Friday, 14 September 2007
My new format to save the world
Each time I step outside of the hotel compound this little fucker keeps bothering me for presents, food, cigarettes (I don't smoke) and money.
But why am I so cynical and hostile all the time? Here I am, a privileged, rich westerner - who could afford to feed him and his family for a year on a single week's wages - and yet I don't want to give him a penny.
If there's one thing I've learn't on my trip is that we really need to engage more with the economically deprived.
I am going to get that sob-umentary BAFTA winning director Brian Hill to work up "Save a Street Urchin" (BUT NO FUCKING SINGING!!) as soon as I get back to London.
I might also get that one man band-outfit Renegade to have Nicky Taylor do a special Mexican one-off called How F**king Poor Can I Get? where she has to beg a peasant family to take her in and spend a month trying to live below the Mexican poverty line eating ants, brushing her teeth in her own urine, etc just to ram home the shocking existence these happy-go-lucky folk face each day.
I think it is good that I have been moved in this way to commission programmes as a result of my week away. No different to the period when Jane Root (bless her soccer mom status now!) wanted loads of shows about home improvement because she and her hubby were doing up their house.
At least My programmes have a much bigger and altogether higher social purpose!