sashinka | observation orientated, with a twist of lime | a blog

Stop messing around with the characters, ferchrissakes
I genuinely do have better things to do, but I got a real bee in my bonnet about the Chalfen/Malfen dilemma in last night's White Teeth. To save you scrolling down, the Chalfen family (white, middle class, Marcus and Joyce, son Josh) were introduced in last night's second episode, and they've morphed into the Malfens. I'm outraged: how did this happen?

I discussed this with Z (and for the record, that's not Zadie) this morning, and she was equally perturbed. Fictional characters, while being - obviously - fictional, do take on a life of their own. You never see a TV adaptation of Emma where she's called Natasha because it's more contemporary, or any other such playing around with fictional reality. And as someone who has changed her name herself, I know how confusing/perturbing/disturbing it can be to onlookers, and I'm not a fictional character. As far as I know.

So Z thought maybe there was someone called Chalfen in the production company or something. Maybe, but there may well have been someone with the family name Iqbal too, and that name hasn't been changed. Why would someone do that? What's the point? What does it acheive?

So I'm lying in bed, enjoying the fast-paced drama, the perfect period detail and the fabulous casting, and suddenly, at the PTA meeting, it's the Malfens who congratulate Samad on his harvest festival win. I jump out of bed. Malfens! Malfens? Who are they? Are they the Chalfens in some parallel, dyslexic universe? I started disbelieving all the other elements of the programme. What next? London's too expensive, let's film it in Leeds. It's really about the seventies, yeah? Let's turn it into one of those "I remember 1973" saturday night shows.

This morning, I thought I'd find out. I call Channel 4, where they only put you through to an enquiry helpline, who clearly had no idea what I was talking about, and said "the producers had good reasons for doing it." I'm sure they do, I just want to know what they are. No, they can't give me the production company's phone number. They gave me their (incorrect) name and (incorrect) address, and eventually I find Company Pictures, not Productions, through a helpful bloke at PACT. Through some judicious googling, I know all the executives names.

So I call up Company - aside: it's a bit like being at University College, Oxford, or living on the road called Belsize Park - and speak to a charmingly well-educated media-stylee bloke, whose name I didn't get. Hindsight is a wonderful thing. I explain my question and ask to speak to George Faber, the executive producer. He says George is very busy, and talks to me some more. He wasn't aware the name had been changed. No, he doesn't know why. There's a tube strike today. I agree; there clearly is a tube strike (but I'm OK, I have a bus stop outside my house). He asks me who I am, and I describe myself as an "independent writer" and the journalist alarm goes off in his head, and he tells me to talk to Channel 4 publicity. I explain that Channel 4 had suggested I contact them, and he tells me that they're all crazy because of the tube strike and George is too busy to talk to me. I am halfway through saying that surely a tube strike means there are less people to talk to on the phone, as no-one else can get to their office either, when he hangs up on me.

Optionless, I call Channel 4 press and publicity, and get through to a nice woman called Audix, who seems to work in most big companies nowadays. She takes my message, but I'm pretty sure no-one'll call me back.

So: no answer. No resolution. Should I try again with George or just try and sell this story to a real newspaper?