LYCOS RETRIEVER 
Kenny Everett: Thames Tv
built 117 days ago
Everett returned to the BBC with this wildly successful sketch show. Though not without copyright problems from Thames, who were being very difficult about the same characters being reused on the opposition channel. So Gizzard Puke was invented, which its creators later admitted was just Sid Snot in a different costume. One of the things that made the Thames shows unique was the Everett would film sketches to an audience that solely consisted of behind the scenes crew. This time, the BBC insisted he film in front of a live studio audience, something Everett had never been comfortable with but eventually took to with aplomb. After several series, Everett, finding himself in a Quasimodo costume hanging upside down, decided to quit the show there and then in 1988.
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This British horror spoof was conceived as a star vehicle for then-popular TV comedian Kenny Everett, who plays an occult scientist whose team of paranormal researchers are measuring psychic disturbances at a rural English estate called "Headstone Manor." Once the site of a bloody massacre, the house is haunted by the very real presence of a moronic devil-worshipping coven and their exasperated leader, "The Sinister Man" (Vincent Price, who seems to enjoy serving up the ham). The inept Satanists are determined to prevent the so-called psychic experts from completing their task. Despite a few clever gags and some very funny asides from the mugging Price, viewers expecting a Monty Python-style satire of horror films will be rather disappointed. ~ Cavett Binion, All Movie Guide
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History has not been kind to Kenny Everett. When you consider he was a much-loved entertainer who died far too young, had armies of loyal fans in his day, and proved to be a maverick and hugely influential talent, it seems odd that he has been almost forgotten. Everett’s brand of nudge-nudge “get ‘em off” humour, which was pretty much the lewdest thing it was possible to see on the telly in the early 80s, was as knowingly ironic as modern offerings like Little Britain, yet modern commentators have a tendency to lump his shows in with sexist rubbish like The Benny Hill Show. Which, frankly, is an insult to the man. Just because his perennial stooge Cleo Roccos was constantly in danger of cascading out of her flimsy tops, and his groundbreaking TV shows were always graced with a visit from dance troupe Hot Gossip (a group of filthy-looking scrubbers in rubber dresses draping themselves suggestively over musclebound black blokes), that’s no reason to think of him as some kind of sad, gurning pervert. For one thing the guy was as gay as a window.
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