ABSTRACT

So far, this book has explored the lengthy and complex processes programmes and programme-makers go through in order successfully to produce something for broadcast. Evident in these narratives is the recurring potential for programmes not to be made. Indeed, the movement undertaken by those new writers discussed in Chapter 3 is from being unsuccessful in getting a commission, to achieving that goal. That is, what is deemed success – if it’s not stating the obvious – is getting something made. But underpinning all this activity is a wealth of work which never reaches the final stages of production and broadcast, and instead remains uncommissioned. All of our interviewees pointed to large numbers of ideas, discussions, speculative scripts, and so on which had never progressed to full-scale production. More importantly, the number of ideas that never get made significantly outweighs those that do; there is an oversupply of ideas. The failure to get things made is, then, built into the system of production, and informs all aspects of the commissioning structure. So, while failure must be understood as something related to the experience of creative individuals it is also something which – importantly – is embedded within the structures within which such labour takes place. Failure is a complex idea with multiple different meanings, and it can be assessed and attributed using a variety of criteria. Perhaps more importantly, while it may common-sensically be understood as having negative connotations, there is the potential for it to be seen as a positive force too. The interview material drawn on here shows the range of ways our participants used the term, and the variety of relationships they had towards it. Perhaps the most typical way it is used is to describe projects that never came into being; that is, the failure to get something made. This kind of failure can occur at a variety of stages, from an idea quickly abandoned without much thought or discussion, to an idea being worked on for a long period of time by a large number of people, and yet still not being commissioned. Given that the primary income source for members of the industry – particularly those in the independent sector – is from funding for

production, such failure has significant implications for those involved and the ongoing viability of companies that might have invested large amounts of time and money into such an idea. These failures are ones that can be understood predominantly industrially, seeing creative work as being defined by its relationship to a financial exchange related to a completed product. Such failures, if persistent, are ones likely to lead to people leaving the industry, either through choice or more likely simply through the necessity of finding alternative sources of income. However, failure can also be understood artistically; that is, a programme can be commissioned, made, and broadcast, and then be understood as a failure afterwards. Such failures might be measured via things like ratings, audience feedback, peer feedback, or critics. In these circumstances it is unlikely that a programme will be commissioned for a second series, and those involved must start over again with ideas for new projects. In industrial terms, such projects are not failures; they got made, and those involved got paid for making it, and so as a cultural industry little is lost here. But creative workers, on the whole, also want to make programmes that they, their peers, and audiences think are good, however this is measured (funny, innovative, aesthetically pleasing, emotionally engaging, experimental, and so on). Sometimes these criteria might conflict. Perhaps the most obvious recent UK example is Mrs Brown’s Boys (RTÉ1/ BBC1, 2011-), which is highly popular with audiences, but continually mauled by critics and many members of the comedy industry. Different creative workers typically prioritise different criteria, with, for example, popularity being more important for some than others. But the importance of these aspects of failure and success to individuals demonstrates the personal relationships such workers have with what they make, and that the commercial aspect of their work is not necessarily the defining context for debates about failure. For many interviewees notions of integrity and artistry are presented as more important than financial success, and all were highly invested in making ‘good’ television, however that is defined. So, while not getting projects commissioned is a form of failure such workers see as inevitable and learn to live with, it is artistic or creative failure which, as will be seen, constitutes the more pressing concern. This chapter therefore aims to explore the ways in which creative failure constitutes an aspect of the labour of members of the British television comedy industry. That is, failure is something they do, typically more often than they achieve success. To be a member of the creative industries is to spend the majority of your time failing. The particularities of television production – and the specifics of comedy – mean that the ways it happens in this sector are not identical to those for other genres or media. But it does mean that how the industry is structured, as well as how individuals structure their working practices, have to both account for, and enable, significant amounts of failure. This functions at different levels of responsibility, with broadcasters such as the BBC accepting responsibility for some

aspects of failure, while other components are instead placed upon the shoulders of independent production companies, or freelance individuals. Indeed, it is the ability to manage failure which is required in order for an individual to persist within the sector. The “steely determination” (Howkins 2007: 84) necessary for managing failure takes many forms, such as spreading risks by being involved in lots of projects knowing that most will inevitably fail. But it also relates to the individual and their relationships with the work they do and the industry they are a part of. As will be shown, given that creative work is typically labour in which the individual is heavily invested personally, failure is an event with significant personal and emotional implications for those involved. Failure may have ramifications for reputation, or income, or future employment; perhaps more pertinently, however, it also has implications for an individual’s sense of self. Given that so many workers function independently, to survive in the sector at all individuals must find ways to manage the emotional, personal fallout of failure. What is argued here, then, is the necessity to take into account the work individuals carry out in response to failure, and the fundamental centrality of such work to the everyday experience of working in television comedy; this is activity which can be called ‘the labour of failure’.