British Giveaway

One contestant on Potluck won a string of cultured pearls for singing I Belong to Glasgow while standing on his head. Others got tie clips, nylon stockings, electric irons and toasters for such antics as eating fruitcake with knitting needles and balancing pennies on their foreheads while taking off their shoes. Like all other giveaway shows, Potluck has a studio audience, a thigh-slapping announcer, a full catalogue of physical and spiritual indignities for its contestants. The remarkable thing about it: Potluck is the first giveaway show to appear on the British Broadcasting Corp.'s staid television.

Comic Charlie Chester, who describes himself as a "British Milton Berle, only with a heart," is the man who was persuasive enough to sell sobersided BBC on doing the show. His only regret: that BBC is still too finicky to let him use announcers who will lose their pants during warmup time. Still breathless over its daring, BBC is also keeping a cautious eye on the show's budget. Warned a spokesman: "The gifts will be strictly limited in cost -- no big-money American stuff here. We don't want to buy viewers." There seemed little danger. Groused one disgruntled member of the studio audience: "I wouldn't stand on my head for no blooming string of false pearls, I wouldn't. But give me one of those American refrigerators and I'll sing the 'ole Mikado upside down."

Potluck may be a portent that BBC is nerving itself for the plunge into commercial broadcasting. The Labor Party had planned to renew BBC's simon-pure license for another 15 years, but the Tories got in and granted only a six-month extension while they take time to think things over. To solve BBC's chronic money troubles (income is limited to a small annual tax on radio and TV sets, profits from BBC publications, and appropriations by Parliament), the Tories are considering such radical departures as one all-commercial frequency for radio and, possibly, two hours of commercial programs a night for TV.

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