*and to other members of the public sector which I may be unaware of that are also taking strike action today

It was a pretty original idea for a Christmas works outing: a trip to see some new sitcom being recorded. In our morning meeting, my colleague who'd booked the tickets said it was about three priests on an island, and that the actors were comedy stars in Ireland.

Soon enough, on a Friday night in December, there we all were, settling into the raked seats in the studio beside the Thames.

And out walked producer Geoffrey Perkins, to introduce this thing called Father Ted. A clip of a middle-aged priest talking with a young priest was shown on a monitor above our heads (the same monitor that would later show location scenes). It looked promising but to be honest I was more excited to see Geoffrey than to see Ted, as I'd loved Radio Active and The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Geoffrey Perkins! Legend!

I wasn't so sure about the warm-up man, Lee Hurst. He was so much edgier -- some jokes blue, one joke about asthma -- that it felt almost like a criticism of the scenes surrounding him, or tonal whiplash at least. My colleague who'd booked the tickets thought Hurst the funniest part of the night.

Sitting at the front, I had a great view of the sets: outside porch to the left, sitting room in the middle, Father Jack's bedroom to the right. There was a discarded script perched close enough to be a temptation. "And God Created Woman", its front cover said. The ladies in the party next to ours seemed already to be fans of "the young one" (O'Hanlon); perhaps they'd been in the audience before? One of my party, who'd grown up in a more authoritarian country, assumed we'd be instructed when to laugh. 

Did we laugh? I'm sure I was too shy to make so much as a squeak of arse on seat. I should have been made to pay a penalty on the way out, as I hadn't done my job as Studio Audience at all!

Still, I can try to make amends by coming here, 32 years later, to share the experience. I'll finish with some outtakes, in case these no longer exist on tape. There were a few takes of the exploding crisp packet (the crisps released from above) and I think a wilder version of Dougal being extricated from the sofa. But the one I remember best is Dougal's magazine falling apart at the centrefold and Dermot Morgan ad-libbing, "She's half the woman she was." 

I imagine the improvements over the DVDs will be modest, but it'll be nice to have it on the shelf.

The movie was shot in Wicklow and John Boorman was on all kinds of mind-altering drugs during both the writing and production, so even he doesn't know what a lot of it means. 20th Century Fox thought the plot was way too confusing and asked that this intro be added so that it would be easier to follow. It doesn't help.

I either scream "Feck! Arse! Drink! Girls!" into the phone or play a clip of Father Jack on Youtube.

Anybody else does this?