Dad’s Army, Only Fools and Horses, Gavin and Stacey, Hancock’s Half Hour… the roll-call of British sitcoms is long and glorious. Yet the first name on the list is probably completely unfamiliar to us: Pinwright’s Progress.
First broadcast 75 years ago on November 29th, 1946, Pinwright’s Progress is now recognised as the world’s first TV sitcom – not that the Radio Times introduction mentioned this; readers were told that “J Pinwright is the proprietor of the smallest multiple store in the world and viewers will have a fortnightly chance to see his progress from disaster to disaster”. In that sentence, once you have worked out what a multiple store is (a chain store), a modern TV viewer will see straightaway that we are in classic sitcom territory: the location is clearly defined and recognisable to viewers; and the main character is obviously going to experience a series of frustrations and humiliations for our enjoyment. J Pinwright, meet B Fawlty and E Monsoon; let me introduce you to H Bucket and D Brent.
The supporting cast seem to fit the template; in fact they are creating the template. The RT told its readers that Pinwright had “a hated rival”, setting the precedent for Captain Mainwaring and Warden Hodges, Sheldon Cooper and Barry Kripky and many more. Pinwright has a family of course, with the RT highlighting his “pretty daughter”, which presumably means there will be typical father’s angst over the young men who want to take her out – a staple of the mid-market family sitcoms of the 70s and 80s. And then there is the fact that Pinwright’s difficulties are “increased by his staff’s efforts to be helpful”; maybe one of Baldrick’s ancestors is employed in the store.
There were 10 episodes broadcast with names like “Staggered Holidays”, “Gone to Seed” and “Strange Relations” all suggestive of a world slightly out of kilter and full of woe for the main character.
But was it any good? Even allowing for the idea that what is “funny” is a matter of personal taste, that is a difficult question to answer because there are no surviving episodes to see. Like a lot of television back in the day, Pinwright’s Progress was broadcast live and no shows were recorded. The chances are that even if they had been, the tapes would have been wiped at a later stage as happened to iconic sixties shows such as Doctor Who. TV reviewing wasn’t part of the furniture in the newspapers either at the time, the days of TV critics like Clive James some 25 years distant, so there seems to be no contemporary opinion in print.