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                     Nostalgia 
                      ain't what it used to be. The 1970s have taken on a particularly 
                      rosy glow in recent years, as a string of ghastly boy bands 
                      have provoked a yearning for the raw aggression of punk rock, 
                      and the banality of so much of mainstream American cinema has reminded
                      us how good director-led US movies were before opening weekend wonders by Lucas and 
                      Spielberg helped to fuck it all up. But increasingly that nostalgic 
                      reverence has extended to TV, and British TV in particular. 
                      This is especially true of the post-yuppie generation and their televisual representatives, 
                      failed celebrities whose only real job is to appear on shows 
                      counting down The Fifty Greatest Something-or-Others, spouting 
                      smart-arse comments in a hopeless attempt to re-invent themselves 
                    as cynically hip. 
                    It's 
                      not the general policy of this site to go sniping. There 
                      are enough people out there doing that anyway and we'd 
                      rather put our efforts into highlighting films we want people 
                      to go out and see. But every now and again you just can't 
                      let something lie, and the recent deification in some quarters 
                      of the 1970s TV series The Professionals, 
                      coinciding with the release of the 'remastered' DVDs, was 
                      just too much. Something had to be said. Camus and I don't 
                      agree wholeheartedly on a lot of things, film and TV wise 
                      – our viewing habits are different and our filmic interests 
                      likewise – but this is one we have always found ourselves 
                      in unison on. For us, The Professionals is, and always was, complete and utter bollocks. 
                      
                    In 
                      a two-pronged assault, we take a look at just why it got 
                      so far up our noses, and at the remastered DVD fourth series, 
                      which found the programme on its last legs and completely 
                      out of touch with the changing times. If you're a fan of 
                      the series and you just want to know whether the DVDs are 
                      any good, then save yourself some grief and hop on to the 
                          technical specs. But if you're up for 
                      some spleen venting, then read on. 
                    Camus, 
                      you're up... 
                       
                    
                    In 
                      1977, David Soul was in the UK (long before he became an 
                      Anglophile) receiving a BAFTA award for the fondly remembered 
                      – but not by all of us on this site – Starsky and 
                        Hutch TV series. Despite having no VHS recorder 
                    in those days, I remember what he said with crystal clarity. 
                    "It's 
                      not a cop show…" 
                    The 
                      audience started to fidget. It is a cop show he's talking 
                      about, isn't it? 
                    "It's 
                      a show about two guys who love each other who happen to 
                      be cops…" 
                    Manna 
                      from heaven and as mannas maketh man (or in this case homosexual 
                      man), the tabloids had several field days painting Soul 
                      and Paul Michael-Glaser as two gay icons (would an iCon 
                      these days be Steve Jobs incarcerated?) I was appalled, 
                      almost as much as you were at that atrocious pun. The box 
                      sets of all three seasons of the TV series came out last 
                      year and this year. You know what's extraordinary? David 
                      Soul got it right. Unlike iconic series found elsewhere, 
                      there were never any 'great' standout Starsky and 
                      Hutch episodes. No one can remember any 'case' 
                      they solved. All you can recall is the effortless chemistry 
                      of the two leads, the entertainment mined from seeing two 
                      actors riff off each other as if they really did love each 
                      other. The series was commissioned in the mid seventies 
                      by a man who simply pronounced (after viewing the pilot) 
                      "I want to spend more time with those guys…" 
                      Perfect. 
                    This 
                      was male bonding sans anal penetration and I championed 
                      it as a teen. This show made me feel a little better about 
                      being male – and I had (and still have) the cardigan. So, 
                      while the US export culturally invades, the UK market has 
                      to bite back. It wasn't so much of a bite than a big suck. 
                      If I recall correctly, the SAS were the brave darlings of 
                      the media at the time and so were born Bonehead and Foyle. 
                      Sorry. I did adore the Comic Strip's The Bullshitters 
                      but Slarek has beaten me to that. So in short, Bodie and 
                      Doyle were the UK's response to male bonding, all female 
                      bedding, action, and strutting hard guys. 
                    Except 
                      that they weren't really. 
                    Led 
                      by a man now firmly located downstairs rather than upstairs, 
                      in turn more famous for saying "Thank you!" at 
                      the wrong time during The Great Escape, 
                      these two tough guys had the charisma and magnetism of cheese. 
                      I couldn't get past Bodie's mouth. It seemed as if Lewis 
                      Collins' maw went to a separate acting school than the rest 
                      of him. I mean, I could get past it if pushed but then I 
                      needed that push. Sure, I watched a few episodes but that 
                      theme tune. Take machismo and blow it out of a horn and 
                      you have "Du nu du… wakichicka wakichika… 
                      Du nu du nu, du-nu-nu-nu-nu-nah, Du nu nu duh…etc." 
                      It was so, so 'this is what you want to see in your tough 
                      guys' that made me turn over, turn off and turn grey. The 
                      two men had the subtle character shading of a Beretta and 
                      the same colour scheme. Gun metal. Click click. Just kiss 
                      each other, for Christ's sake… Over to you, Slarek. 
                    
                    And 
                      I didn't even like Starsky and Hutch... 
                    The 
                      comparisons are all too valid, though, with the terrible 
                      two from The Professionals driving fast 
                      around town, bursting through doorways and waving their, 
                      erm, guns about. Hey, to make sure viewers make the connection 
                      to its American forebear, let's give one of the English guys a fetching perm! Stir in a dose of 
                      The Sweeny's shouty brutishness, a dab 
                      of The New Avengers' team structure (the 
                      younger two kick arse while the older guy runs the show) and 
                      we're ready to "Go! Go! Go!" 
                    In 
                      many respects, this was the final shout of the crime dramas 
                      from a period when the cops behaved more like criminals, 
                      but we were expected to root for them anyway because the 
                      bad guys were EVIL RUTHLESS BASTARDS. It's a formula that's 
                      depressingly back in vogue in the post 9/11 West, with the 
                      rise in popularity of the comic book hero and the 'counter-terrorist 
                      operative', a sophisticated-sounding, PR company-devised 
                      name for a new breed of family-loving, social concerned and government licensed thug. Like Bodie and Doyle, they only know one way to really 
                      settle an argument – ruthless violence. But at least they 
                      love their kids, right? 
                      
                     
                      None of that family man nonsense here – The Professionals 
                      were blokes though and through and women were just background 
                      detail, objects to assist, amuse, sleep with, or hinder the 
                      two leads. The reckoning was, of course, that misogynistic 
                      attitudes would not prevent women watching the show. On 
                      the contrary, the casting of Martin Shaw and Lewis Collins 
                      was primarily influenced by their shagability status, and shaping the two into Hard Man and Captain Sensitive 
                      doubled the show's potential demographic. The male audience 
                      was targeted with equal sophistication, especially by having 
                      the pair tear around town in a Ford Capri, the ultimate 
                      big car/small dick status symbol of the late 1970s Boy Racers. 
                      These guys got to shoot the villains, shag the girls and 
                      drive really fucking fast around the streets of London. 
                      What, you don't want that? Shut it, you slag! 
                    There 
                      is no doubting the one-time popularity of 
                          The Professionals, but curiously I've never met anyone who admits they actually liked 
                      it. I mention the title and I get either groans, guffaws 
                      or piss-take impersonations. Hardly surprising – many of 
                      the character traits of the two leads had passed into cliché 
                      even before the show began, and by season 4 they were the stock-in-trade 
                      of every cop piss-take you'd care to mention.  
                    But it was 
                      The Comic Strip who most effectively spoke for a generation 
                      of weary viewers when, in 1984, they unleashed The 
                        Bullshitters. Now 
                      unless you're on the same wavelength as us (and of similar 
                      vintage), you'll have no idea just what a glorious thing 
                          The Bullshitters was when it first appeared. 
                      A direct response to the hilarious macho crap on display 
                      here, it starred Keith Allen and Peter Richardson as Bonehead 
                      and Foyle and Robbie Coltraine as Commander Jackson (an 
                      obvious name gag, but still appreciated at the time), a 
                      dab hand at giving lessons on how tough TV cops should get 
                      into cars. Emasculated from their guns, fast cars and even 
                      their trousers, the pair ran about London dressed in leather jockstraps and armed only with bus passes, lampooning the show's phallic 
                      symbolism and openly celebrating its underlying homo-eroticism 
                      in a way that made it impossible to take a single episode 
                      of the original seriously ever again. Not that many of us 
                      could anyway. 
                    The Professionals lasted five seasons and by the fourth it was in complete 
                      nose dive. Doyle was increasing played as a closet sophisticate 
                      to Bodie's overly blokey geezer, and the cracks in the acting 
                      team  were really starting to show (something also 
                      nicely sent up in The Bullshitters). This 
                      was effectively illustrated by the two lead performers' post-Professionals 
                        work – as Martin Shaw moved on to Dennis Potter 
                      and a solid role as Robert Falcon Scott in the criminally 
                      unseen series, The Last Place on Earth, Lewis Collins 
                      tried to milk the hard bastard persona as SAS Captain Peter 
                      Skellen in the execrable 1982 Who Dares Wins, 
                      which also prompted a TV comedy response. 
                    By 
                      series 4, the writers were running out of things to do with 
                      Bodie's largely one-dimensional character and had turned 
                      him into almost a virtual parody of himself. After the terrible two have 
                      killed yet another suspect, team leader Cowley barks "I 
                      wanted him alive! I told you!" only to have Bodie yell 
                      back "Yeah, well that's about all you did tell us!" 
                      It goes on in the same vein. "The last thing I wanted 
                      was any shooting," says Cowley, which prompts Bodie 
                      to explode with "Oh yeah? Well why didn't you tell 
                      him that?!" Oh lordy. 
                      
                    But 
                      most of all, The Professionals was finding 
                      itself increasingly out of touch with changing social attitudes 
                      to issues of gender and race, the last gasp of bloke-ism 
                      in a world where a sizeable portion of society was becoming 
                      rightly intolerant of the sort of outmoded attitudes being espoused 
                      by the show. Thus, when Bodie receives 
                      a reprimanding look from Cowley for saying "I met the 
                      spade," and corrects himself wearily with "the black 
                      gentleman," there the sense not that he is in the 
                      wrong, but that he is winking at a portion of the audience 
                      that still to this day believes that anti-racist attitudes 
                      are the result of enforced political correctness. 
                    This 
                      reached its nadir in the notorious episode Takeaway, 
                      in which the show's clumsy attempts to recognise changing 
                      times blew up in its face. Acknowledging the multi-racial 
                      face of modern Britain, Doyle's girlfriend-of-the-week here 
                      was Hong Kong detective Esther, on loan to CI5 to work on 
                      a heroin trafficking case. She supplies the team with suggestions 
                      for strategy, and in perhaps the show's most blatant moment 
                      of stupidity, tells them "There are 50,000 Chinese 
                      in London. That's 50,000 potential couriers." Yes, 
                      you heard that right. According to the makers of The 
                      Professionals, every Chinese person living in London 
                      is a potential drug courier. In the week following the 
                      episode's airing there were some very negative press stories 
                      and considerable anger in parts of the Chinese community, 
                      one of whom staged a protest outside of the London Weekend 
                      TV studio, armed with a placard identifying himself as "One 
                      of 50,000." 
                    From 
                      that point on the show was effectively doomed, disconnected 
                      from a viewing public that was finding it's attitudes and 
                      characters archaic and even a little camp. And yet here 
                      it is, on DVD, and it's selling. Though likely riding on the current wave 
                      of 1970s nostalgia, it may also be finding favour with the 
                      members of what has become known as Lad Culture, a grim 
                      celebration of the sort of attitudes you'd hope had been 
                      left behind in the 80s but depressingly seem to be back 
                      in some sort of wanker vogue. So even if you've never heard 
                      of the programme, there's actually a possibility you'll rather 
                      like it. You can start yourself off with these five little 
                      questions: 
                    
                      
                        - Do 
                          you drive, or aspire to drive, a sporty-looking 
                          BMW and accelerate really fast when you turn out 
                          of a side road and then slam on your brakes when 
                          you reach the slower-moving car in front?
 
                        - Have 
                          you ever said "I'm not racist, but..."?
 
                        - Do 
                          you believe this whole male/female equality thing 
                          has gone too far and that men should behave like 
                          MEN?
 
                        - Do 
                          you refer to women as "birds"?
 
                        - Do 
                          you think Jeremy Clarkson is an enigmatic TV personality 
                          who talks a lot of sense?
 
                       
                     
                    If you answered 'yes' to all five, then The Professionals may be right up your alley. 
                     
                    
                    According 
                      to the IMDB The Professionals was shot 
                      on 35mm, which actually surprised me considering how grubby 
                      it sometimes looked on TV in the past. Contender's remastered 
                      DVD set of series 4 shows a marked improvement in picture 
                      quality, with a very good level of detail, generally solid 
                      black levels (though sometimes at the expense of shadow 
                      detail) and decent colour, although some episodes fare better 
                      than others on all of these points. The prints are also, 
                      with the exception of a few dust spots here and there, remarkably 
                      clean. Grain is evident, but rarely intrusive. On the whole 
                      a decent job. 
                    The 
                      Dolby 2.0 mono track shows its age in terms of its dynamic 
                      range, but is otherwise fine, with no nasty pops or distortion. 
                    
                    Nothing 
                      here. If you're buying this it's for the show only. I'm 
                      sure fans would have loved some retrospective interviews 
                      with the leads. 
                    
                    We 
                      see no reason to blather on further. If you like the show 
                      then you'll like the disks, if you didn't then this is the 
                      series that will really piss you off, and if you haven't 
                      seen it, well, you're on your own. For us it remains part 
                      of a past we happily left back in the 1970s. Now come on, 
                      Let's GO! 
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