Robert Kirby
CHANNELVISION
The tyranny of television stations can and may soon be “tamed”, to use the expression of a commentator in the New York Times. Cracking the metaphorical whip will be a new piece of technology, a telly-top box already in production in the United States and the United Kingdom. It’s called a digital video recorder (DVR), and from all reports and expectations, this device, by vastly extending the facilities available to its users, is going to have as profound an effect on television viewing habits as the home video cassette recorder (VCR)did when it was introduced all those years ago.
The DVR is a VCR with bells and whistles. It uses no tape, but instead contains a hefty hard drive able to store up to 40 hours of material. So there will be no anxious wondering whether the VCR tape you’re about to overwrite is one you wanted to keep, nor for that matter the tedious business of spooling through tapes. With the DVR, as with a CD or a DVD player, the jump to where you want to be is instantaneous. And not having to leap up and down to change tapes means your couch time will be both uninterrupted and increased. To top it all, you have high-quality digital reproduction that doesn’t grow old and wear out.
Should you feel like dropping off for a while in the middle of one of M-Net’s blockbuster movies, you may do so with impunity. Pause the DVR and it will go on recording the rest of the show. Later you can start up where you paused, see the rest. The same applies if someone phones you in the middle of a programme.
Other situations are as improved. You turn on your television to find that a fascinating story is already halfway told. Your DVR will allow you to go back to the beginning and watch the whole thing then or later. Another feature is the DVR’s ability, at the push of a button, to replay instantly the last seven seconds of something being recorded a valuable facility in getting to grips with opacities like San Reddy’s diction. One model already offers extra features like being able to record two channels at the same time.
And best of all, the DVR gives the television viewer all but instant control over commercials. The device may be skipped forward in 30-second increments or at 60 times normal speed. Future models will automatically recognise commercials and by-pass them, giving the viewer a seamlessly recorded film or show. Digital wizardry also promises to let viewers remove the intrusive station and advertising logos. The concept of prime-time viewing is eroded by this kind of customer choice. Advertising schedules and costing are in for a major rethink.
The DVR boxes come with programming facilities, but vastly expanded and sophisticated. A programmed DVR will patiently wait for, say, films by a particular director, and record these just in case the owner wants to see them. To record all future programmes in a series the viewer need press just one button. The DVR searches its downloaded schedules, finds and records the up-coming episodes.
DVRs already available in the US and the UK are a little pricey to start with, as indeed VCRs once were, but doubtlessly they will also become reasonable. When DVRs will be available in South Africa is, of course, another question. Several dealers I spoke to haven’t heard of them. We may safely assume that when they do heave over our horizon, institutions like the power-besotted SABC may try to get some sort of control over them. But since the DVR is really nothing more than a highly sophisticated home video recorder, I doubt whether they’ll succeed.
A couple of weeks ago I used the affectionate adjective “cockless” in referring to Mad Bob Mugabe. I’ve had a few phone calls and e-mails and would like to ask if any of the Mail & Guardian’s knowledgeable readers know if there is any truth in the long-time rumour that about 40 years ago some white Rhodesian doctors persuaded Bob that he had contracted an incurable venereal malady, then told him that if he wanted to be delivered for his forthcoming mission to lead Zimbabwe to the democratic and economic triumph it is today, they would have to chop off his schlong. If this is true is it reasonable to assume that in their impatience the doctors threw away the wrong piece?