THE whole premise of The Conspiracy Files , indeed of any conspiracy theory, can be summed up in three words: OR DID IT? Take any statement you like – for instance that a third office block at the World Trade Center collapsed after the Twin Towers du
e to all the fires and debris – and create doubt by just adding the phrase: OR DID IT?
Well, yes, it did, most likely, but that's not the point: a campaigning film is touring the US, gathering momentum for its claims of a cover-up. The conspiracy theorists say that "Building Seven (its undramatic name] is the smoking gun of 9/11" and that it didn't just collapse. Instead it was deliberately destroyed to hide … er, something. They don't know what, exactly, but isn't that proof in itself – it's been hidden! OR HAS IT?
Sorry, it's catching. Well, the programme started dubiously by spending a long time explaining the theories. Ooh, the collapse of the building looks just like a controlled demolition, doesn't it (especially when you run the film side by side with an actual demolition)? Why would fires make a steel building fall down?
And what about Barry Jennings, who was the last person to evacuate? Didn't he say he heard explosions? I mean, if you can't trust the testimony of someone fleeing a burning building in a panic to be 100 per cent accurate, what can you trust? Not the BBC, anyway, since they inaccurately reported that the building had fallen before it actually did, thereby "proving" it was all planned in advance.
But luckily we could trust this programme to then counter the theories by examining the case against: how and when would "they" rig up the building with the masses of explosives required, asked a sceptical professional building blower-upper. Er, well, they could have been planted there years before, said a professional conspiratorist, shiftily. And, um, then many people, from builders to firefighters, were convinced to keep quiet about the evidence left behind. As the claims were demolished, the theory crumpled … like the building.
In fact, it seemed pretty clear that whatever the exact sequence of events which made it fall, it was only complicated, not mysterious: there are no test runs to check what happens to a structure if two nearby towers have planes flown into them. But that won't stop the conspiracy theorists, who will no doubt just say the BBC are covering their own tracks. Heck, maybe I'm in on it too and I don't even know. OR DO I?
Well, I do know that I'm beginning to feel bad for always being negative about BBC3's new comedies. It's like kicking a defenceless puppy – they're such easy targets, so unpolished and clearly aimed at giving young new writers and performers a first step onto TV. But they are on TV, national, publicly-funded TV, and they have to be considered as professional efforts, not glorified student projects.
And Trexx And Flipside, which is a completely traditional sitcom with a mildly untraditional set-up (an aspiring hip-hop act, their dopey manager and friends), doesn't do anything to buck the unfortunate trend. It's not terrible; it even shows some promise. But a running joke with Trexx constantly being stopped just as he's about to play people their new track was an apt metaphor for the show itself: it's almost funny, but never quite gets there.
The overacting was cheesy, there was little attempt at realism and the plot was daft. I quite liked that they broke into song at one point, mostly because it brought back fond memories of S Club 7's old show. But, really, this isn't good enough, even for BBC3.
The full article contains 632 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
