is probably in your house,” adding to the illusion that a “national seance” was being created all over the UK. These additions, of course, would have caused an unimaginable outcry, as there was already a palaver brewing without such overt provocations.
Stephen Volk denies it was a hoax or a Hallowe’en prank, but it left young viewers scarred for life, and reportedly led to the suicide of an 18-year-old factory worker with learning difficulties, who, even 5 days later, couldn’t shake the shock and was left “hypnotised and obsessed” by the programme. Although post-watershed, it arguably pushed the envelope in terms of family drama – tales of saliva on the doorstep and the mackerel, on some fella’s shoes, excrement smeared on a door, mentions of child murder, the mutilation of a pregnant dog with its foetuses scattered everywhere.
Despite being broadcast as a Screen One drama, having an introduction using the term “star in,” and a “written by” credit at the outset, Ghostwatch still duped viewers. It even fooled Parky’s mother. It was never sold as reality as such. It was clearly stated as being fiction, but that didn’t help anyone who tunes in 30 seconds late, or two minutes late, or 10 minutes late, to witness an entity speaking through a petrified young girl, the BBC studio firing sparks and exploding wildly, and Parky going “round and round the garden like a teddy bear.” People thought they were going nuts, and seeing things. The sheer genius of showing a vague image of “Pipes,” standing by the curtain in the girls’ bedroom, then rewinding the footage to check what it was, only to find nothing – the shot being altered in post. This technique and a general mischievous approach was what ultimately led to a backlash and 30,000 complaints.
It’s a study in ham and cheese acting; the mother, Pam overdoes it, and so do the kids. The callers too; it’s pretty heavy-handed and frankly difficult to believe it could’ve fooled so many. Aside from some am-dram performances and far-fetched goings on, giving the game away for any astute viewers in 2020, it’s still a staple in the found footage, faux documentary subgenre. It was one of, if not the first of its kind, and executed remarkably well; too well according to public reaction in ’92.
Scarious Artists 