Best of the Blogs: What's up with Sky TV and TVNZ?

Some major questions need to be answered by bosses at TVNZ and Sky TV. Photo/Brett Phibbs

We’re looking back at our columnists most popular pieces from 2015. Today, some strange decisions are being made at our biggest TV networks, and Paul Casserly isn't happy with them.

The bean counters at TVNZ and Sky TV are at it again.

They've axed the Heartland channel, they've mucked around with Coronation Street, they accepted Jim Hickey's letter of resignation, they enabled Hosking, and ... and ... and ... now they want to do away with the best local comedy we have ever had?

WTF TVNZ?

We should have seen it coming when they brought in 'accelerated flow', that thing where you don't know the show has ended and you are suddenly watching a promo for some other show. My mother has been known to emit the 's' word at these moments, although inattention due to knitting is also party to blame.

Now the credits don't match the pictures and the scroll of show info is now in a tiny box off to the side of the screen, rendering the small joy TV crews get when people see their names on a show. Aunty Flo will no longer know about your makeup skills, camera skills or catering contribution, she will be looking at some murder porn about a serial killer that's inevitably coming up tomorrow night.

This all kills the mood that has been carefully crafted by the director, ending a show with just the right cut, with just the right music, leaving you to soak up the drama as the credits roll. Like a ciggie after sex, or an ahhhhhhh after a sip of beer. Or that sense of relief you feel when you wake up and realise it was only a dream and you haven't run amok in Westfield with a chainsaw taking out infidels and helping yourself to non-sale items at Cotton On, but nothing would fit!

That joy is now gone. Ruined, bean counted into extinction. You can still savour such moments on cable shows: Mad Men, for instance, which recently played David Bowie to great effect at the end of an episode reminding us that we are in the 1970s despite Don's Brylcreemed barnet ...

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