So last night saw sketches being tried out at the Drill Hall, where all the radio shows used to take place. I think Bleak Expectations was the last thing I'd seen there or maybe it was Zombie Poppins. Nowadays of course everything's recorded in front of the wrought-iron griffins at Portland Place, behind catch-phrases etched into bullet-proof glass. The Drill Hall meanwhile was having to take a collection for itself. I don't think it's going to survive, which is odd.
Okay that last one was a bit weird. Of course it was, it was the BBC. Here's Tom Edwards filling another thirty seconds. It's good to see Tom's face again. And his tiny tiny body:
(Alright I didn't. It's somebody's silent home movies of the BBC at Alexandra Palace in 1938, just before the War, which makes the sudden unambiguous show of military strength about four minutes in particularly interesting. The overall effect is sort of hypnotically horrible, at least when set against the Hollywood here being imitated, but a fitting accompaniment perhaps to Des O'Connor's cover of "Drive"):