It was 1962. Britain was stuffy. The BBC was the "Auntie" of the airwaves, polite and predictable. Then, a young David Frost sat behind a desk and changed everything with a show called That Was The Week That Was. People didn't just watch it. They were shocked by it.
You’ve probably seen the DNA of this show without even realizing it. Without Frost and his team of "angry young men," there is no Daily Show. There is no Saturday Night Live "Weekend Update." There is certainly no John Oliver. That Was The Week was the moment the media stopped bowing to politicians and started laughing at them. Honestly, it's kinda wild how much of our modern cynical humor traces back to a black-and-white studio in London over sixty years ago.
The Night the BBC Lost Its "Proper" Mind
Before That Was The Week, television was respectful. If a Prime Minister spoke, you listened. If a Bishop gave a sermon, you nodded. Then came November 24, 1962. The show, often shortened to TW3, burst onto screens with a mix of sketches, songs, and biting monologues. It wasn't just funny; it was dangerous.
The show's creator, Ned Sherrin, understood something deep about the British psyche. People were tired of the post-war austerity and the rigid class system. They wanted to see the "establishment" taken down a notch. David Frost, only 23 at the time, became the face of this rebellion. He had this specific way of looking at the camera—half-smirk, half-challenge—that told the audience they were all in on the joke together.
It wasn't all high-brow. Sometimes it was just silly. But usually, it was aimed squarely at the hypocrisy of the day. One week they might be mocking the Archbishop of Canterbury; the next, they were dismantling the latest government scandal. It was the first time "the news" became a source of entertainment through mockery rather than just reporting.
📖 Related: The A Wrinkle in Time Cast: Why This Massive Star Power Didn't Save the Movie
Why Everyone Was Terrified of TW3
Politicians hated it. Obviously. But the public? They couldn't get enough. At its peak, nearly 12 million people tuned in. That’s a massive chunk of the UK population at the time. You have to remember, there were only two channels. If you weren't watching TW3, you were basically missing the only thing everyone would be talking about at work on Monday.
The show’s impact was so intense that it was actually cancelled in 1963 because of the upcoming general election. The BBC brass were terrified that the show’s bias—or just its general irreverence—would unfairly swing the vote. Think about that for a second. A comedy show was considered so powerful it had to be taken off the air to protect the sanctity of an election. We see people argue about "media bias" today on Twitter, but this was the original battlefield.
Millicent Martin would sing the opening theme, and the lyrics changed every week to reflect the actual news. This was "the week that was." It was immediate. It was raw. Because it was broadcast live, anything could happen. Mistakes stayed in. Hecklers were dealt with on air. It felt alive in a way that modern, highly-polished late-night sets rarely do.
The American Experiment and the Frost Legacy
Most people don't know that That Was The Week crossed the Atlantic. NBC picked it up for a US version in 1964. While it didn't have the exact same cultural earthquake effect as the British original, it featured heavyweights like Buck Henry and Alan Alda. It paved the way for the "Smothers Brothers" and eventually SNL.
👉 See also: Cuba Gooding Jr OJ: Why the Performance Everyone Hated Was Actually Genius
David Frost’s career, of course, skyrocketed. He went from the satirical chair of TW3 to being the man who interviewed Richard Nixon in the most famous political exchange in history. If you've seen the movie Frost/Nixon, you know the stakes. But that forensic, probing style? It started with the satire. You can’t mock power effectively unless you understand exactly how power works.
What Made the Writing Different?
The writing room for TW3 was a who’s who of 20th-century British brilliance. We're talking about Peter Cook, John Cleese, and Graham Chapman. Yes, the Monty Python crew.
- They used "The List." Every week, they'd look at the headlines and ask, "Who is lying to us today?"
- They didn't use punchlines in the traditional sense. Often, the joke was just stating the truth in a room where everyone usually lied.
- The music was a weapon. They used upbeat, jaunty tunes to deliver absolutely devastating lyrics about war, poverty, or corruption.
Is Satire Dead or Just Everywhere?
People often ask if a show like That Was The Week could exist today. The truth is, it exists everywhere. Every time you scroll through TikTok and see someone green-screening themselves over a news report to point out a contradiction, that’s the spirit of TW3.
But there’s a difference. TW3 had a "monoculture" to fight against. Today, we live in fragmented bubbles. Back then, Frost was attacking a giant, singular wall of authority. Now, we have a thousand little walls. It’s harder to have that "did you see that?" moment when everyone is watching something different.
✨ Don't miss: Greatest Rock and Roll Singers of All Time: Why the Legends Still Own the Mic
The real magic of the show was its bravery. It wasn't "safe" satire. They weren't just making fun of the "other side." They were making fun of the very idea of being in charge. It was inherently anti-authoritarian.
The Lasting Lesson of TW3
If there's one thing to take away from the history of That Was The Week, it's that humor is the best way to handle a crisis. In 1963, when John F. Kennedy was assassinated, the show did something completely unexpected. They didn't do a comedy show. They did a tribute. It was somber, respectful, and widely praised. It showed that the satirists weren't just trolls; they were people who cared deeply about the world.
To understand the news today, you kinda have to understand the "un-news" of the 1960s. We’ve moved from a world where the news was sacred to a world where the news is often a joke, and the jokes are often the best source of news.
How to Apply the TW3 Mindset Today
You don't need a BBC camera crew to channel this energy. The "That Was The Week" philosophy is basically about critical thinking wrapped in a laugh.
- Question the Tone: When a news anchor or politician uses a specific tone—authoritative, fearful, or overly sweet—ask why. TW3 excelled at mocking the performance of authority.
- Look for the Contradiction: The best sketches on the show were just two facts placed next to each other that didn't fit. "The Minister says X, but last year he said Y."
- Don't Be Afraid to Be Silly: Sometimes, the most serious topics are best handled with a bit of absurdity. It breaks the tension and allows people to actually hear the point you're making.
- Stay Current: The show worked because it was about this week. Not last month. Not five years ago. Satire loses its teeth when it becomes historical.
The legacy of David Frost and That Was The Week isn't just a museum piece. It’s a blueprint. It’s a reminder that no one is too powerful to be laughed at and no institution is too sacred to be questioned. Next time you see a late-night host "destroy" a politician, remember the grainy black-and-white footage of a 23-year-old kid in London who did it first, better, and with a lot more risk.
To dive deeper into this era, look for the surviving clips of Millicent Martin’s weekly songs or the "Consumer Affairs" sketches. They feel surprisingly modern. You might realize that while the technology has changed, the people running the show—and the people making fun of them—haven't changed all that much.