Farmyard Noises
Those Archers are a noisy lot, aren't they? The characters in the popular BBC Radio 4 soap seem to find it incredibly important to make a lot of noise about what they are doing whilst they're talking to the other characters. Whenever David is talking to Ruth, whilst fixing some bit of combine harvester, he always makes a point of grunting like a rutting chimpanzee, punctuating each screw untightening with a series of little gasps and exhalations.
If only that were all: the sounds of honest toil are entirely appropriate to lend the correct ambience to an agricultural community. However the audible backdrop of noises intended to illustrate the radio soap has surely gone a bit too far. Whenever a character is eating, do we really have to be constantly reminded of the fact? In The Bull for example, it seems de rigueur for a character, on being asked a question, to first take a huge bite of Jolene's cheese sandwich before answering the question with his mouth full. Worse, he feels it essential to take a generous slurping swig of Shire's bitter before responding.
Even the most effortless and commonplace actions of everyday life are accompanied by this phatic soundtrack. For example, take a character engrossed in losing �100000 on an online poker website. He is usually heard to be humming and grunting along with his mouse clicks. But where it really puts me off my dinner (which, bearing in mind The Archer's customary transmission time of three minutes past seven in the evening, is a genuine problem), is when the subliminal audio-suggestions extend beyond the public realm into Ambridge's private quarters and boudoirs. Here, we are assured a lip-smackingly explicit panoply of slurps and gurgles to accompany any scene of domestic sensuality: the much-trailered cross-confessional kiss of vicar and Hindu solicitor was relayed via high-definition microphone across the ether and into the listener's speakers with pin-sharp fidelity. But there's plenty more than that: any Borsetshire babies who are wheeled or carried onto the scene are guaranteed to keep up a series of infantile squeaks and prattles. Sofa-based horseplay between the resident gay characters is always decorated with gruff ejaculations of manly enjoyment. Romantic scenes à deux are always accompanied by realistic silky sliding sounds suggesting the slow removal of nether garments. Quite fun in itself, but not sounds that you really want to associate with the leisure hours of Mike and Betty Tucker, for example. Especially not now, following her untimely demise.
I can understand that this long-running BBC Radio soap wants and needs to compete with the more raunchy offerings of TV, but I can really do without this unrealistically plangent chorus of noises. They should just concentrate on having good dialogue. I would even be willing to accept more verbal cues if it meant ruling out the noises, e.g.:
I really would prefer that to stuff like:
If only that were all: the sounds of honest toil are entirely appropriate to lend the correct ambience to an agricultural community. However the audible backdrop of noises intended to illustrate the radio soap has surely gone a bit too far. Whenever a character is eating, do we really have to be constantly reminded of the fact? In The Bull for example, it seems de rigueur for a character, on being asked a question, to first take a huge bite of Jolene's cheese sandwich before answering the question with his mouth full. Worse, he feels it essential to take a generous slurping swig of Shire's bitter before responding.
Even the most effortless and commonplace actions of everyday life are accompanied by this phatic soundtrack. For example, take a character engrossed in losing �100000 on an online poker website. He is usually heard to be humming and grunting along with his mouse clicks. But where it really puts me off my dinner (which, bearing in mind The Archer's customary transmission time of three minutes past seven in the evening, is a genuine problem), is when the subliminal audio-suggestions extend beyond the public realm into Ambridge's private quarters and boudoirs. Here, we are assured a lip-smackingly explicit panoply of slurps and gurgles to accompany any scene of domestic sensuality: the much-trailered cross-confessional kiss of vicar and Hindu solicitor was relayed via high-definition microphone across the ether and into the listener's speakers with pin-sharp fidelity. But there's plenty more than that: any Borsetshire babies who are wheeled or carried onto the scene are guaranteed to keep up a series of infantile squeaks and prattles. Sofa-based horseplay between the resident gay characters is always decorated with gruff ejaculations of manly enjoyment. Romantic scenes à deux are always accompanied by realistic silky sliding sounds suggesting the slow removal of nether garments. Quite fun in itself, but not sounds that you really want to associate with the leisure hours of Mike and Betty Tucker, for example. Especially not now, following her untimely demise.
I can understand that this long-running BBC Radio soap wants and needs to compete with the more raunchy offerings of TV, but I can really do without this unrealistically plangent chorus of noises. They should just concentrate on having good dialogue. I would even be willing to accept more verbal cues if it meant ruling out the noises, e.g.:
"So David, have you thought about the problem with the animal feed?"
"Well Bert, I'm just going to take a long, satisfying drink of beer before I answer your question."
(Blissfully silent pause)
"That was delicious. Now, about this silage..."
I really would prefer that to stuff like:
"So David, have you thought about the problem with the animal feed?"
"Mmm, Bert, ulpp, ssssssllllluuuuuurrrrrrpppppp!!! Hmmph. BAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!! Now about this silage..."
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