Hot Potato

They call me Hot – Hot Potato. I’m the boob with a tube who knows everything about anybody in this business. There’s a reason they call it the idiot box — and it ain’t just because someone at Sony who didn’t know who Ramesh Sippy was said “There’s someone waiting outside who claims he made Sholay — shall we ask him for his biodata?” And it ain’t because someone at UTV actually did ask Hrishikesh Mukherjee for his – along with his photo so they could remember who he was. It’s because you have to be a certified lunatic to work in this business.

Lemme tell you a true story. A production house decides to make a daily soap. A channel shows interest and tells them to go ahead. Everyone is wildly enthusiastic. The scriptwriter is afflicted with a terrible stutter but he is so thrilled that the stutter disappears for several days. When the scriptwriter has hit episode 47, the channel decided that it may be a good idea to do this as a one hour series instead of half an hour. The writer’s stutter becomes apronounced stammer and he struggle through to episode 23 – when the channel decides that maybe this isn’t daily material at all – is should be converted to a weekly. The writer gets back to work, but the trauma has rendered him completely inarticulate. The director is given the job of narrating, since the writer is stammering so badly, he can hardly get a word out. Three weeks later the channel says that may be the show should be half an hour after all, a weekly. The director, inspired by his own narrating, has decided to write it himself, and has sacked the writer. The writer has grown a beard and refused to speak any longer. And the show is on air. Wouldn’t you love to know which one!

Me? I’m just here for the small potatoes. Join me if you want to know the behind the scene of the small screen. Until next time. See ya later – sez the potater.

Watch out for Hot Potato on the first Saturday of every month, same place, same time.