Gone Fishing: tales from the riverbank

Lisa Clark
Executive Producer

Fish don’t take direction very well. Nor do Paul Whitehouse and Bob Mortimer, at least not in Mortimer & Whitehouse: Gone Fishing. The fish are fully in charge on this show from start to finish and Paul and Bob are too focused on their potential catches to think about the finer points of the production.

So, how do you produce a show that is essentially about nothing and is wholly in the hands of the fish and the fishermen? Our commissioning editor, David Brindley, thankfully took that calculated risk with us.

Last September, we set out to capitalise on the surprisingly stealthy success of the first series. We knew the most important ingredients were beautiful locations, a fisherman and his hapless mate, good topics of conversation and of course … the specimen fish.

The fish dictate our turnover and wrap times, our lunch and tea breaks and influence the overall mood of the whole cast and crew for the five days we are on each location. What we capture (quite literally) is out of our control and that’s why each episode feels so genuine – we never really know what is going to happen.

If you thought putting two comics in a river was unpredictable, add to that the great British weather, rising or falling rivers and elusive fish and there is a heady mix for jeopardy.

Right at the heart of this show is Paul and Bob’s eagerness to fish, which never wanes. Once their microphones are on, they wade off into the river and everything else around them fades into insignificance.

Our small crew (director, two camera men and assistant/drone operator) have to creep stealthily around the river banks to find the best place to hide themselves for what could be up to six hours waiting for some action.

This could be thigh deep in a swelling river or perched on a very precarious and muddy bankside or keeping their balance in a small boat. Bob is not the only one to fall over with alarming regularity.

It’s far more important for Paul to catch a fish than to make a television programme. He is a passionate angler. He can stand in a river for hours just concentrating on his float. Bob can stand in a river for literally minutes before asking Paul if he remembers his first kiss or if he likes rollercoasters or what his favourite pie is this week.

The joy of this series is that every single one of us is waiting for that bite. The tension is palpable and we all feel the same disappointment if there is a bite but not the all-important catch. There is a collective intake of breath from us all.

Budget restrictions mean we can’t simply stay until we have the prize fish and there is that familiar running down of the clock (or the setting of the sun) until we cannot carry on, whatever the results.

There have been more than a couple of occasions where the crew are reluctantly packing up and we’re all starting to make our way back to dry land when a scream (usually from Bob) indicates a last-minute bite and possible catch.

There follows a five-minute scramble, saved often by Andy the drone operator, who manages to take off and shoot the action from above before camera legs are back down again.

Once the fish is in the net, we have time to quickly take the close up shots with a hand held, the scene is savoured and we can retire to the local hostelry while the fish is returned to the water.

The episode would not be a disaster without a prize fish, but it doesn’t quite give us a full stop – it leaves a question mark which can be a little frustrating.

Then again, if we don’t catch all the fish we set out to it gives us all the more reason to go out again for a third series …