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Raised by Wolves
‘Working-class Wolverhampton – you don’t get many shows about that’ … Raised by Wolves. Photograph: Rory Lindsay/C4
‘Working-class Wolverhampton – you don’t get many shows about that’ … Raised by Wolves. Photograph: Rory Lindsay/C4

Caitlin Moran: how to save TV for the people

This article is more than 7 years old

Crowdfunding has resurrected axed American shows. So could it work in Britain? As she bids to rescue her sitcom Raised By Wolves – pulled by Channel 4 – the writer outlines her masterplan to save cult TV

Always of a relentlessly positive nature – aged 13, I spent a whole diary entry discussing how moving the deep-fat fryer to a different worktop “made the kitchen look BRILL!” – I am of the opinion that, should life give you a massive kick in the knackers, you should make massive-kick-in-the-knackers-ade. Thus, when we heard that Channel 4 would not be making a third series of our sitcom Raised By Wolves, I turned to my co-writer and sister Caroline and went: “Hurrah!”

Raised By Wolves was always a risky prospect … Caitlin Moran Photograph: Richard Saker/The Observer

“Er, my response is more like, ‘No-rah,’ to be honest,” she said. “Well, I say nay to your nay-saying!” I replied. “For when God closes a door, he opens a window. We learned this on The Sound of Music. Come on! We were one of Channel 4’s biggest comedies of 2015! We were voted ninth best sitcom of the 21st century in the Radio Times! We’ve just won the Rose d’Or! Twitter is full of people going: ‘Crowdfund it! I’d pay for more Raised By Wolves!’ It’s the only show I can watch with my mum/teenage daughters! So let’s crowdfund this mother! Literally! Because it’s a sitcom about a single mother in Wolverhampton with six kids!”

That was in July. I’ve since learned a lot about crowdfunding. Mainly, that it’s exhausting: it’s definitely preferable, wherever possible, to get some benign media oligarch to bung you a million quid to make a show. Having to power a crowdfunding campaign, then make a show, is a bit like having twins: you don’t actually understand, half the time, how you’re managing to do it.

We’ve so far raised £72,000 and need £320,000 to make a final, tying-up-all-the-loose-ends episode (if we get more, we’ll make more). Yes, I know – £320,000! You could literally buy Wolverhampton for that. But that’s what TV costs and why a commission is so precious. It is a genuine privilege to be able to make a show. Also, we want to include paid internships for production and writing, in order to discover new talent. I essentially got my entire career when I won the Observer young reporter of the year award in 1990, and I’ve never forgotten how, if you come from a working-class background, you feel you kind of need to be … invited to join the arts and media. You can’t just walk off a council estate into a job. You need someone to stretch out a hand. Just once. To say: “Come and show us what you’ve got.”

This is something that has never been done in the UK before: take an established show and see if you could crowdfund its continuation. As always, the US invented it: Mystery Science Theater 3000 returned after raising an astonishing $6.3m, while the Veronica Mars movie’s $5.7m budget was entirely raised by fans, frustrated that the TV show had been cancelled.

The central idea is a beautiful one: that, as long as there are enough people who love it and want to support it, no show need ever die. If crowdfunding is proven to work here, it will mean TV shows will have found a way to endlessly regenerate – like the Doctor. Think of the shows you miss. You could totally jam a hypodermic full of cash into their chest, like that bit in Pulp Fiction, and see them walking, talking, and flirting with John Travolta again.

I would personally chip in for the return of Sharon Horgan’s iconic Pulling, Garth Marenghi’s Darkplace, Vic & Bob’s House of Fools, Abi Morgan’s breathlessly sexy The Hour, and Stewart Lee’s Comedy Vehicle – but then I’m still upset that My So-Called Life got axed after 19 episodes in 1995, so I clearly mourn easily.

Garth Marenghi’s Darkplace.
Bring it back … Garth Marenghi’s Darkplace.

Raised By Wolves was always a risky prospect. It dealt with masturbation, getting your period, poverty, divorce, adult education centres, Germaine Greer, skip-diving, asbestos contamination, John Maynard Keynes, evil landlords, libraries, coming out as a teenage lesbian, bus drivers who won’t believe you qualify for a child’s fare, and being genuinely convinced you will marry Benedict Cumberbatch. In short, it was the countercultural, intellectual, occasionally deluded working-class upbringing we’d had in Wolverhampton. Fairly obviously, you don’t get many shows about that stuff.

But if crowdfunding were to take off in the UK, perhaps you would. All those who long for greater diversity on TV – just anything other than wisecracks and middle-class fretting – would no longer have to sign petitions, write angry letters, or burn with frustrated ambition and untold stories. That’s why we wanted in on it. We are totally the kind of people who would have eaten one of Willy Wonka’s new chocolate bars – even as he was warning “It’s not been tested yet!” – and ended up turning purple. Regret nothing. Always be running to the future. If you come from somewhere rough, it’s always better than the present, or the past.

Of course, the time might not be right. Our crowdfunder might dismally fail. We might end up falling spectacularly on our arses. But, as an incorrigible optimist, you’ll hear my voice from somewhere underneath a table going: “Actually, the view is kind of lovely from down here. Come and join me. Bring crisps and cheese. Let’s invent the Under Table Party!”

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