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      How 8 Countries Have Tried to Keep Artists Afloat During Panemic

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      #masthead-section-label, #masthead-bar-one { display: none }The Coronavirus OutbreakliveLatest UpdatesMaps and CasesA Future With CoronavirusVaccine InformationF.A.Q.TimelineAdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main storyHow 8 Countries Have Tried to Keep Artists AfloatGovernments around the world have tried to support the arts during the pandemic, some more generously than others.While South Korea largely contained the spread of coronavirus last year — “The Phantom of the Opera” in Seoul closed for only three weeks — the government still provided some $280 million in pandemic relief for cultural institutions.Credit…Woohae Cho for The New York TimesJan. 13, 2021Updated 5:23 a.m. ETIn December, owners and operators of theaters and music halls across the United States breathed a sigh of relief when Congress passed the latest coronavirus aid package, which finally set aside $15 billion to help desperate cultural venues. But that came more than six months after a host of other countries had taken steps to buffer the strain of the pandemic on the arts and artists. Here are the highlights, and missteps, from eight countries’ efforts.FrancePresident Emmanuel Macron of France was one of the first world leaders to act to help freelance workers in the arts. The country has long had a special unemployment system for performing artists that recognizes the seasonality of such work and helps even out freelancers’ pay during fallow stretches. In May, Mr. Macron removed a minimum requirement of hours worked for those who had previously qualified for the aid. He also set up government insurance for TV and film shoots to deal with the threat of closure caused by the pandemic. Other countries, including Britain, quickly copied the move.GermanyGermany’s cultural life has always been heavily subsidized, something that insulated many arts institutions from the pandemic’s impact. But in June, the government announced a $1.2 billion fund to get cultural life restarted, including money directed to such projects as helping venues upgrade their ventilation systems. And more assistance is on the way. Germany’s finance ministry intends to launch two new funds: one to pay a bonus to organizers of smaller cultural events (those intended for up to a few hundred people), so they can be profitable even with social distancing, and another to provide insurance for larger events (for several thousand attendees) to mitigate the risk of cancellation. Germany is not the first to implement such measures; Austria introduced event insurance in January.BritainIn July, the British government announced a cultural bailout package worth about $2.1 billion — money that saved thousands of theaters, comedy clubs and music venues from closure. In December, several major institutions, including the National Theater and the Royal Shakespeare Company, were also given long-term loans under the package. Even with the help, there have already been around 4,000 layoffs at British museums alone, and more in other sectors.The National Theater in London was one of several major institutions to receive a long-term loan from the British government in December.Credit…Lauren Fleishman for The New York TimesPolandEuropean cultural aid hasn’t been enacted without controversy. In November, Poland announced recipients of a $100 million fund meant to compensate dance, music and theater companies for earnings lost because of restrictions during the pandemic. But the plan was immediately attacked by some news outlets for giving money to “the famous and rich,” including pop stars and their management. The complaints prompted the culture minister to announce an urgent review of all payments, but the government ultimately defended them, and made only minor changes.The Coronavirus Outbreak More

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      The Royal Academy of Dance: From Music Hall to Ballet Royalty

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      #masthead-section-label, #masthead-bar-one { display: none }The Best of 2020Best ComedyBest TV ShowsBest BooksBest MoviesBest AlbumsAdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main storyFrom the Music Hall to Ballet Royalty: A British TaleThe history of the Royal Academy of Dance, outlined at an exhibition in London, is synonymous with the history of ballet in Britain.The Danish-born ballerina Adeline Genée, who was a founder of the Royal Academy of Dance, in “A Dream of Butterflies and Roses.”Credit…Hugh CecilJan. 6, 2021Updated 2:07 p.m. ET“It is absolute nonsense to say that the English temperament is not suited for dancing,” Edouard Espinosa, a London dance teacher, said in 1916. It was only a lack of skilled teaching, he added, that prevented the emergence of “perfect dancers.” Espinosa was speaking to a reporter from Lady’s Pictorial about a furor that he had caused in the dance world with this idea: Dance instructors, he insisted, should adhere to standards and be examined on their work.Four years later, in 1920, a teaching organization that would become the Royal Academy of Dance (R.A.D.) was founded by Espinosa and several others, including the Danish-born Adeline Genée and the Russian ballerina Tamara Karsavina. Today, the academy is one of the major ballet training programs in the world, with students in 92 countries following syllabuses and taking its exams governed by the organization. And as the exhibition “On Point: Royal Academy of Dance at 100,” at the Victoria and Albert Museum in London, shows, its history is synonymous with the history of ballet in Britain.“A lot of British dance’s legacy started with the R.A.D.,” said Darcey Bussell, a former Royal Ballet ballerina who has been the president of the academy since 2012. “It’s important that dance training and teaching are kept entwined with the professional world, and the R.A.D. has done that from the start.”There wasn’t yet a national ballet company in Britain when the Royal Academy was formed. But there was plenty of ballet, said Jane Pritchard, the curator of dance, theater and performance at the Victoria and Albert museum. She curated the exhibition with Eleanor Fitzgerald, the archives and records manager at the Royal Academy of Dance. “The Ballets Russes were there, Pavlova was performing in London, and there were excellent émigré teachers arriving,” Ms. Pritchard said. “So the R.A.D. came into existence at just the right moment, taking the best of the Italian, French and Russian schools and bringing it together to create a British style, which it then sent out into the world again.”The exhibition, which runs through September 2021, had its scheduled May opening delayed by Covid-19 restrictions. It opened on Dec. 2, but was shut down again when Britain reimposed restrictions in mid-December. While we wait for the museum to reopen, here is a tour of some of the exhibition’s photographs, designs and objects, which touch on some of the most important figures in 20th-century ballet history.‘The World’s Greatest Dancer’ (or so said Ziegfeld)Adeline Genée (1878-1970), who spent much of her career in England, reigned for a decade as the prima ballerina at the Empire Theater, where she appeared in variety programs. She was both revered as a classical dancer and hugely popular with the public; Florenz Ziegfeld billed her as “The World’s Greatest Dancer” when she performed in the United States in 1907. Genée became the first president of the Royal Academy of Dance, and her connections to royalty and her popularity with the public made her an excellent figurehead.The 1915 photograph shows Genée in her own short ballet, “A Dream of Butterflies and Roses,” in a costume by Wilhelm, the resident designer at the Empire Theater and an important figure on the theatrical scene. “It’s a really good example of the kind of costume and the kind of ballets that were being shown at the time,” Ms. Fitzpatrick said. “Ballet was still part of music-hall entertainment.”A popular entertainmentAt the Coliseum in July 1922.Credit…via Victoria and Albert Museum, LondonThis 1922 poster of weekly variety-show offerings at the London Coliseum suggests how ballet was seen around the time that the Royal Academy of Dance was founded. “It was part of a bigger general picture, and this shows it visually,” Ms. Pritchard said. “Sybil Thorndike was a great British actress and would have given a short performance of a play or monologue; Grock was a very famous clown. Most of the Coliseum bills had some sort of dance element, but it wasn’t always ballet.”Karsavina: An independent artistClaud Lovat Fraser’s drawing of Jumping Joan’s costume for Tamara Karsavina in “Nursery Rhymes” at the Coliseum 1921.Credit…Rachel Cameron Collection/Victoria and Albert Museum, LondonJumping Joan was one of three characters danced by Tamara Karsavina in “Nursery Rhymes,” which she choreographed, to music by Schubert, for an evening at the Coliseum Theater in London in 1921. Unusually for ballet at the time in London, it was a stand-alone show rather than part of a variety program. Karsavina and her company performed it twice a day for two weeks.“People associate Karsavina with the Ballets Russes, but she also had her own group of dancers, which performed regularly at the Coliseum,” Ms. Pritchard said. “She was really an independent artist in a way we think is very modern, working with a major company but also having an independent existence.”She also tried to promote British artists; the costume design was by Claud Lovat Fraser, a brilliant theater designer who died in his early 30s. “I think Lovat Fraser is the British equivalent of Bakst,” Ms. Pritchard said. “His drawings are so animated and precise, and he uses color wonderfully to create a sense of character.”Good for athletes, tooBallet exercises for athletes.Credit…Ali Wright, Dance GazetteIn 1954, the Whip and Carrot Club, an association of high jumpers, approached the Royal Academy of Dance with an unusual request. Its members had read that in both Russia and America, athletes had benefited from taking ballet classes, and they asked the Academy to formulate lessons that would improve their elevation.The outcome was a course that ran for several years, with classes for high jumpers and hurdlers and, later, “steeplechasers, discus and javelin-throwers,” according to a Pathé film clip, on show in the exhibition. In 1955, a booklet was produced, showing 13 exercises designed to help jumping, drawn by the cartoonist Cyril Kenneth Bird, known professionally as Fougasse and famous for government propaganda posters (“Careless talk costs lives”) produced during World War II.“I love the photograph of Margot Fonteyn looking on in her fur coat!” Ms. Pritchard said.From generation to generationTamara Karsavina, left, coaching Margot Fonteyn in “The Firebird,” in 1954.Credit…Douglas ElstonKarsavina, vice president of the Royal Academy of Dance until 1955, developed a teachers’ training course syllabus as well as other sections of the advanced exams. As a dancer, she created the title role in Mikhail Fokine’s “The Firebird,” with music by Stravinsky, when the Ballets Russes first performed the ballet at the Paris Opera in 1910. Here she is shown coaching Margot Fonteyn, when the Royal Ballet first staged the ballet, in 1954, the year that Fonteyn took over from Genée as president of the Royal Academy of Dance.“Karsavina had firsthand knowledge of what the choreographer and composer wanted, and is passing it on,” Ms. Fitzpatrick said. (“I never was one to count,” Karsavina says in a film clip about learning “The Firebird”; “Stravinsky was very kind.”) “There is a wonderful sense of handing things from one generation to the next.”Fonteyn and NureyevFonteyn with Rudolf Nureyev at rehearsals for the Royal Academy of Dance Gala in 1963.Credit…Royal Academy of Dance/ArenaPAL, via GBL WilsonThis relaxed moment from a 1963 rehearsal shows the ease and rapport between Fonteyn and the youthful Rudolf Nureyev, who had defected from Russia two years earlier. They were rehearsing for the annual Royal Academy of Dance gala, which Fonteyn established to raise funds for the organization. Her fame enabled her to bring together international guests, British dancers and even contemporary dance choreographers like Paul Taylor.“The gala was also an opportunity for Fonteyn and Nureyev to try things that they perhaps wouldn’t have danced with the Royal Ballet,” Ms. Pritchard said. “Here, they were in rehearsal for ‘La Sylphide,’ because Nureyev was passionate about the Bournonville choreography. They really look like two dancers who are happy with one another.”‘Diminutive, dapper and precise’Stanislas Idzikowski teaching in 1952.Credit…Central Office of InformationStanislas Idzikowski, known as Idzi to his students, was a Polish dancer who had moved to London in his teens and danced with Anna Pavlova’s company before joining the Ballets Russes, where he inherited many of Vaslav Nijinsky’s roles. A close friend of Karsavina, he later became a much-loved teacher and worked closely with the Royal Academy of Dance. Always formally clad in a three-piece suit with a stiff collared shirt and elegant shoes, he was, Fonteyn wrote in her autobiography, “diminutive, dapper and precise.”In this 1952 photograph, he is teaching fifth-year girls who were probably hoping to go on to professional careers. Idzikowski was also involved with the Royal Academy of Dance’s Production Club, started in 1932 to allow students over 14 to work with choreographers; Frederick Ashton and Robert Helpmann were among the early volunteers, and later a young John Cranko created his first work there.Party polkaStudents demonstrate a dance for Margot Fonteyn and others in 1972.Credit…Felix FonteynThis 1972 photograph of young girls about to begin a sequence called the “party polka” was taken by Fonteyn’s brother, Felix, who also filmed the demonstration being given by a group of primary school students for Fonteyn and other teachers. The footage, which had been stored in the Royal Academy of Dance’s archives in canisters marked “Children’s Syllabus,” was only recently discovered by Ms. Fitzgerald.The film offers a rare glimpse of Fonteyn in her offstage role at the Royal Academy of Dance, Ms. Fitzgerald said, and it reflects an important change that the ballerina made during her presidency. “People really think about Fonteyn as a dancer, but she was very involved with teaching and syllabus development,” Ms. Fitzgerald said. Earlier syllabuses, she explained, had included mime, drama and history, but when a panel, including Fonteyn, revised the program in 1968, they did away with much of this.“They wanted to streamline everything and make it more enjoyable for the children, and just focus on the movement,” Ms. Fitzgerald said. “The party polka is a good example of that, with a great sense for the children of whirling around the room, and really dancing.”AdvertisementContinue reading the main story More

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      The Former Youth TV Star on a Mission to Transform the BBC

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      #masthead-section-label, #masthead-bar-one { display: none }The Best of 2020Best ComedyBest TV ShowsBest BooksBest MoviesBest AlbumsAdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main storyThe Former Youth TV Star on a Mission to Transform the BBCJune Sarpong has been a familiar face on British screens for two decades. Now, she’s in charge of bringing greater diversity to the country’s public broadcaster.June Sarpong, the BBC’s director of creative diversity, says the broadcaster has been “incredibly successful in terms of what you see, but in terms of below the line, behind the camera, certainly not.” Credit…David M. Benett/Getty ImagesJan. 6, 2021LONDON — When June Sarpong was 21 and an up-and-coming presenter on MTV in Britain, she walked past a newsstand and saw a magazine in its racks. On the cover was a story about successful women at the music station.She grabbed a copy, only to discover she wasn’t featured. Sarpong — who is Black — hadn’t been asked to go along to the cover photo shoot with her white colleagues, even though she was the co-host of one of the station’s most successful shows. She wasn’t mentioned in the article.“It was heartbreaking,” she recalled in a recent interview.Soon, viewers noticed her absence too, and started calling MTV to ask why she had been left out. “It was this real teachable moment for the network,” Sarpong said.Now 43, Sarpong is still trying to improve the diversity of British television — just at a much larger, and more politically fraught, level. In November 2019, she was named the BBC’s director of creative diversity, a high-profile role in which she is responsible for making Britain’s public broadcaster more representative of the country.In recent months, she has announced her first policies to achieve that. Beginning in April, all new BBC television commissions will have to meet a target requiring 20 percent of jobs offscreen to be filled by people of color, disabled people or those from lower socioeconomic groups.She has also secured 100 million pounds — about $136 million — of the BBC’s commissioning budget for new, diverse programming over three years. (The total commissioning budget is over £1 billion a year.)Sarpong speaking at the release of her first report in her new role last month.Credit…Hannah Young, via BBCAt first glance, the BBC might already seem to be making strides. Some of its biggest shows last year were led by and focused on people of color, such as Michaela Coel’s “I May Destroy You,” about a Black woman confronting hazy memories of a rape, and Steve McQueen’s “Small Axe” series of films about Black British history. The BBC has also beaten an internal target, set before Sarpong took up her job, for people of color to make up 15 percent of its on-air talent.Away from the spotlight, however, Sarpong said, the picture was far less encouraging. Last month, Sarpong issued her first major report in her new role, highlighting some of the challenges ahead.“The BBC has been incredibly successful in terms of what you see,” she said, “but in terms of below the line, behind the camera, certainly not.”The job also places Sarpong at the center of a political battlefield. The BBC is funded by a compulsory license fee for all television owners, and, though less ubiquitous than it once was, the corporation plays an enormous role in national life, with dominance in everything from online news to toddler cartoons to orchestral music. The average British person spends well over two hours a day with BBC output, according to an estimate by an official regulator.It is also, increasingly, a political punching bag. Over the past year, conservative politicians have repeatedly criticized the organization, claiming that it was promoting a “woke agenda,” including when it proposed omitting the lyrics to jingoistic songs traditionally performed at an annual classical concert.Left-wing commentators have been equally critical, especially when a story emerged claiming that the broadcaster had barred employees from attending Black Lives Matter protests or Pride marches. (The BBC said its rules had been misinterpreted.).Sarpong said she’d gotten “a few more gray hairs since starting” her role, but added, “Whatever criticism I get is worth it, as there’s a bigger mission here.”Sarpong, center, in 2017 on “Loose Women,” a British discussion show akin to ABC’s “The View.” She was an occasional contributor for over a decade.Credit…Ken McKay/ITV, via ShutterstockSarpong was born in east London to Ghanaian parents. She spent her early years in Ghana, until a coup forced her parents to flee back to London, where she lived in public housing.As a teenager, she was involved in a car accident that left her unable to walk for two years, she said. While she was in the hospital, she watched Oprah Winfrey on television and it made her realize she could work in TV, she added. Her school reports had always said she “must talk less,” Sarpong said. “I remember watching Oprah thinking, ‘Oh my God, you can be paid to talk!”Sarpong soon got an internship at Kiss FM, a radio station specializing in dance music. She turned up wearing a neck brace, and recalled what it was like to have to explain her accident to every person she met.Sarpong at an awards ceremony organized by the men’s magazine Maxim in 2001, when she was making her name as a youth TV host.Credit… William Conran/PA Images, via Getty ImagesHer rise from that small role, then MTV, was swift. Sarpong became a youth TV star in Britain after moving to a more mainstream network, Channel 4, where she presented a popular weekend show and interviewed the likes of Kanye West and Prime Minister Tony Blair. She was known especially for her laugh — “An irresistible elastic giggle,” according to The Guardian.But she hit problems when she tried to move further up the TV ladder, she said. She went to meetings about “shiny-floor shows,” a reference to big Saturday-night entertainment programs, but was told their audiences weren’t ready for a Black host, she said. She moved to America, and, increasingly, into activism.Friends and acquaintances of Sarpong said in telephone interviews that she has the character to change the BBC. “They’ve actually hired an attack-dog who will not let go,” said Trevor Phillips, a former TV news anchor who was also the chairman of Britain’s Equality and Human Rights Commission, in a telephone interview.Lorna Clarke, the BBC executive in charge of its pop music output, described her as charming, but firm. “I’ve seen her in action here and it is impressive,” she added. “She’s there saying, ‘We can do this, can’t we?’”Some of the BBC’s critics say the most alarming area in which the corporation lacks diversity is not in terms of race, sexuality or disability, but in the political outlook of its staff. Ministers in Britain’s Conservative government, and others on the right, have used the language of diversity in criticizing what they claim is the BBC’s liberal bias, with the culture secretary, Oliver Dowden, saying the broadcaster needed to do more to reflect “genuine diversity of thought.”Simon Evans, a self-described right-leaning comedian who sometimes appears on BBC radio shows, said in a telephone interview that the BBC’s comedy output was dominated by left-wing views. “You have to get people in who have diversity of opinion, and views, and skin color as well,” Evans said. “That will crack the ice cap over the culture of the organization,” he added.Sarpong said diversity of opinion at the BBC would increase if her policies succeeded. “If we’re doing our job, you will have that,” she added.Hosting a 90th birthday concert for Nelson Mandela in London’s Hyde Park, 2008.Credit…Gareth Davies/Getty ImagesSarpong has mingled with stars throughout her career, but she said she’d also gone to every corner of Britain while making TV shows. She knew what made the British people tick, she said, and that would help her succeed. “You’ve got to be looking at how to bring the majority along with you,” she said, and convince them that diversity isn’t a zero-sum game where one group benefits at the expense of others.“Everybody has their role to play, and it’s very important to know what your role is,” Sarpong said. “I’m very clear about what mine is.”AdvertisementContinue reading the main story More

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      BBC’s ‘Pandemonium’ and Covid-19: Are We Ready to Laugh About the Virus?

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      #masthead-section-label, #masthead-bar-one { display: none }What to WatchBest Movies on NetflixBest of Disney PlusBest of Amazon PrimeHoliday TVBest Netflix DocumentariesAdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main storyAre We Ready to Laugh About Covid-19? A British Sitcom Hopes SoWith ‘Pandemonium,’ the BBC is betting that an audience will find humor in reliving the ordeals of a very awful year.The cast of the BBC comedy “Pandemonium,” set during the coronavirus pandemic.Credit…Andrew Hayes Watkins/BBC StudiosDec. 16, 2020, 12:26 p.m. ETA British family is walking along a frigid beach, treating a fall vacation like it’s a restaurant entree everyone wants to send back to the kitchen. The whole expedition is a lame Plan B. The Jessups were originally going to Disneyland, followed by three days of hiking at Yosemite. Then the coronavirus struck and sunny California was out of the question. Now the clan is making do in Margate, a forlorn British seaside town that peaked decades ago.Paul Jessup, the paterfamilias, is depressed for a long list of reasons, including the loss of his job running an archery club. His wife, Rachel, is trying to remain upbeat and had hoped that the vacation would recharge the couple’s sex life. She packed an erotic outfit and a sex toy for just that purpose. But as the pair stand alone for a moment, Paul confesses that he just isn’t ready for it.“I love that you want to experiment with stuff,” he quietly tells her, “but I think I’ve gone off the idea of using the gear.”“Well, I wish I’d known that before squeezing it into the suitcase,” Rachel replies. “Leather is extremely difficult to fold, you realize.”Jim Howick and Katherine Parkinson, who play a married couple dealing with living through the pandemic, during filming in November.Credit…Andrew Hayes Watkins/BBC StudiosThis awkward exchange is brought to you by the BBC. It’s a scene from the pilot episode of “Pandemonium,” a half-hour comedy, set to air Dec. 30, that poses a bold question: Are we ready to laugh about Covid-19? Or rather, is there anything amusing, or recognizable in a humorous way, about life during a plague, with all of its indignities and setbacks, not to mention its rituals (clapping for health care workers) and rules (face masks, please).Television has already tackled life under quarantine, with shows such as “Connecting” on NBC and “Social Distance” on Netflix. But they focused on online conversations, largely restricting the characters to the cameras in front of their computers. “Pandemonium” is at once more conventional and bolder. The story unfolds in the family’s house, its car and then on vacation — a high-degree-of-difficulty venture in the midst of a pandemic.The challenges are evident on a brisk November afternoon, as the cast and crew mill around a railing by a stretch of beach in Margate. It is the final day of a six-day shoot, and the director, Ella Jones, is orchestrating a few takes of Paul (played by Jim Howick) explaining his sex toy change of heart to Rachel (Katherine Parkinson). Hair and makeup artists hover, a small production team arranges and tweaks cameras, microphones and monitors.As in every television production, the roughly 30 people at work here look like a nomadic tribe with a lot of expensive equipment. But Covid-19 has imposed a host of unusual restrictions and protocols. Everyone wears a colored wrist band. Red means you are part of the testing regime and can get close to the actors. Yellow means you are not part of the regime and must keep your time near the red bands to a minimum.As an added precaution, actors are prohibited from touching car door handles. A full-time production assistant, a sort of Covid cop, is charged with roaming the set and ensuring that virus protection rules are being followed.“I think she’s telling those people to stand farther apart from each other,” said Tom Basden, who wrote “Pandemonium” and plays Robin, Rachel’s depressed and chain-smoking brother. He was pointing to the woman policing coronavirus guidelines, who, it turned out, was squeezing sanitizer into the hands of a scrum of people.Tom Basden, who wrote “Pandemonium,” plays the depressed and chain-smoking character Robin.Credit…Andrew Hayes Watkins/BBC StudiosMr. Basden’s original script was Covid-19 free. The idea was to write a comedy about a family that was filmed entirely by the son — sometimes surreptitiously, usually not — with his video camera, a GoPro camera and a drone he bought himself. The lad was less a snoop than a budding documentarian. The conceit would give the standard family comedy a mockumentary twist.The BBC’s head of comedy, Shane Allen, greenlit the project, and until May, he resisted the idea that the show should even mention Covid-19. One of his goals is to make programs that feel ageless, ensuring a long run on iPlayer, the BBC’s increasingly popular on-demand platform. There were 3.1 billion iPlayer streams in the first six months of the year, up nearly 50 percent from 2019, the BBC reported in August.Shane Allen, the BBC’s head of comedy, initially resisted retooling the show to incorporate Covid-19, worried that it could make the show quickly feel dated.Credit…Alex Atack for The New York TimesInitially, Mr. Allen thought that a show centered around Covid-19 would quickly feel dated. But by May, the virus had killed so many and upended lives around the world in such a way that it had become both unnerving and familiar. On April 20, the Sun, a British tabloid, ran this unforgettable teaser on its front page: “596 dead. See page 4.”“By then, it felt like this huge political and social issue that we had to tackle,” he said in a recent interview. “We just needed to find a way to do it that was both cathartic and inoffensive.”Selling Mr. Basden on a Covid rewrite was easy.“I realized that there was a version of the story, which is about a California holiday not being taken because of coronavirus, that felt interesting to me,” Mr. Basden said. “I felt it had the potential to sum up the year for a lot of families in terms of what their experience has been, with all of the various disappointments along the way.”Whether Britons need a “cov-com,” as Mr. Allen dubbed the show, remains to be seen. Viewers may prefer to watch anything but a reflection of what they have just lived through. If you’re looking for pure escapism, a show in which a doctor on television is heard intoning, “Stay inside, wash your hands, follow the guidelines,” isn’t for you. Alternatively, the show could turn the ordeals imposed by Covid into bittersweet entertainment by demonstrating just how universal their effect has been.The show starts at a moment that now feels like eight years ago — namely, early 2020. The Jessups are booking their flights to California and Paul decides not to spend another $30 or so per ticket for refundable fares.“We’re not going to cancel,” he tells his wife. “That’s just a scam to make idiots pay more money.”The upbeat mood evaporates as the virus arrives. It shuts down Paul’s archery club, rendering him jobless. Robin, Mr. Basden’s character, is jilted by a woman who leaves him for her personal trainer. Now-familiar tensions and debates surface. At first, Paul’s mother, Sue, won’t take the virus seriously, exasperating her son. She also refuses to join in nationwide applause for National Health Service workers on Thursday nights.“Clapping?” she asks Paul, outraged at the thought. “After they cancel my hip replacement? Are you mad? I’m the only one on my street booing.”There are jokes that would fly over the heads of an American audience, like a reference to Dominic Cummings, the since-dismissed adviser to Boris Johnson, who made headlines by flouting lockdown rules. Other bits suggest that the United States still has substantial cultural heft here. When Paul tries to convince his daughter, Amy (Freya Parks), that he is woke, he proves it by noting that he read and loved Michelle Obama’s book.For the BBC, the show isn’t the sort of gamble that it would be for any other British or U.S. network. The Beeb, as it is known, is supported by taxpayers, who are required by law to hand over the equivalent of $210 dollars a year for a license to watch live television. (Yes, watching without a license is a criminal offense, and it can cost offenders about $1,300 in fines plus court costs.) But the show is an ambitious bet. It will air on BBC1, essentially the nation’s default network and home to the programming with the broadest appeal. A comedy that finds an audience on BBC1 can turn into a cultural institution.“There’s a lot of risk and a lot of failure when it comes to comedy,” said Mr. Allen. “But the things that do well stick around for years. Last year, Monty Python turned 50, and the surviving cast members did 10 sold-out shows at the O2 Arena. No other genre has longevity like that. Monty Python episodes are evergreens.”“There’s a lot of risk and a lot of failure when it comes to comedy,” said Mr. Allen. “But the things that do well stick around for years.”Credit…Alex Atack for The New York TimesIf the pilot for “Pandemonium” gets good ratings and credible reviews, a full season will be ordered and it will begin filming sometime next year.Putting together the pilot was, for obvious reasons, complicated. To keep preproduction, in-person meetings to a minimum, several members of the cast auditioned by sending homemade recordings of themselves reading their lines into a mobile phone.“I sat in my bedroom and put my iPhone on a tripod and my girlfriend read the other character,” said Jack Christou, who plays Ben, the Jessups’ son and budding videographer. “Then I sent it off to my agent and waited.”Soon he was getting a Covid test so that he could join other cast members for a few days of reading through the script at a BBC studio in White City, a district of London. Executives watched via Zoom. The Jessups’ home was filmed in Mill Hill, a suburb of London, over the course of three days. The wristband system was introduced, and anyone with a red band was tested daily. Yellow bands could enter the house for a few minutes if the actors were not in it.“I was doing a shoot in Cornwall for another show, and they had to close it down because someone came down with Covid,” Mr. Basden said. “I think that has happened quite a lot, particularly on shoots that are for any length of time. We’re lucky this is just six days.”The last three days were shot in Margate with the actors staying at a hotel where all the indoor common space was closed off. Many of the show’s vacation scenes take place outdoors, which curtailed Covid anxiety. The final scene shot on the last day of production follows the Jessups as they digest the news, read to them by Amy on her mobile phone, that Britain is going into its second lockdown, the one that started in October. Two members of the family decide on the spot that it’s time to end this cursed vacation.“No, we are not going home!” Rachel shouts. “Let’s just press on for as long as we legally can.”The scene was repeated a few times, with the director offering notes between each take. After the last one, the show officially wrapped, and the cast and crew whooped, celebrated and congratulated each other. Many couldn’t help offering Covid-be-damned hugs. Actors and crew posed on the beach for a photographer who wanted to capture the moment before everyone went home.“Put on your masks,” someone in the bunch said. “The BBC is going to see this.”AdvertisementContinue reading the main story More