I Don’t Mind If I Do, HUH!

This is about Children’s television, but, unusually for me, not the 1960s but the early 2000s. 

When my daughter was small, I had the kind of job that allowed me to take her to school a couple of days each week. It was fair enough considering I would have been answering students’ emails at home in the evening, often until the early hours. We watched television until it was time to leave for school, my wife having left earlier. 

Two of my favourite programmes were ChuckleVision and The Basil Brush Show. 

ChuchleVision was a slapstick and visual comedy double act involving the Chuckle Brothers carrying out antics such as moving a piano down a flight of stairs and making a complete mess of everything. “To me. To you. To me. To you.” was a common phrase they used. They were Paul and Barry Elliott from Rotherham, Yorkshire. When other characters were needed, their brothers and other family members took their roles. It was a family franchise. I would have dearly loved to have been in the ChuckleBrothers, but no one else got a look in. 

But it is a sketch from the Basil Brush Show I especially remember. Basil Brush was an animated BBC glove puppet - a red fox - with shows spanning the 1960s to the 2000s. He speaks very correctly, addresses everyone as Mr. or Miss, and laughs at his own jokes before bursting out “Boom Boom!”. I thought the early chat show and guest programme pretty awful, but in the 2000s it took a sitcom format. 

Basil and two children are looked after by Mr. Stephen, a not very bright or successful, usually out of work actor. The children, Dave, who has a flair for business, and Molly, who is very clever, are usually the butt of Stephens jokes. 

The Basil Brush Show

I describe the sketch as I remember it, which misses out a lot and it not entirely accurate. The original covers the first twelve minutes of this episode on YouTube below.   

Stephen lands a part in a series called Cockney Sparrows, a take-off of the daily BBC television soap opera East Enders. Stephen plays “Man With Cap”, and Basil his dog. 

“Fantastic! How many episodes to you have?” ask the children. 

“Not episodes,” they answer.

“Well, that’s still great. How many scenes to you have.”

“Not scenes.”

“Lines?” 

“Not lines”, they say. “Words?” 

“How many?” 

“Six,” says Stephen. “’I don’t mind if I do.’ But I don’t know how I should say them. Should it me ‘I don’t mind if I do’, or ‘I don’t mind if I do’, or ‘I don’t mind if I do’?” 

Stephen rehearses all the different permutations repeatedly for the next few days. 

We next see the recording of the episode, a funeral reception. A regular member of the cast hands around a plate of sandwiches. 

“Poor Nelly, but it’s how she would have wanted to go. I warned her about those eel boned.” 

She speaks to Stephen.

“Sandwich?” 

“I don’t mind if I do,” replies Stephen. 

“Wooff Wooff,” says Basil. 

The producer is not satisfied, and asks for a retake. This occurs numerous times. Eventually he decides that will do, and we see the result. 

“Sandwich?”

“I don’t mind if I do,” Stephen noisily gulps, and snatches the sandwich all in one go. 

We last see the producer asking assistants to  “Get him out of that silly dog suit", as they tear painfully at Basil’s fur. 

I doubt my description does it justice because so much depends on the characters, what they say, and how they say it. You would not believe a fox puppet can be so full of expression. It is the kind of character-based comedy I wish I was able to create myself. 

https://youtu.be/-_bXVGmR37Q