CBC's Air Farce Ends 16-Year Run
After an unprecedented 16-year run on CBC Television, following two decades
on CBC Radio, Royal Canadian Air Farce will be signing off with their annual
New Year's Eve Special.
Looking back over the politics and shenanigans of 2008, and predicting some of
the major stories of 2009, AIR FARCE NEW YEAR'S EVE FINAL FLIGHT will be one
of those not-to-be- missed shows in the annals of Canadian television.
"Our New Year's Eve show is always the most popular," said Roger Abbott, one
of the troupe's original members. "And we have the Chicken Cannon, so we'll be
going out with a bang. It's been a great run-none of us ever envisioned doing
this show for 16 seasons."
Paying tribute to Air Farce's achievement, CBC's executive director of Network
TV Programming, Kirstine Layfield said, "The Air Farce is a pioneering comedy
show on CBC Television-the first of our political satire shows. Over the
years, it has brought delight and insight to millions of Canadians. I want to
thank Air Farce veterans Roger, Don and Luba, and everyone involved over the
years with this wonderful show for their record-breaking contribution-they've
kept us entertained for so long."
In this farewell special, Air Farce will take a fresh look at some of the top
stories of 2008: besides Ottawa's political chaos with Harper, Dion and
Ignatieff, expect to see Barack Obama, Hillary Clinton, James Bond, 賎uitar
Hero', the faltering economy, and much more, all served up in inimitable Air
Farce style. There will be an up-dated film classic, It's A Wonderful
Investment, and the legendary donut shop will open one last time.
"We've invited some Canadian icons to help send us off in style," said Don
Ferguson. "We'll have guest appearances from Ron MacLean and Peter Mansbridge,
and cameo visits from Air Farce veteran Dave Broadfoot, Margaret Atwood and
Johnny Bower!"
The show will end with the traditional firing of the Chicken Cannon, when
2008's most odious newsmaker is splattered in a reeking mess. And then, Roger
Abbott, Don Ferguson, Luba Goy, Jessica Holmes, Craig Lauzon, Alan Park and
Penelope Corrin will bid the audience a final adieu.
When friends and relatives would come to Toronto we'd often take them
on a personalized tour of the CBC Broadcasting Centre. It always
included the Air Farce stage, and the familiar props. They'd exclaim,
"Oh look, the chicken cannon!" and we have countless photos of people
being served inedible prop food at the donut shop.
The Air Farce. Truly a Canadian institution. Too bad we don't have a
Smithsonian Institution where we could enshrine that donut shop and
display that cannon.
They can put it in the lobby of the CBC Building.
But seriously, wouldn't it fit in the Museum of Civilization?
Michael
On Dec 19, 1:51 pm, Michael Black <et...@ncf.ca> wrote:
> They can put it in the lobby of the CBC Building.
> But seriously, wouldn't it fit in the Museum of Civilization?
> Michael
Actually the chicken cannon would fit into the broadcast museum in the
lobby of the Toronto CBC Broadcasting Centre.
Life's about to get a lot more comfortable for satire-prone politicians when
the Royal Canadian Air Farce takes its last flight Wednesday at 8 p.m. on
CBC-TV. Producer Don Ferguson, who has been on board as a writer and performer
since 1970, marks the troupe's milestones.
On May 31, 1970, a small group of Montrealers debuted a comedy show at a small
theatre on Blvd. de Maisonneuve. The group, called The Lace-Up Demons (no one
knew why), put on a mostly improvised performance that was enthusiastic,
under-rehearsed and over the top. One of the sketches ended with two actors
portraying masturbating monkeys.
In the fall of 1970, the group, renamed the Jest Society, commuted to Toronto
for a two-week engagement where it got rave reviews and was repeatedly held
over. In mid-October, one of the original Montreal cast quit. A replacement
was needed urgently, but the only person who knew the show was the publicity
photographer who'd been hanging around backstage. That was me. I was hired to
fill in for a week and never left.
In January 1971, Luba Goy took the place of another departed actor, and a cast
that was to endure for 38 years, 35 of them as Royal Canadian Air Farce, began
working together for the first time.
Royal Canadian Air Farce
On Dec. 9, 1973, Jest Society changed its name to Royal Canadian Air Farce and
recorded its first show from "the Curtain Club in Richmond Hill," which
sounded glamorous but was actually a Quonset hut. Dave Broadfoot joined for
this make-or-break occasion. We had a contract for one taping only. Luckily,
the audience howled, we got another contract and another and, at the end of
the season, a two-taping contract! We were on our way!
Two Young Writers
In 1977, CBC Radio sent two aspiring writers to us for advice. Roger Abbott
and I critiqued their scripts, made suggestions and wished them luck. Three
days later they came back with changes and we critiqued again. They proved so
persistent that we hired them. For two years, we rewrote everything until they
said, "We're not learning. We should do our own rewrites."
Immediately, their scripts became better.
Eventually, John Morgan, Gord Holtam and Rick Olsen began writing the entire
show and when John eased back, Rick and Gord became head writers, a position
they kept for the rest of Air Farce's existence. They've authored what is
arguably the largest and best body of comedy writing ever produced in Canada,
and have never received the recognition they deserve.
Cabbagetown
SUBMITTED PHOTO
A photo from the Royal Canadian Air Farce's radio days. L-r: Don Ferguson,
Dave Broadfoot, Luba Goy, John Morgan, and Roger Abbott.
For several years we taped at a converted theatre on Parliament St. known as
the Cabbagetown Studio. The week The Journal debuted on CBC Television, we
spoofed it and were so thrilled with the response in the theatre that we
edited the show overnight and put it on air the next day.
The feedback was phenomenal. From that moment, we taped as close to broadcast
as we possibly could.
One September we arrived to find our stage had been transformed into a studio
for the local morning and afternoon shows. With nowhere to perform, we took to
the road.
For the next decade we appeared only once a year in Toronto (at Massey Hall in
December, still my favourite tapings of the hundreds we did) and toured Canada
the rest of the time, raising millions of dollars for local charities and
making the best shows of our radio careers.
Hollywood
Early on, Roger and I made the pilgrimage to Los Angeles. We scored an
interview with one of the producers of Taxi, a new sitcom just staffing up,
and were offered a chance to write. We returned to our hotel, cracked open
California bubbly and toasted our break.
But within an hour, we'd decided to return to Canada. We realized that even if
Taxi were to become a huge hit, it would still be just another sitcom in the
vast American firmament, whereas Air Farce was important in our listeners'
lives. Fifteen years later, when Air Farce became a TV series, CBC was
carrying Taxi reruns. It had won 14 Emmys and lasted five years on ABC.
Television
In 1992, Ottawa awarded grants to celebrate Canada's 125th birthday and in
May, Air Farce received $200,000 to produce a TV special. It had to air by
Dec. 31. But even with $200,000 – enough to pay all the production costs –
every broadcaster in Canada turned us down. Finally, with 45 days left in the
year, CBC had a change of heart. New Year's Eve was the only date left. To his
credit, then CBC vice-president Ivan Fecan saw our rough cut a week before it
was broadcast, called Roger at home and said, "Let's do more."
In October 1993, we began the weekly series. Network executives guaranteed
advertisers 400,000 viewers. The first week we had 987,000, the next week we
went over a million and didn't drop below it for seven years. Three weeks ago
when we wrapped the series, our 15 1/2-year average was 1,023,000.
Bidding War
In our third season, we had a contract dispute with CBC and came "that close"
to signing with CTV. The negotiation was a watershed. It marked the first time
that a television property other than sports had been the subject of
competitive bidding by major Canadian networks. We felt that the artistic and
monetary value of Canadian entertainment shows had finally been recognized.
Every actor and writer since has been a beneficiary.
The cast
I've had extraordinary colleagues. Roger, the heart, soul, and driving force
behind Air Farce, possesses a combination of artistic, organizational and
business talent that's rare anywhere. John was our natural clown and at his
peak the best comedy writer in Canada. Luba possesses the one gift a star
needs: audiences love her. And Dave, even in retirement, is the consummate
professional, hard-working, supportive and enthusiastic.
Penelope Corrin possesses a joy and sparkle uniquely her own. Jessica Holmes
sings, dances, acts, looks beautiful and goofy at the same time, and is a fan
favourite. Craig Lauzon knocks my socks off as an actor and is a lovable,
natural clown, as anyone who has seen his take on Stephen Harper knows. Alan
Park has incredible skill as an impersonator and does killer versions of
Barack Obama, Stéphane Dion and Michael Ignatieff.
It's hard to believe that in 2009 Canadians aren't going to be able to see
them, or any of Air Farce's other versions of prominent politicians, as we
plunge into the most turbulent times in generations.
Goodbye
All things must end, and we've had a great one. Most shows learn of their
demise second-hand. CBC gave us the great gift of returning for a 10-week
"final flight" and a last New Year's Eve special – the show that started us on
TV 16 years ago. Our 10 episodes this fall ranked us No. 3 on the network. And
for New Year's Eve Final Flight, who knows? If enough fans tune in Wednesday
night at 8, we'll go out at No. 1.
---------
numerous comments
From Wednesday's Globe and Mail
December 30, 2008 at 4:10 PM EST
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/RTGAM.20081230.
wabbott1231/BNStory/Entertainment/?page=rss&id=RTGAM.20081230.wabbott1231
‘Everything I learned about Canada, I learned watching Air Farce.” I hear this
from a taxi driver, spoken in a joyful South Asian accent as he swerves
through traffic. From the back seat, I tell him that he must have a pretty
weird impression of Canada if that's the case, and he laughs.
Then he explains the loneliness and confusion of being a new immigrant to
Canada, discovering Air Farce on television, and suddenly able to laugh at the
foibles of his puzzling new land, giving him his first feelings of “being
Canadian.” Parents tell us that Air Farce became a Friday-night tradition as
their kids were growing up. Over dinner, they'd talk about the events of the
week and try to guess which ones we'd satirize. Then they'd watch together as
a family, hoping the kids wouldn't understand the double entendre jokes. Which
of course the kids did, but they knew better than to laugh out loud and
embarrass their parents.
Occasionally we're told: “You have no way of knowing this, but your show
helped our family get through a terrible time.” It's pretty awesome that these
bonds have been built through “a clever political comment followed by a
bathroom joke.” For better or worse, this has been the Air Farce formula since
we first appeared on CBC Radio in 1973.
Now this New Year's Eve, 35 years on, the same approach weaves through our
final show as we send up the Ottawa coalition, the collapsing economy, Barack
Obama, Guitar Hero, shoe-throwing at George W. Bush and certain CBC
programming decisions.
-- picture
The Donut Shop regulars offer a double double toast on the set of Air Farce’s
last episode. Enlarge Image
----
Mud will be slung from the Chicken Cannon with Hockey Night's Ron MacLean
relishing his guest role as loader of the weapon of messy destruction. Viewer
voting determined the Top 5 targets, but MacLean brings in his own bonus
target, and the ammo to hit it: cherries, grapes and a loud tie.
CBC's Peter Mansbridge is a great sport, stepping in to join Jimmy and Shamus
O'Toole's final newscast. And there are cameos by icons Margaret Atwood,
Johnny Bower and Dave Broadfoot. Both Mansbridge and Atwood finally get to
play themselves, after years of being mercilessly caricatured by me and Luba
Goy.
Wednesday night's farewell airs 16 years since our first New Year's Eve
special, and 35 years since our first radio show was unleashed onto
unsuspecting Sunday afternoon CBC Radio listeners on Dec. 9, 1973.
We began as an improvisational stage show called the Jest Society (it was the
time of former prime minister Pierre Trudeau's Just Society) in Montreal in
May, 1970 – a hopeful troupe testing our toes in topical comedy. Later, we
ventured to Toronto's Poor Alex theatre, then Ottawa's National Arts Centre.
By 1971, founders Martin Bronstein, John Morgan and myself from the original
Montreal cast had been joined by Don Ferguson and Luba Goy.
At each show, we'd cook up instant improvs tied to audience suggestions from
the day's news, hot political issues, current social trends or pop culture
events. The more newsworthy our jokes, the bigger the laughs.
We'd found a winning formula: topical Canadian comedy.
We pestered CBC Radio, hoping to find a national audience. They offered a
series of short comedy spots, which we'd record without an audience.
But this approach didn't score, and we lost the gig.
We begged for one final chance: a half-hour with a live audience, and we
promised it'd be funny. We'll forever be grateful to CBC producer Ron Solloway
who gave us that opportunity.
John Morgan and I thought a new name would provide a fresh start, and perhaps
influenced by the four words and aerial feel of Monty Python's Flying Circus,
we became Royal Canadian Air Farce.
Meanwhile, Ferguson took a sabbatical in Rome, so we needed another
writer/performer. Luckily, Dave Broadfoot – star of the sketch comedy revue
Spring Thaw and a generation older – was available. When we promised a live
audience and good writing, Dave said, “Count me in.” In November, 1973, we
drove up to the Curtain Club, a community theatre in Richmond Hill, north of
Toronto. Producer Solloway cued our intro, “Ladies and gentlemen, the Royal
Canadian Air Farce. Ici Farce Canada!” We started performing, the audience
started laughing, and we were off and flying – as it turned out, for a
lifetime career.
The first show made its unheralded debut. No fan mail poured in, only a few
complaints about our disrespectful attitude, which was enough to persuade
Solloway to renew us for another three weeks. And then another three. And the
laughs just kept on coming, in three-week renewals, until we'd completed a
full 26-week season.
In the summer of 1974, Solloway signed us for a second season and Ferguson,
who'd been sending script lines, returned from Rome. It was the best of times
– late nights at John Morgan's house as John, Don and I pounded out each
week's script, trying all the roles, pushing the comedic boundaries, and
revelling in the magic of radio's “theatre of the mind.”
The weeks and years flew by. Bronstein left to devote himself to the original
Jest Society stage show. In 1977, Solloway asked Don and me to look at
material from two would-be writers, Gord Holtam and Rick Olsen. We liked their
wit, tested their scripts with our audience, and they've been writing Air
Farce ever since.
Great memories: breaking each other up onstage, passionate arguments over a
single word in a punchline, taking the show on the road. From Windsor to
Whitehorse, Corner Brook to Prince George, Sherbrooke to Iqaluit, we went
everywhere, exploring Canada and meeting our listeners.
In Regina, a family drove five hours to come to the show. We were amazed, but
they explained that prairie people are accustomed to distance.
Much as we loved radio, we yearned to invade television with a year-end show.
Record industry executive Brian Robertson offered to help, and after two years
of a show-business saga more absurd than any of our sketches, we found
ourselves on CBC Television on Dec. 31, 1992, when Kim Campbell jokes were the
hot story of the year. A studio audience laughed in all the right places, and
director Perry Rosemond made it as visually interesting as anyone could.
Days later, then-CBC vice-president Ivan Fecan called me at home. He loved the
show, and wanted to talk about a weekly series. Amazingly, the group was
initially reluctant, thinking an annual outing would be fine. Fecan convinced
us otherwise, and – the secret to our radio and television happiness – he
promised us creative freedom to be Canadian, tackle all topics and take no
prisoners.
On Oct. 8, 1993, we landed on Friday-night television and a million viewers
discovered us.
Fifteen years later, our 332-episode average is more than a million viewers a
week.
Television memories fly by. Prime ministers and hockey stars as surprise
guests, a CBC/CTV bidding war, John Morgan's retirement after eight seasons,
then his sudden death in November, 2004, at 74. We still quote him every day.
Any time we'd have a long script, his words still come back to us: “Never mind
the quality, feel the width.”
Don Ferguson, Luba Goy and I, the group's original baby boomers, had somehow
zoomed from our 20s to our 50s – so we expanded the cast to include a new
generation of talented writer/performers: Jessica Holmes, Craig Lauzon, Alan
Park and Penelope Corrin.
But times and network priorities change. Earlier this year, Don and I met with
CBC executives to explore the future, and a graceful exit strategy was agreed
upon: A victory lap of 10 final Fridays this fall, culminating tomorrow,
capping off 35 years.
Now, more and more people are stopping Luba, Don and me to tell us what Air
Farce has meant to them.
“I'm 38 years old,” says a mother with kids, “and I don't ever remember a time
without Air Farce. I grew up with you guys on radio, and now I have a family,
and we watch together on Friday nights.”
Then another new Canadian shyly shakes my hand and says that familiar line,
“Everything I know about Canada, I learned watching your show.” A different
person, a different accent, the same sentiment.
And just to keep our feet on the ground, we get e-mails bidding (to quote one
of many), “Good riddance to bad rubbish.” When Parliament resumes in January,
when Barack Obama moves into the White House, when the next scandal breaks,
we'll miss the chance to turn it into an Air Farce sketch. But more than
anything, we'll miss the smartest, most loyal, supportive and forgiving
audience that any show could ever hope for. They allowed us to share our view
of Canada with them. And a million laughs for 35 years is a mighty fine
reward.
Air Farce: Final Flight airs Wednesday at 8 on CBC. Check local listings.
Special to The Globe and Mail
From Wednesday's Globe and Mail
December 30, 2008 at 4:10 PM EST
Search me. I have no idea why CBC management is killing off Royal Canadian Air
Farce.
Like so many CBC decisions, this one is shrouded in mystery, mutterings,
insinuations and hints. Fortunately, in this instance, there appears to be no
bitterness. It's all very weird.
During the fall, when Air Farce got 10 series-ending shows called Air Farce:
Final Flight, the ratings were excellent. The final show a few weeks ago
pulled in 913,000 viewers, up there with CBC's two true week-after-week hits,
Hockey Night In Canada and Rick Mercer Report. The average ratings over the 10
weeks stood at 770,000 a week. That's more than twice the number for the
appalling Sophie, at a measly 325,000 season average.
Air Farce Final Flight: New Year's Eve (CBC, 8 p.m.) is the your last chance
to chuckle along with the Air Farce crew and welcome in the new year. After 16
seasons, it's all over. Wednesday night's show special promises some special
guest stars, including Ron MacLean, some writer named Atwood and, as far as I
can gather, an original Air Farce guy, the eightysomething Dave Broadfoot,
turns up and, I would guess, does his inimitable Big Bobby Clobber, and the
member of Parliament from Kicking Horse Pass. Who knows what other larks will
ensue?
Me, I haven't been a big Air Face fan in recent years. Partly because I find
Jessica Holmes deeply annoying. But that's just me. I do admire the show's
longevity and uncanny ability to connect with viewers across Canada.
And I doubt if there's a broadcaster on Earth that would terminate a surefire
hit in the way that CBC is letting Air Farce go. I suspect the situation
surrounding the end of the show is complicated by divergent undertows in
Canada and at the CBC itself. One of the unfortunate characteristics of CBC
management is the knee-jerk need to erase the recent past. That is, the work
of the previous regime. Air Farce flourished when it first switched from CBC
Radio to CBC Television, and the decision to turn it into a TV series was made
by an executive no longer with the CBC. Also, I think the current bosses are a
tad embarrassed by the old-fashioned humour of Air Farce. It isn't hip; it's
just popular. The audience for the show is older than the one desired by CBC
these days and, as the bosses see it, the audience will probably be dead soon
anyway. Some of them probably even use a newspaper as their main source of
information.
Also, I suspect that current CBC management is just irritated by what Air
Farce represents to a core CBC audience. There's a widespread nostalgia for a
particular recent past. You know � when Barbara Frum was on The Journal every
week night, when Peter Gzowski was on CBC Radio weekday mornings, and when Air
Farce, on the radio Sundays at lunchtime, was enormous fun, mocking Brian
Mulroney and Pierre Trudeau.
Me, I don't share the nostalgia. CBC's greatest mistake in recent years was a
failure to react to a changing broadcast landscape, specifically the arrival
of a multitude of cable channels. The days when CBC, CTV and Global dominated
Canada evaporated quickly and CBC-TV was left behind, bewildered and fumbling
to catch up.
Still, Air Farce kept going and the reality is that it pulled in viewers. It
could go on, endlessly renewing itself with new cast members as it has in
recent years. One reason to keep certain shows on the air, even if management
is bewildered by the popularity, is the existence of a platform to promote
other, newer shows. Now that Air Farce is gone, CBC-TV doesn't have 770,000
viewers who can be reached to promote other programs.
By the way, as old-fashioned as Air Farce might be, I'd take its political
humour over the vapid, forced irony of George Stroumboulopoulos any day of the
week.
So farewell then, Royal Canadian Air Farce. May all members of the troupe
thrive next year and in the years to come.
There's a lot of New Year's Eve specials tonight. The most cheesy is probably
Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve with Ryan Seacrest 2009 (ABC, 10 p.m.),
which certainly has the longest title. Clark is still around, but Seacrest is
there as backup, or something. The show will have Taylor Swift, the Jonas
Brothers and Lionel Richie doing their thing in Times Square. NBC's New Year's
Eve with Carson Daly (NBC, 10 p.m.) has T.I., Ludacris, Katy Perry, the Ting
Tings and Elton John. Of course, if your local station is not going
all-American, it will probably have a New Year's Eve special too. In Toronna
on CITY-TV (10:30 p.m.), a concert from Nathan Phillips Square will feature
Suzie McNeil, Kreesha Turner, Dru, Shiloh � whoever they are � and the cast of
Jersey Boys.