A Brief History of the Golden Age of Children's TV: Puppets and Animation

To mark the release on DVD and Blu-ray of new restorations from the original negative of all 39 episodes in the Trumptonshire series, Cinema Paradiso reflects on a golden age of animated children's television in the 1960s and 70s.

At 3pm on Saturday 24 April 1937, Zenora the Clown became the first performer on a British television programme specifically designed for younger viewers when he headlined For the Children. Even when the BBC only transmitted for one hour in the afternoon and another between 9-10pm, this seemed like a stingy allocation, especially as BBC radio had been broadcasting Children's Hour with Derek 'Uncle Mac' McCulloch from 5pm each weekday since 1922. But the new show wasn't on air for very long, as television was suspended throughout the Second World War.

When normal service was resumed on 9 June 1946, For the Children doubled its running time and soon had its first superstar. Created by Fred Tickner, Muffin the Mule might have been dubbed by Annette Mills (the older sister of actor John Mills), but he started out as a nameless member of the Hogarth Puppet Theatre. When Mills noticed that the top of her grand piano looked like a little stage, she asked married puppeteers Ann Hogarth and Jan Bussell to move Muffin's hooves so that he appeared to be dancing.

Viewers weren't bothered that Muffin's strings were readily visible, as they were too entranced by having Muffin and friends Poppy the Parrot, Sally the Sea Lion, Peregrine the Penguin, Kirri the Kiwi, Zebbie the Zebra, Hubert the Hippopotamus, Katy the Kangaroo, Louise the Lamb, Oswald the Ostrich, and Morris and Doris the field mice in their living rooms. Prudence and Primrose Kitten proved so popular that they got their own show. But spare a thought for Crumpet the Clown, who was unceremoniously dumped after a couple of episodes.

Muffin went out live from Alexandra Palace at Sunday teatime. But, when For the Children was dropped in 1952, the new show was recorded on film and, after Mills died at the age of 60, Hogarth took the tapes to the recently launched ITV in 1957. They eventually found their way back to Auntie Beeb after having started a merchandising craze for toys, books, and comics, some of which were produced by Mills's daughter, Sally Blake. Fans of Doctor Who will know that footage from a 1946 show featured in the David Tennant story, 'The Idiot's Lantern', which can be rented from Cinema Paradiso on Series 2: Volume 3 (2006). This aired a year after Muffin had debuted on CBeebies, with David Holt voicing the mule in an animated series than ran until 2008.

Watch With Mother (1953-65)

In the late 1940s, producer Mary Adams was keen for the BBC's children's programmes to replicate those produced for adults. However, broadcasts were limited to Wednesday. Friday, and Sunday until Whirligig (1951-56) started going out on alternative Saturdays. Adopting a magazine format, this was the first children's show to broadcast live from Lime Grove and saw the various segments linked by host Humphrey Lestocq and a besuited puppet named Mr Turnip, who was voiced by Peter Hawkins.

Such was Turnip's popularity that designer Joy Laurey created Colonel Beetroot, Sarah Swede, and the Carrot twins for spin-off annuals and games. Among Whirligig's regular items was the UK's first sci-fi serial, Stranger From Space, as well as Hank the Cowboy, a cut-out animation series voiced by Francis Coudrill. In 1953, Harry Corbett began appearing on SS Saturday Special (1952-54) with Sooty, a yellow hand puppet bear, who communicated by whispering in Corbett's ear and got into harmless mischief with his squeaking grey doggy friend, Sweep. Soo the panda was added the trio when Corbett was offered his own series, which remained a staple of children's television after son Matthew took over in 1976. Cinema Paradiso has several Sooty items in its catalogue of over 100,000 discs, so why not try The Sooty Show: Izzy Wizzy Let's Get Busy! (2015) and take it from there?

With a growing baby boomer audience to cater for, the BBC moved into daily children's broadcasting on revamping the schedule in 1952. During the week, schoolchildren could come home to an hour of enlightenment and entertainment, with an enduring favourite being Playbox (1955-64), which focussed on storytelling. Pre-schoolers had their own slot around lunchtime, which was designed to be a televisual companion to the much-loved radio series, Listen With Mother (1950-82).

Although Watch With Mother began transmitting in 1953, the BBC had started experimenting with an early afternoon slot for toddlers three years earlier. Such was the success of four trial films featuring a puppet in a stripy blue clown suit named Andy Pandy that Auntie repeated them on Tuesdays under the title, For the Very Young. In 1952, Freda Lingstrom, the Head of Children's Programmes, announced that The Flower Pot Men, would be added to the roster, along with Sugar Plum Fairy and the furry friends, Diggle and Flick.

Named to discourage parents from simply plonking their offspring in front of the box, Watch With Mother was initially limited to Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. But, in September 1955, it became a weekday fixture, perhaps to see off competition from the newly launched commercial channel, ITV. Indeed, Patricia Driscoll, the first host of Picture Book (1955-65), was lured away by the rival network to play Maid Marian in The Adventures of Robin Hood (1955-59). Her episodes were recycled each Monday until Vera McKechnie took over the mix of stories and handicrafts in 1963, with the assistance of a talking dachshund called Sausage.

Running from 1953-65, WWM's Thursday regular was Rag, Tag and Bobtail, which followed the adventures of three glove puppets: a hedgehog, a mouse, and a rabbit. In all, Louise Cochrane wrote 26 12-minute episodes, which were re-shown until Watch With Mother underwent a makeover in December 1965. As only one full storyline is known to survive, these three delightful friends have yet to be revived in the digital era. Consequently, they are nowhere near as well known as Andy Pandy, The Flower Pot Men, and The Woodentops, which respectively went out on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday, with narration for each being provided by Maria Bird.

Known for her dislike of Enid Blyton and American children's show, Lingstrom formed Westerham Arts Films with Bird in order to produce the first four Andy Pandy stories. With puppeteers Audrey Atterbury and Molly Gibson pulling the strings for the three year-old and his friends, Teddy and Looby Loo, and Gladys Whitred singing the ditties that Bird played on the piano, this celebration of toddling innocence ran for 26 episodes. When the 16mm stock on which they had been recorded became too fragile, 13 colour episodes were produced in 1970, with Vera McKechnie taking over as the narrator. In 2002, Cosgrove Hall released a 52-strong series of five-minutes stop-motion programmes, but none are currently available to rent.

Westerham was also responsible for Flower Pot Men, which also ran for 26 episodes and added Peter Hawkins to the team to voice Bill and Ben, the adventurous duo who emerged from their flower pots when the man who worked in the garden went for his dinner. With Julia Williams playing Little Weed, the programme drew criticism from parents concerned that youngsters learning to speak were being set a bad example by Bill and Ben's nonsensical Oddle-Poddle language. Four decades later, Teletubbies (1997-2018) was similarly castigated. But, while Cinema Paradiso can offer lots of DVDs featuring Tinky Winky, Dipsy, Laa-Laa, and Po (just use the searchline to find them), we can't even bring you by Cosgrove Hall's CBeebies reboot, Bill and Ben (2001), which was narrated by comic actor John Thomson.

Filmed in a tin shed at Lime Grove, the 26 episodes of The Woodentops were also the work of Lingstrom and Bird. The latter voiced Mummy Woodentop, who raised twins Jenny and Willy, as well as Baby on the land farmed by her husband, Daddy Woodentop. The family pet was Spotty Dog, who kept an eye on the various sheep, ducks, pigs, and cows in the barnyard. With Sam and Mrs Scrubbitt helping with the chores, this decidedly middle-class series was ripe for lampooning. But Peter Kay included the twins in the video promo and on the Sgt Pepper pastiche cover for the 2009 Children in Need single.

Watch With Mother See-Saws (1966-90)

Faced with declining ratings in the face of ITV's line-up of live-action adventure shows, Lingstrom was replaced as Head of Children's Television by Owen Reed in 1956. Yet Westerham programmes continued to dominate Watch With Mother until the mid-1960s. However, the majority had been filmed in black and white and the imminent arrival of colour television led to some shows being mothballed, while others were hurriedly remade in colour.

Among the new shows to be commissioned was Tales of the Riverbank, which had been created for Canadian television in 1959 by David Ellison and Paul Sutherland. As the BBC wanted to avoid North American accents, Johnny Morris (the popular presenter of Animal Magic, 1962-83) was hired to act as narrator and provide the voices for Hammy Hamster, Roderick Rat, and Guinea Pig (or G.P.) across 42 episodes between 1960-63.

The series decamped to ITV as Hammy Hamster (1972) before being remade for Channel Four as Further Tales of the Riverbank (2013-16). In John Henderson's feature version, Tales of the Riverbank (2008), saw Hammy (Ardal O'Hanlon), Roderick (Steve Coogan), G.P. (Jim Broadbent), and Owl (Stephen Fry) fight to preserve their habitat from the Fat Cats' factory.

By 1966, Watch With Mother was airing twice a day, at 10:30am and 1:30pm. We'll come to one of the standout new programmes in the next section, which took over Picture Book's Monday slot in January 1966. But, while Bizzy Lizzy (1967), Barnaby (1973), and Ragtime (1973-75) have slipped into the WWM footnotes, it's frustrating that superior programmes like Pogles' Wood (1965-67) and Joe (1966-71) have not been made more widely available on disc.

Originating on ITV's excellent cinema show, Clapperboard (1972-82) as The Pogles, the former was a stop-motion tale of tree folk that was created by Peter Firmin and Oliver Postgate for their Smallfilms company. While Pippin and his sciurine playmate, Tog, resided in a bucolic woodland, Joe lived in the real world. With his apple cheeks, he would inevitably start to cry when something went wrong at either the motel or the seaside hotel run over the two series by his parents. But Alison Prince's stories and Joan Hickson's illustrations presented a milieu with which many of their young viewers could identify.

The same was true of Mary, Mungo and Midge (1969), another animated series that was set in a high-rise block in a busy town. Creator John Ryan cast daughter Isabel as Mary, while newsreader Richard Baker provided the narration, as the young girl took the lift down to the street with her companions, a dog and a mouse. Joanne and Michael Cole's Bod (1975-76) also had an urban setting, as a small boy lived with his Aunt Flo and got into trouble with PC Copper, Farmer Barleymow, and Frank the Postman. John Le Mesurier narrated the action, while Derek Griffiths provided the songs.

Peerlessly narrated by Ray Brooks, each episode of Mr Benn (1971-72) also started in the recognisable setting of Festive Road. But, once the bowler-hatted gentleman (whose first name was seemingly William) stepped into a fancy dress shop owned by a man in a fez, he could wind up in any time or place after trying on an outfit. In 1999, a film version of David McKee's books was announced, with John Hannah as Mr Benn and Ben Kingsley as the shopkeeper. But the project remains in turnaround.

Despite also only running for 13 episodes, Fingerbobs (1972) has never been considered for the big-screen treatment. Also conceived by the Coles, the episodes centred around Yoffy (Rick James), a finger-lifting mime artist who would interact to make bric-a-brac items with Fingermouse and his finger puppet pals, Gulliver the seagull and Flash the tortoise, as well as Scampi the sea creature, who was represented by a wriggling purple glove. The Coles recruited another Play School alumnus, Iain Lauchlan, when they made another 13 episodes for Fingermouse (1985).

The 3-D stop-animation puppetry was considerably more sophisticated in The Herbs (1968), which was produced for Graham Clutterbuck's FilmFair company by Ivor Wood and Michael Bond, the author of the Paddington books. In addition to the 13 WWM episodes, another 32 were transmitted as The Adventures of Parsley (1970) in the five-minute slot before the BBC evening news (see below). Narrated by Gordon Rollings, the tales were set in the walled garden belonging to Sir Basil and Lady Rosemary, which was tended by Bayleaf the gardener and watched over by Constable Knapweed, the local bobby. The focus, however, fell on a very friendly lion called Parsley, Dill the dog, and Sage the owl, with occasional visitors including Aunt Mint, Mr and Mrs Onion and the Chives, Tarragon the dragon, Indian snake charmer Pashana Bedhi, opera singer Signor Solidago, Belladonna the witch, and Miss Hyssop and her husband, Good King Henry.

A delight in every way, The Herbs was still part of the line-up when the Watch With Mother brand was dropped over the course of 1972 for being archaic in an age of working mums, child-minders, and playgroups. In 1980, See-Saw was adopted as the new umbrella title, but it only lasted a decade as the BBC re-reviewed its children's output en route to the unveiling of CBeebies in 2001 and CBBC the following year.

O to Be in Trumptonshire

Having seen action on Gold Beach on D-Day, Gordon Murray returned to civvy street intent on becoming a puppeteer. Freda Lingstrom was so impressed that he was invited to operate Spotty Dog on The Woodentops. Once at the BBC, he moved into producing, while continuing to work on his own projects. In 1958, A Rubovian Legend was accepted for broadcast and, during its 33-episode run, Murray forged a partnership with puppeteers John Hardwick and Bob Bura.

Only a few seconds have survived, which is a shame, as the adventures of King Rufus XIV, Queen Caroline, and Royal Gardener Albert Weatherspoon sound great fun. Buoyed by its success, Gordon Murray Puppet Productions was formed to start work on the first colour programme to be shown in the BBC's children's slot, Camberwick Green (1966).

During development, the series was going to be called Candlewick Green, but a mistake was made in drawing up the contracts and Murray was content to keep the change. Collaborating on the stop-motion animation with Hardwick and Bura, Murray created a small village in which clashes between tradition and progress could be amicably resolved. Farmer Jonathan Bell has no attachment to the old methods used by Windy Miller, for example, while Doctor Mopp is happy to drive a vintage car that is easily overtaken by salesman Mr Dagenham's flashy red sports car.

Freddie Phillips provided the music for such motoring scenes, as well as the minuet that accompanied the opening of a musical box to reveal the character who would be at the centre of a particular episode. Phillips also composed the character themes that were sung by narrator Brian Cant, another graduate from Play School. The liveliest belonged to Mrs Honeyman, the gossipy wife of the local pharmacy, whose tittle-tattling provides plenty of narrative complexity, even though it feels a touch misogynist today.

Making up the villagers - with their ping-pong ball heads and foam-covered wire bodies - were baker Mickey Murphy, fishmonger Mr Carraway, milkman Thomas Tripp, PC McGarry, mechanic Mr Crockett, chimney sweep Roger Varley, postman Peter Hazel, and postmistress Mrs Dingle and her dog, Packet. Stationed at nearby Pippin Fort were the soldiers under the command of Captain Snort and Sergeant Major Grout. Although not as well known as their fireman counterparts from the nearby county town, Privates Armitage, Featherby, Higgins, Hopwood, Lumley, and Meek do have names, unlike the fort's sentry and bugler.

The troops were called into action in the 1986 song, 'Trumpton Riots', which is one of two riffing on the series by Half Man Half Biscuit, along with 'Time Flies By (When You're a Driver of a Train'). Along with a couple of Windy Miller adverts and a sketch on Spitting Image (1984-96), Camberwick Green inspired another classic pop culture moment, when Sam Tyler (John Simm) imagines himself emerging from a musical box and seeing Gene Hunt (Philip Glenister) assaulting a suspect in a second series episode of Life on Mars (2006-07).

Author Alison Prince came aboard to co-write Trumpton (1967), which continued to explore the issues arising from a time of social and technological change. Despite their geographical proximity, there was little connection between the market town and such neighbours as the village of Trimbridge, the town of Wintlebury, or the city of Wellchester.

Being a town, there were more characters to juggle, with the result that several were reduced to little more than walk-ons. An unnamed mayor presided over a town hall staff that included clerk Mr Troop, borough engineer Mr Bolt, park keeper Mr Craddock, and chauffeur, Mr Philby. Among the trades people were Clamp the greengrocer, street florist Mrs Cobbit, ice cream seller Toni Antonio, and Miss Lovelace, the milliner who was often seen walking her Pekingese dogs, Mitzi, Daphne, and Lulu. However, the population largely consisted of artisans like carpenter Chippy Minton and his apprentice son, Nibs. Also cropping up irregularly were Munnings the printer, Platt the clockmaker, Robinson the window cleaner, bill sticker Nick Fisher, decorator Walter Harkin, Wilkins the plumber, and Wantage the telephone engineer.

Beside the odd visitor from Camberwick Green, a rare outsider was rag'n'bone man, Raggy Dan, while law and order was maintained by PC Potter. The best-known Trumptonites, though, served under Captain Flack at the fire station. Thanks to Brian Cant's impeccable delivery, the rota of Pugh, Pugh, Barney McGrew, Cuthbert, Dibble, and Grub became fixed in millions of impressionable memories that have conveniently forgotten that the brigade never once dealt with a blaze, as fire, smoke, and water were too difficult to wrangle on a stop-motion set.

Despite the discovery in an attic of the master reels leading to the Trumptonshire series being digitally remastered in 2011, the 2023 reissue is the first time that all 39 episodes have been available on high-quality DVD and Blu-ray. So, get clicking to rent them from Cinema Paradisiso and see the genius of the Murray-Hardwick-Bura triumvirate in all its glory.

Completing the trilogy is, of course, Chigley (1969), which boldly contrasts life in a factory and a mansion. Winkstead Hall is home to Lord Belborough, who frequently saves the day with his butler, Brackett, on the plate of a steam train named Bessie. Young Winnie Farthing is often involved in these mercy dashes and she looks on happily as the workers from the biscuit factory come out each evening to dance to His Lordship's Dutch barrel organ after the 6 o'clock whistle.

This cosy depiction of the class divide against the backdrop of a pristine greenfield site has prompted some to accuse Murray of being patronisingly behind the times. But his triptych was never intended to be social realism, even though the goods from Farthing's pottery being transported to Treddle's Wharf on the local canal demonstrated the economic interconnectivity of the locations. Indeed, there was a good deal of character overlap with the preceding series. But Chigley had its own distinctive rollcall.

Mr Cresswell owns the biscuit factory, which relies on cookie cutter Willie Munn, Fletcher the loading bay supervisor, and delivery drivers Patterson and McGregor. Mr Swallow is in charge of operations at the dock, where Rumpling the bargee is always shifting a load. Working just as hard in the village are Clutterbuck the builder and his labourers, Horace and Cyril, while Mr Bilton battles rheumatism to keep the grounds of Winkstead Hall looking immaculate.

Trumptonshire is another world. A snapshot of a seismic societal transition that is now itself close to 60 years old. It may look quaint, but Murray asked his audiences to think about the structures of the country in which they dwelt and it's a shame that neither Rubovia (1976) nor The Gublins (1979) have been allowed to slip from the collective memory. Come on, someone. Let's be having them!

Supermarionation and All That

The focus, thus far, has fallen almost exclusively on BBC programmes. This is because it took ITV seven years to complete its network of regional channels, during which time a debate raged about the remit for programming for younger viewers and the resources required to fulfil it. Concerns were also raised about the content of commercials to be screened during the children's slot in the schedules.

While educational shows like How (1966-81) and Magpie (1968-80) would eventually be commissioned, the initial emphasis was placed on entertainment, with programmes either being imported from abroad or acquired from in-house production arms. The most successful of these was ITC Entertainment, which made such hit live-action series for ATV as The Adventures of Robin Hood, The Adventures of Sir Lancelot (1956-57), and Sir Francis Drake (1961-62).

ITC also backed Roberta Leigh's plan to break the BBC's dominance of puppet and animation shows. Keen to establish a lucrative niche in the US market, ATV commissioned titles with a transatlantic flavour and turned to Gerry Anderson's AP Films to deliver the goods. As is revealed in David Elliott's This Is Supermarionation (1969) and Stephen La Rivière's Filmed in Supermarionation (2014), however, it took a while to hit upon a winning formula.

Having started out with a Ricicles advert starring Enid Blyton's Noddy, Anderson was hired by Leigh to adapt one of her own books in 52 15-minute episodes. Despite never having worked with puppets before, he made such a good job of The Adventures of Twizzle (1957-58) that Torchy the Battery Boy (1960-61) followed soon afterwards, while Anderson's partner, Arthur Provis, directed the now lost series, Sara and Hoppity (1962-63). When Provis left AP Films to reteam with Leigh on Space Patrol (1962-63), Anderson and wife Sylvia Thamm developed the Western series, Four Feather Falls (1960), which featured Nicholas Parsons as the voice of Tex Tucker, the cowboy who launched the brand of puppeteering known as Supermarionation, which relied on glass fibre heads with electronically synchronised mouths and six-foot strings, which were spray-painted to reduce their visibility. Yet, for all the sophistication of both the technology and technique, Anderson never solved the problem of how to make his characters walk convincingly.

Clips from these early efforts can be seen in the aforementioned documentaries, as is the case with AP's next venture, Supercar (1960-62), whose 39 episodes were made for ITC and took Anderson into the realm of science fiction adventure that would become his métier. Patented by Professor Rudolph Popkiss (George Murcell) and Dr Horatio Beaker (David Graham), the eponymous jet-powered vehicle was piloted by Mike Mercury (Graydon Gould) and was equally effective on land, under water, and in orbit.

Fascinated by the space race, ITC chief Lew Grade commissioned Fireball XL5 (1962-63), whose 39 episodes were set in 2062 and followed the efforts of World Space Patrol to protect the planet from alien invasion. With a theme tune sung by Don Spencer and special effects by Derek Meddings, the adventures of Colonel Steve Zodiac (Paul Maxwell), medical officer Dr Venus (Sylvia Anderson), boffin Professor Matthew Matic (David Graham), and Robert the Robot (Gerry Anderson) became essential viewing for all self-respecting tweenagers.

Suspecting there was money to be made after the show was bought by NBC in America, Grade acquired AP Films in 1963. However, he left the Andersons in charge and afforded them greater scope to experiment by installing them in new premises on a Slough trading estate. Suitably motivated, Anderson decided to make an underwater series and shot Stingray (1964-65) in colour. He also created a recurring villain in King Titan of Titanica (Ray Barrett), whose attempts to cause chaos in Marineville were repeatedly thwarted by submariners Troy Tempest (Don Mason) and George Lee 'Phones' Sheridan (Robert Easton), who answered to Commander Samuel Shore (Barrett) and Lieutenant Atlanta Shore (Lois Maxwel) at the World Aquanaut Security Patrol. The most intriguing character, however, was Marina, whose lack of speech was compensated by both an ability to breathe in and out of water and by Barry Gray's ballad, 'Aqua Marina', which became a chart hit for Gary Miller.

Costing £1 million to produce, the 39 episodes made extensive use of a giant fish tank and a high-speed camera, which would come in handy for the exploits of Gordon Tracy in Thunderbirds (1965-66). Only 32 episodes were made about International Rescue, but they ran for 50 minutes and spawned two features, Thunderbirds Are Go (1966) and Thunderbird 6 (1968), which were both directed by David Lane.

Founded by former astronaut Jeff Tracy (Peter Dyneley), IR responded to emergency calls picked up by his eldest son, John (Ray Barrett), on the space satellite, Thunderbird 5. Each operation was assessed by Scott (Shane Rimmer) aboard Thunderbird 1 and invariably required a machine carried in a special pod by Thunderbird 2 pilot, Virgil (David Holliday). Missions into space brought Alan (Matt Zimmerman) and Thunderbird 3 into play, while Gordon (David Graham) specialised in subaquatic rescues aboard Thunderbird 4.

The ingenious devices were invented by Brains (Graham) and stored in the bowels of Tracy Island. However, villains like The Hood (Barrett) occasionally led to Jeff calling on the services of British agent, Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward (Sylvia Anderson) and her Cockney butler-cum-chauffeur, Aloysius Parker (Graham). Akin to Emma Peel (Diana Rigg) in The Avengers (1961-91), Lady Penelope allowed the Andersons to cash in on the cachet for all things British after The Beatles conquered America and the 60s started to swing. The majority of FAB call-outs, however, involved malfunctioning technology and the imperilment of innocent lives, topics that were highly unusual for children's television at the time.

Shortly after AP Films changed its name to Century 21 Cinema Productions, the Andersons started having marital difficulties. Moreover, a dramatic slump in US ratings led to Grade cancelling Thunderbirds in the hope that a new series might hit the mark. The replacement was Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons (1967-68), which ran for 32 episodes of 25 minutes each. Set in 2068, the series charted the struggle for control of Earth between Spectrum and Martian invaders who enlist the dead to their sinister cause. Led from Cloudbase by Colonel White (Donald Grey) and Lieutenant Green (Cy Grant), Spectrum's agents were given colour codenames. Captains Blue, Ochre, Magenta, Grey, and Fawn were mere mortals. But Captain Scarlet (Francis Matthews) had become indestructible after acquiring the Mysteron ability to retrometabolise and is, therefore, able to survive the nefarious plans hatched by sleeper agent, Captain Black (Donald Grey).

Abetted by Angel Interceptor pilots Symphony (Janna Hill), Melody (Sylvia Anderson), Rhapsody, and Destiny (both Liz Morgan), Scarlet battled destruction and death with courage and resourcefulness. But the themes were too dark for teatime audiences and Grade asked Anderson to come up with something more child-friendly. The result was Joe 90 (1968-69), which centred on a nine year-old boy (Len Jones), whose father, Professor Ian McClaine (Rupert Davies), had invented a super computer that can reprogramme the boy's brain with the expertise required to handle any crisis. Although this Junior James Bond-like show ran for 30 episodes, it struggled to capture the attention of younger viewers, whose parents had misgivings about scenarios in which a child is dispatched to liquidate terrorists.

For all his success, Anderson had hated working with puppets and wanted to direct more live-action features like Crossroads in Crime (1960) and Journey to the Far Side of the Sun (aka Doppelgänger, 1969). Consequently, he combined the formats in The Secret Service (1969), which starred gobbledygook comedian Stanley Unwin as a country vicar who was really an undercover spy. Grade cancelled the series after 13 episodes and let Anderson tackle more grown-up fare in UFO (1970-71), The Protectors (1972-74), Space: 1999 (1975-77), and Space Precinct (1994-95).

In between times, he made a return to puppetry with Terrahawks (1983-86), which lasted 39 episodes before Anderson turned producer with Christopher Burr on the cult crime series, Dick Spanner, P.I. (1987). A decade later, Anderson combined stop-motion and computer-generated imagery in the fantasy saga, Lavender Castle. He later found himself at loggerheads with the makers of Jonathan Frakes's Thunderbirds (2004), but gave his blessing to the CGI reboot, New Captain Scarlet (2005). Three years after Anderson died at the age of 83, another CGI update hit our screens, Thunderbirds Are Go (2015-19). But most critics agreed that the Supermarionated original was superior.

Puppet Pals

Puppets played a pivotal role in early children's television. Filmed in close-up to help suspend disbelief, they not only proved reassuring, but their impish antics alongside a grown-up also gave them a conspiratorial appeal for kids to latch on to. Inspired by an American series, Billy Bean and His Funny Machine (1953-57), for example, featured a 'human' puppet (voiced across the years by Dick Vosburgh and Peter Hawkins), whose misfiring contraption included such gizmos as a Dorset-Faucet and a 'cartoonerator' that usually caused chaos.

Animal pals were the key to the enduring success of Small Time (1955-66), as hosts Muriel Young, Wally Whyton, and guitarist Bert Weedon interacted with hand puppets Ollie Beak, Pussy Cat Willum, and Fred Barker. These were created by Oliver Postgate and Peter Firmin, who would go on to create Pogles' Wood and Pingwings (1961-65), which centred on a family of knitted penguin-like critters who lived on Berrydown Farm. We'll bump into Postgate and Firmin again later.

Created by Czech puppeteers Jan and Vlasta Dalibor, Pinky and Perky were high-pitched piglets who respectively dressed in red and blue. They first graced the BBC in 1957, with their own show featuring friends like Ambrose Cat, Basil Bloodhound, baby elephant Bertie Bonkers, Conchita the Cow, Horace Hare, and Vera Vixen. Popular guests included those corvine mop tops, The Beakles, and Italian mouse, Topo Grigio. The porcine pair also cropped up on variety showcases like Saturday Night At the London Palladium and The Ed Sullivan Show. A CGI series called Pinky and Perky: License to Swill aired in 2008, although it's currently eluding Cinema Paradiso's grasp on DVD.

Voiced by Ivan Owen in the style of comic actor Terry-Thomas, glove puppet Basil Brush debuted on ITV in Peter Firmin's The Three Scampies (1962-65), alongside host Howard Williams and a Scottish hedgehog called Spike McPike. When this show was cancelled, Basil defected to the Beeb and guested on David Nixon's various magic programmes before The Basil Brush Show was launched in 1968. With Likely Lad Rodney Bewes, Yes Minister's Derek Fowlds, and Roy North acting as straight man, Basil boom-boomed his way into the nation's hearts, as he became a fixture on early Saturday evenings. He even turned up twice on The Goodies (1970-80) and made a short film warning about the dangers of beach bathing that can be found on Charley Says...The Best Public Information Films in the World (2001), which would make a splendid double bill with Boom, Boom!: The Best of the Original Basil Brush Show (2001).

A dispute with Owen led to the BBC cancelling the show in 1980, although Basil continued to perform on stage with Howard Williams and Billy Boyle. By the time the retooled series arrived on CBBC in 2002 (use the searchline to find out more), Basil was voiced by Michael Winsor and had acquired a nephew named Bingo and a cousin called Mortimer. He also lived in a house full of quirky humans, but slipped away in 2003 to play Dobby the house elf in 'Harry Potter and the Secret Chamberpot of Azerbaijan, which can be rented from Cinema Paradiso on French and Saunders: At the Movies (2005).

Among the other once-popular puppets in danger of being forgotten are Gus Honeybun (1961-92) and koala bears Tingha and Tucker (1962-70), who crossed the Wibbly Wobbly Way on Sunday afternoons with the help of Auntie Jean Morton. Thanks to a guest slot on David Nixon's Christmas Magic (1975), however, Cinema Paradiso regulars can relive the joy of American ventriloquist Shari Lewis chatting to her bashful glove puppet, Lamb Chop.

Speaking of vents, Peter Brough and Archie Andrews can be seen in Thomas Bentley's Cavalcade of Variety (1940) before they took radio by storm in Educating Archie (1950-60), the sitcom that helped launch Tony Hancock. Another cultured double act paired Lord Charles with Ray Allan, who also partnered a daffy duck in the 1963 children's series, Tich & Quackers. The more raucous Rod Hull and Emu's finest hour is available on The Michael Parkinson Collection (2007). But, sadly, we can't locate any footage of Terry Hall and Lenny the Lion, which is a shame because Lenny was so big in the 1960s that he had his own fan club. It was run by Hayward Jones, the promotions officer of the children's charity, Dr Barnardo's, whose son would find fame as David Bowie.

Although three of Ken Dodd's legendary live shows have been recorded for posterity, none include such Knotty Ash Diddy Men as Dicky Mint, Mick the Marmaliser, Nigel Ponsonby-Smallpiece, Nicky Nugget, and Smarty Arty. It's also not possible to see The Telegoons (1963), a BBC puppet spin-off from the radio sensation, The Goon Show (1951-60). However, alumnus Michael Bentine is front and centre trying to keep order in the gloriously anarchic puppet classic, Potty Time (1974-80).

Teatime Treats

The founding mothers of BBC children's television (and they were predominantly women) were keen on keeping the American influence out of their programmes. As they were allotted more time in the schedule, however, the temptation to import items to plug the gaps between the home-produced shows - particularly during the school holidays in the period before daytime television - became harder to resist.

Running around five minutes, cartoons proved the perfect filler, especially after the switch to colour, as classics featuring Tom and Jerry and Looney Tune characters like Bugs Bunny had originally been made for the cinema. As America had ditched black and white before Britain, animated TV shows could also be acquired reasonably cheaply. Consequently, William Hanna and Joseph Barbera became household names in the UK, thanks to The Huckleberry Hound Show (1958-61), The Yogi Bear Show (1961-62), The Flintstones (1960-66), and The Jetsons (1962-63).

Hanna-Barbera were also behind such gems as Top Cat (1961-62) and Wacky Races (1968-69), which spawned Dastardly and Muttley in Their Flying Machines and The Perils of Penelope Pitstop (both 1969-70) before coming under starters orders again in computer-generated form in 2017. Another enduring favourite was Scooby-Doo, Where Are You? (1969-70), which was reworked as The New Scooby-Doo Movies (1972-73) and The New Scooby-Doo Show (1973-76), while stand-alones like Scooby-Doo Meets The Harlem Globetrotters (1972) set a trend for any number of spin-offs and movies (tap into the searchline for details) into the CGI era.

Even the cartoon segments in The Banana Splits Show (1968-70) - Arabian Nights and The Three Musketeers - were produced by Hanna-Barbera. But rival houses were responsible for the likes of Deputy Dawg (1960-64), the delightful Peanuts cartoons that followed A Boy Named Charlie Brown (1969), The Inspector (1965-69), and The Pink Panther Show (1969-78). Cinema stalwarts like Popeye, Felix the Cat, and Betty Boop were revived for television, while there was a vogue for animated incarnations of such film favourites as Laurel and Hardy (1966-67) and pop acts like The Beatles (1965-67), The Jackson 5ive (1971-72), and The Osmonds (1972).

It's surprising that more of these shows aren't available on disc, as even lesser Hanna-Barbera offerings like Help!...It's the Hair Bear Bunch (1971-72), Inch High, Private Eye (1973-74), and Hong Kong Phooey (1974) similarly have cult followings. Equally popular are the animated versions of such Hergé graphic novels as Tintin and the Blue Oranges (1964), which was eventually followed by the French series, The Adventures of Tintin (1991-92).

As puppet and stop-motion programmes were expensive and time-consuming, they were frequently repeated. Indeed, with many households being unable to afford colour televisions, shows produced in the 1960s had long shelf-lives in the absence of any competition from home entertainment formats or streaming. However, as the government eased the restrictions on broadcasting hours (who remembers the test card holding the fort during non-peak periods?), both BBC and ITV started commissioning new content, as the weekly children's schedule expanded from around seven hours in 1970 to nine and a half four years later.

While the BBC stuck to the Reithian credo of entertaining and educating, ITV conducted in-depth research into the kinds of programmes kids actually wanted to see. Like its rival, it invested in series made by British animators, with a popular example being Pipkins (1973-81), in which Hartley Hare and his friends were brought to life by puppet maker, Inigo Pipkin (George Woodbridge). What set this series apart was the fact that the characters had regional accents: Pig (Brummie); Topov the monkey (Cockney); Uncle Hare (West Country); Mrs Penguin (Geordie); Moony the badger (Northern Irish); and Octavia the ostrich (French), while Sophie the cat and Pigeon respectively spoke in generic and upper-class English accents.

ITV also broadcast FilmFair's Hattytown Tales (1969-73), Bura and Hardwick's Toytown (1972-74), The Moomins (1978-82), and the American import, H.R. Pufnstuf (1969), which spawned the feature, Pufnstuf (1970). Such outsized puppets influenced Bungle, Zippy, and George on Rainbow (1972-92), which can be relived through three titles available from Cinema Paradiso: Zip-Up Zippy!!! (1992), Rainbow 30th Anniversary Edition (2002), and Naughty Zippy (2010).

This was the ITV equivalent of Play School (1964-88), which featured such toys as Humpty, Big Ted, Little Ted, Jemima, and Hamble, who was replaced by a Black doll named Poppy in 1986. More significantly, Rainbow provided the launch pad for Brian Cosgrove and Mark Hall, whose Mancheser-based company came to dominate the ITV children's schedule after starting out with Chorlton and the Wheelies (1976-79) and Jamie and the Magic Torch (1977-80).

Combining the voices of David Jason and Terry Scott (as Penfold), Danger Mouse (1981-92) was a glorious 161-episode spoof on Danger Man (1960-61) and the espionage thrillers it had inspired. Equally subversive was the 65-episode spin-off, Count Duckula (1988-93), which again boasted the vocal talents of David Jason. His finest hour, however, came as Toad in the 52 episodes based on Kenneth Grahame's The Wind in the Willows (1983-90), which also cast Richard Pearson as Mole, Peter Sallis as Rat, Michael Horden as Badger, and Brian Trueman as the henchman weasel. Cinema Paradiso users can relish the exquisite stop-motion work in the seasonal quartet of Winter Tales, Spring Follies, Summer Escapades (all 1986), and Autumn (1988). Also available are such diverse animated shows as The Flumps (1976-88), The Perishers (1979), and Doctor Snuggles (1979-81), which was narrated by Peter Ustinov. Based on a long-running newspaper strip and its much-loved annuals, The Adventures of Rupert Bear (1970-77) set the standards that were maintained by Rupert (1991-2020), which included such episodes as Rupert and the River Pirates (1991), which is available to rent.

Awaiting children when they got home from school, ITV and BBC's weekday slots ran until the early evening news. A highlight of the Beeb's daily schedule occupied the five minutes prior to the six o'clock bulletin, with these magnificent teatime miniatures remaining among the most fondly remembered shows in TV history.

Ironically, the most iconic was a French import. Created by Serge Danot (with a little help from Ivor Wood), Le Manège enchantée launched on ORFT in 1964. It caught the attention of actor Eric Thompson, who gained permission to rewrite the scripts and rename the characters. The first episode of The Magic Roundabout was broadcast on 18 October 1965, with the 441st going out on 25 January 1977, by which time Dougal the dog, Brian the snail, Dylan the rabbit, and Ermintrude the cow had become national treasures, alongside Florence, Basil, Paul, Rosalie, Mr Rusty, Mr McHenry, and Zebedee, the jack-in-the-box who ended each episode by reminding younger viewers that it was time for bed.

Cinema Paradiso users will want to check out Danot's feature film, Dougal and the Blue Cat (1970), as well as Dave Borthwick's The Magic Roundabout (2005) and the discs anthologising episodes from Graham Ralph's CGI continuation series, The Wishing Tree, Dougal's Darling, Rockstar Dylan, and Treasure Beyond Measure (all 2007). We'd love to bring you another cross-Channel classic, but Hector's House (1966-70) isn't currently available on disc.

Frustratingly, the same is also true of those legendary John Ryan titles, The Adventures of Sir Prancelot (1972) and Captain Pugwash (1974-75). But there are still gems aplenty to be had, including Richard Taylor's Crystal Tipps and Alistair (1971-74), the story of a big-haired girl and her dog that ran for 55 episodes and were renowned for Hilary Hayton and Graham McCallum's psychedelic designs. Then, there's The Story of Babar the Little Elephant (1968), which drew on Jean de Brunhoff's charming picture books and inspired such later outings as Babar: The Missing Crown Affair (1989), Babar: Three Episodes (1991), and Babar: King of the Elephants (1999).

Younger viewers also adored Ivor Wood and Barry Leith's adaptation of Elisabeth Beresford's The Wombles (1973-75), which was narrated by Bernard Cribbins. In addition to Orinoco and the Big Black Umbrella (1972) and Tobermory on TV (1973), Cinema Paradiso users can also join up with Uncle Bulgaria, Madame Cholet, Tomsk, Wellington, and Bungo in Lionel Jeffries's feature, Wombling Free (1977).

Wood and Leith were also responsible for bringing Michael Bond's small bear from Darkest Peru to British television screens in Paddington (1976-80). Narrated by Michael Hordern, this inspired blend of cut-out and stop-motion animation can be savoured on Please Look After This Bear and Other Stories (1975), Paddington Bear Hits the Jackpot (1976), Paddington's Christmas (1979), Too Much Off (2006), and Paddington in London (2012). Also available are Glenn Whiting's Paddington Bear: A Royal Celebration (1987) and Marcos da Silva's The Adventures of Paddington Bear: A Visit to the Hospital (1997) and Paddington and the Stately Home (2004), as well as the hit Paul King features, Paddington (2014) and Paddington 2 (2017), in which the beduffle-coated ursine hero is voiced by Ben Whishaw.

It's a mystery why no one has funded a feature version of Grange Calveley and Bob Godfrey's Roobarb (1974), especially as Richard Briers was so brilliant at voicing the nice but dim green dog and his sarcastic pink feline companion, Custard. Godfrey would score another hit with Henry's Cat (1983-86), although Wicked Willie Comes Again (1991) is definitely not for watching in front of the children.

As a regular in the Carry On films (hit the searchline for more), Kenneth Williams was no stranger to a bit of sauce. Indeed, grown-ups were often more amused than their kids by Willo the Wisp (1981), which followed over 26 episodes the adventures in Doyley Wood of Arthur the caterpillar, fairy Mavis Cruet, Carwash the cat, Twit the bird, a dog named The Moog, and a cursed prince known as The Beast who had fallen foul of a witch called Evil Edna.

No one had a better teatime record, however, than the Smallfilms duo of Peter Firmin and Oliver Postgate. Annoyingly, The Sagas of Noggin the Nog (1959-64) is off limits. But Cinema Paradiso can remind everyone that there was televisual steam locomotion before Thomas the Tank Engine and Friends (1984-2018), courtesy of Ivor the Engine (1975-77). The original monochrome series had been broadcast in 1958. But this 40-strong colour remake still centred on the Merioneth and Llantisilly Railway Traction Company Limited and the comings and goings of, amongst others, owner Mrs Porty, driver Jones the Steam, station master Dai Station, Dinwiddy the miner, choirmaster Evans the Song, and Idris the dragon.

Postgate and Firmin also contributed a classic to the Watch With Mother strand in Bagpuss (1974), which was unusual in being set in the late-Victorian era. Although only 13 episodes were made about the pink-and-white striped cat who lived in a shop owned by the family of a little girl named Emily, it has always retained the undying affection of the viewing public. Indeed, it topped a 1999 BBC poll for the nation's favourite children's programme. Also residing in the shop and capable of coming to life were a wooden woodpecker bookend called Professor Yaffle, a rag doll named Madeleine, and Charlie, Janey, Jenny, Lizzy, Willy, and Eddie, the six figures carved into the side of the 'mouse organ'.

While this show was quaintly quirky, Smallfilms went outer weird in the 26 episodes of Clangers (1969-72). Indeed, when the series was revived, it was narrated by Monty Python alumnus Michael Palin. Both The Flying Froglets and Other Clangery Tales and The Singing Asteroid and Other Clangery Tales are available from Cinema Paradiso and it's refreshing to note that the 104-episode CBeebies reboot (2015-20) stuck with knitted characters rather than resorting to CGI.

The original rodentine moon dwellers, who spoke in their own swanee whistle language and subsisted on Green Soup and Blue String Pudding, had been knitted and dressed by Joan Firmin. Living alongside Major and Mother Clanger, children Small and Tiny, and Granny Clanger were the Soup Dragon, the Iron Chicken. some Sky Moos, the Glow Buzzers, and three orange aliens called Froglets. Their adventures were accompanied by the haunting music of Vernon Elliott, which reinforced the perception that there was something trippy about a show that appealed to parents and students, as well as children. Try watching the first series again with Postgate's published scripts and we guarantee you'll have an eye-opening experience!