As the government struggles with coronavirus restrictions, the TV industry is hanging by a thread

Hello tier 2 and goodbye to seeing friends and family indoors. It’s lockdown by any other name, only this time the pubs and restaurants are still open on the high street and crying out for customers who aren’t sure whether they should brave it or not. Honestly, who can blame these businesses for thinking that they’re being set up to fail? “You can open but no one can come” seems to be the message.

The three-tier system has been much derided since it was announced last week, because it’s as messy and as complicated as those newfangled wedding cakes offering a different flavour on each level: mango and guava, coconut and spiced rum or white chocolate ganache? Sorry, which one’s which again? Oh God, whatever happened to good old fruitcake?

No wonder so many of us are erring on the side of caution, after all, what really is “safe” right now?

Last week, I had a brief foray back into live gigging, when I managed to do three nights of new material in a room above a pub in west London. It was gruesome, useful and joyful in equal measures (as “tryouts” always are), but in light of changing levels of infection, I can’t see myself performing live again for a good few months.

This decision is probably based on my own fears rather than the actual rules, though to be honest you have to search quite hard for any comprehensive guidelines on reduced-capacity theatre events in tier 2 areas right now. After some digging, it seems that what I did last week, performing maskless in front of 30 people (mostly masked) is still legal and yet in similar-sized venues, no more than 15 are allowed to gather for a wedding reception, regardless of how many flavours and tiers in the cake. Confused? Very. And in the meantime, our careers and livelihoods hang by a thread.

In less than three weeks, I’m meant to start a nice afternoon telly job filming in tier 2 (coconut and spiced rum) Manchester. Will that happen? I have no idea.

Apparently, all the precautions that can be made are being made, short of forming the sort of pandemic-free bubble that Bake Off managed so brilliantly over the summer. This involved mass Covid testing and the provision of a self-contained biosphere for the 120 production staff plus the cast and contestants, who were essentially sealed off from the rest of the world in a safe hotel for six weeks. Unlike footballers, it seems we can rely on bakers not to break any curfews and the series was successfully completed without incident. 

Strictly has followed suit and, despite a scare when one of its contestants tested positive some weeks ago, it has also managed to grace our screens again. Although, unlike Bake Off, which is blessedly free from pandemic chat, Strictly gives us constant reminders about its Covid safety rules and regs and the sight of the scaled-down, masked-up audience is a salutary and somewhat unwelcome sight. Personally, I reckon it would have looked better had they reconfigured the studio and done away with all those empty seats, but nitpicking aside, it’s still great to have it back. Though, as suggested on Twitter, maybe sequined masks should be provided for any studio guests in future?

From what I can gather, very similar filming bubble measures are being made for I’m a Celebrity, though whether Wales, where the new series is being filmed, will allow anyone to travel into the country by November, Covid tested or not, remains to be seen?

Sadly the budgets for daytime TV shows preclude this kind of huge expense and the show I’m hoping to do will be relying on hygiene and social distancing, with the crew being issued with special wristbands that vibrate if they accidentally stray within two meters of another person on set.

Fingers crossed, kids, it’s a risky business. Last Saturday’s episode of Little Mix’s The Search (my new crush) was postponed due to Covid infection amongst the crew.

Hmmm, maybe I should quarantine myself for the next few weeks? Because the idea of being the person responsible for closing down a production makes me feel ill.

It’s this kind of uncertainty that is making the second corona wave so much harder to deal with than the outbreak in March. We all have corona fatigue to some extent: the last lockdown felt like a communal effort to pull together and save the NHS. There was the Thursday night clapping and the appearance of rainbows drawn by children in front windows, now all faded and torn.

The novelty has worn off, it’s getting colder and even the cute little Covid puppies have turned into everyday doggies. As the nights draw in, people are going to rely on the telly more than ever, but the pickings are getting slimmer and while this is a drag for audiences, imagine what a nightmare it is for the hundreds of thousands who rely on the industry to pay the mortgage.