A public hungry for homegrown entertainment provides redeeming factor for show with its daring take on taboo topics
Baghdad The concept of the television programme was subversive by Iraqi standards: a comedy daring enough to joke about sex and relationships.
"The idea we had for this show was just a bunch of us guys sitting around and telling jokes," said Gazwan Shawi, a producer, who wore black wraparound shades and a gold chain, and greeted a guest with an elaborate handshake in the style used by rappers.
"Between us friends," Shawi said, speaking of the programme's hosts and crew members, "we always talk about these things. Why can't we let the audience see this reality?"
They have, and for that they have attracted a huge following for There is someone — named for a standard Iraqi segue into a joke, something akin to "knock, knock." The show, broadcast on Sunday nights, has become a national sensation. Bootleg DVDs of previous episodes are brisk sellers in the city's markets.
But the jokes have not gone over so well with government censors and religious groups.
Forced break
The show recently resumed taping after a hiatus that followed complaints by the government's media commission.
The show is both popular and controversial, laying bare the deep schisms in Iraqi society over the limits of Western-style notions of free speech.
The show has struck a chord among a public hungry for homegrown entertainment that challenges certain orthodoxies and tired of politically tinged programming produced by channels affiliated with parties and officials. There Is Someone is broadcast by Al Sumaria, which is owned by a Lebanese businessman and is considered one of the few media outlets not linked to a political party.
The format is simple: five or six men sitting in yellow chairs in the centre of a studio drinking from big yellow coffee mugs and joking with one another. A studio audience looks on.
Just as often, the jokesters touch on topics that have been strictly taboo on local television adultery and drunkenness. "The show is challenging some social ideas and traditions, and that's why it may get so much attention," said Waleed Munem, a host.
To talk about sex on television here, and to elicit laughs for doing so, requires a feat of linguistic gymnastics and the deployment of double-entendres and subtle code words.
"We were scared in the beginning," said Yasir Sami, another of the show's hosts. From the outset, Sami said, the show's creators wanted to see how far they could push the limits of what is acceptable on television here. They knew to steer clear of politics and religion — explosive topics about which saying the wrong thing could get someone killed.
Even so, the government has sought to shut down the programme. The state's media watchdog, the Communications and Media Commission, recently condemned the show in a letter because it "contains jokes that are in most cases aggressive, indecent and impudent".
In response, Al Sumaria grudgingly agreed to take a week off from taping and to be more careful in the choice of jokes. "The media committee is full of ignorant people," said Mohammad Obaidi, Al Sumaria's programme director. "They have a Baathist mentality."
Little choice
Recently, a couple of hours before taping for the show began, a group of young men gathered outside the studio hoping to be chosen for the audience. When Monem, the host, arrived, he was frisked for weapons just as everyone else was.
Ahad Yasin, 29, said he came to watch because "it's amazing to have such a show."
"It's a hit show, and this of course will offend the politicians, who would rather us just watch their speeches on TV," he said.
Another man, who lives in Amara, in the south near the Iranian border, left his home at 4 am and drove for five hours to stand in line outside the studio. "As a young man, I can really relate," he said. "We always make jokes like this. It's normal."
The show has given the hosts, already well known in Iraq for their previous media appearances, a new level of fame. When mixed with controversy, prominence here can be dangerous.
"Yes, yes, yes, I am afraid," Munem said. "I don't take taxis unless I know the driver. I don't go to popular restaurants. I've heard rumors, but haven't received any direct threats."
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