Human Cannonballs (five)

Sleeping With The Au Pair (C4)

BEING shot out of a cannon is not everybody's idea of fun, possibly because it's highly dangerous. Ask human cannonball Elvin Bale, who flew over the safety net and into a wheelchair for the rest of his life.

And all because of a soggy dummy. A sand-filled dummy, weighing exactly the same as Bale, was used to work out the position of the cannon. Someone left the dummy out in the rain and it soaked up water, which made it heavier and upset the calculations. Bale now teaches other people how to be human cannonballs.

Once the narrator got comments about "big shots" and "earning a living being fired" out of his system, Human Cannonballs proved an intriguing look at an unusual profession performed by "the few, the proud and the barking mad".

A long career as a human cannonball seems unlikely. It's estimated that out of 52 people who've ever attempted a cannon shot, 30 have died. At some point they all get injured one way or another.

World record holder Dave Smith's children have followed in his footsteps (or should that be flight path?). We followed 17-year-old Russell on his first flight as, much to everyone's relief, he made a happy landing in the net.

On the face of it, being an au pair is a safer occupation. But the emotional damage inflicted can be heavy if you decide your duties include having sex with your employer. Sleeping With The Au Pair - a title leaving no doubt about the documentary's subject - considered several such cases.

Aristocratic Alice and council estate criminal Simon met in prison, playing Macbeth and Lady Macbeth in a behind-bars theatre production. Their marriage was as disturbed as their on-stage relationship once Magda the au pair moved into their remote Welsh house.

When Simon and Magda were left alone in the evening "the obvious thing happened" - and no, he didn't mean having a cup of cocoa in front of the telly, watching EastEnders.

Soaps were responsible for driving Alistair into the arms of au pair Karin. His wife would tell them to go out while she watched the soaps on TV. "It's almost like she pushed us together," he said, offering a poor excuse for cheating on his wife with a younger woman.

Eventually, he told his wife their marriage was over. She left, leaving him with Karin and the two children. He omitted to mention he was having an affair with the au pair.

Alistair did marry Karin and they had a daughter and went to live in Sweden as a family. He returned after a few months and is now with a girl more than half his age.

The programme did find one happy ever after story - Tariq and au pair-turned-partner Petra. The makers wondered if she was going to employ an au pair to look after his children from his previous marriage. "Never. How can I trust him?," replied Petra wisely.

Candida, York Theatre Royal

IT is both rare and refreshing to find a production that gets everything right at the same time. How pleasing to report that this staging of George Bernard Shaw's rarely-performed comedy achieves that feat in this Oxford Stage Company revival. Director Christopher Luscombe's production is short - a mere two hours with interval - and sweet, something of a shock in itself as modern audiences tend to associate Shaw with wordy, static plays.

The story is simple enough: the Reverend James Morrell faces a stiff test when young poet Marchbanks announces that he's madly in love with his wife Candida. How this trio work out a solution to this situation entails such issues as politics, religion and a woman's place in society. This makes it sound heavier than it is because the romantic conflict produces some exceedingly funny lines and situations.

The production isn't afraid of using silences or playing for laughs, confident that the drama and the messages will find their way through the audience's laughter.

The casting is impeccable. Serena Evans stamps her mark on the proceedings as sensible Candida, dealing with her pair of admirers with assurance. Andrew Havill's humble man of the cloth contrasts neatly with Richard Glaves' impetuous, gushing 19-year-old poet. Not only the leading roles are played with style. Barry Stanton (a hoot as Candida's father), Hattie Ladbury as prim Prossie and Jake Harders as an eager curate lend valuable support.

l Until Saturday. Tickets (01904) 623568

Steve Pratt