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Saturday, 28 November 2009
Vile bodies
Brilliant new low for Living TV: pointing the finger at ugly people and offering the hand of condescension.
Monday, 23 November 2009
The Price of Fame
Katie Price,
Katie Price,
Couldn't win a bowl of rice.
Those Aussie bugs just are not nice.
Shouldn't have gone in there twice,
Katie Price.
(Traditional)
Katie Price,
Couldn't win a bowl of rice.
Those Aussie bugs just are not nice.
Shouldn't have gone in there twice,
Katie Price.
(Traditional)
Jordan: the Comedown
The twins have gone. Now Katie Price has gone, as her desire to get herself back into the good books of the British people has ended with them and her 'doing a Natalie Appleton' – us forcing her to undergo every task in a manner that could be construed as bullying if that wasn't the actual point of the show in the first place, and she flouncing out as she was about to embark on yet another Bushtucker Trial.
Her stated reason for going on the show in the first place - to achieve closure from her relationship with Peter Andre - was a bit like a serial killer claiming that they killed again to get over the trauma of the last one.
I have no idea why anyone would go on I'm a Celebrity... once let alone twice. It's the cruelest of these celebrity shows. In fact, having just seen Gladiator for the first time it is uncannily similar in terms of gruesomeness. It's not fun to watch, it just isn't. The trials are the most horrible things on TV, worse even than being stuck in a green room with the presenters of Top Gear. I couldn't ever put a giant spider in my mouth, for example. Why would people go on there to face that? Yet Sam Fox is coming out of this series beautifully. She's willing to muck in, is funny and pragmatic and deserves to win. And it's interesting to see a glamour model from a different age next to Jordan. It's like Terminator 2. This new, high-tech merciless version has suddenly made the original seem so much more human. Actually she's the T2 crossed with Glenn Close in Dangerous Liasons. Or something.
Meanwhile ITV execs hold their heads in their hands, within 12 hours their most hyped reality stars have all gone. And on the BBC my favourite Strictly contestant, Jade, has pulled out through injury. IT'S A SAD WAY FOR REALITY TV TO LIMP OFF THE END OF THE DECADE, that's all I can say.
Her stated reason for going on the show in the first place - to achieve closure from her relationship with Peter Andre - was a bit like a serial killer claiming that they killed again to get over the trauma of the last one.
I have no idea why anyone would go on I'm a Celebrity... once let alone twice. It's the cruelest of these celebrity shows. In fact, having just seen Gladiator for the first time it is uncannily similar in terms of gruesomeness. It's not fun to watch, it just isn't. The trials are the most horrible things on TV, worse even than being stuck in a green room with the presenters of Top Gear. I couldn't ever put a giant spider in my mouth, for example. Why would people go on there to face that? Yet Sam Fox is coming out of this series beautifully. She's willing to muck in, is funny and pragmatic and deserves to win. And it's interesting to see a glamour model from a different age next to Jordan. It's like Terminator 2. This new, high-tech merciless version has suddenly made the original seem so much more human. Actually she's the T2 crossed with Glenn Close in Dangerous Liasons. Or something.
Meanwhile ITV execs hold their heads in their hands, within 12 hours their most hyped reality stars have all gone. And on the BBC my favourite Strictly contestant, Jade, has pulled out through injury. IT'S A SAD WAY FOR REALITY TV TO LIMP OFF THE END OF THE DECADE, that's all I can say.
Sunday, 22 November 2009
It's a Steve Brookstein year alright
Ta-ta Jedward. See you on Hole in the Wall, I'm a Celebrity, Celebrity Family Fortunes and the rest forever and ever. Just not in the charts. It's Cheeky Girls time, not JLS.
Everyone I know seems to love Olly Murs, a man who looks like a chubby Matt Damon. Fatt Damon. And dances like Prince Charles did in that awful clip of him doing the Hot Stuff dance from The Full Monty. I guess he can't win now, as he's been in the bottom two, so that's a relief. But that really only leaves Stacey and Joe as the only plausible winners. Joe will be off in Joseph before the series has even ended, and Stacey will be working the cruise ships for the next sixty years. There's no Leona here, no Alexandra Burke. I bet Simon was willing the twins to win, even over his own singer, because that was money lies. The rest won't trouble the top 20 this time next year.
Dannii was left to kill the twins. She asked the other judges whether this was a singing competition A fair point. None of them are good enough for this to be a proper singing competition, that much was obvious when Susan Boyle came on and sang quite divinely, her vulnerability making the song almost embarrassingly touching, and her voice filling that stage without any of the strained flip-top head yelling of Danyl or backing overkill of Jedward. So, if it can't be a singing competition proper, what are they actually judging? Simon can't answer, because that level of honestly would dismantle the entire show and with it his precarious, ludicrous parasitic career.
Everyone I know seems to love Olly Murs, a man who looks like a chubby Matt Damon. Fatt Damon. And dances like Prince Charles did in that awful clip of him doing the Hot Stuff dance from The Full Monty. I guess he can't win now, as he's been in the bottom two, so that's a relief. But that really only leaves Stacey and Joe as the only plausible winners. Joe will be off in Joseph before the series has even ended, and Stacey will be working the cruise ships for the next sixty years. There's no Leona here, no Alexandra Burke. I bet Simon was willing the twins to win, even over his own singer, because that was money lies. The rest won't trouble the top 20 this time next year.
Dannii was left to kill the twins. She asked the other judges whether this was a singing competition A fair point. None of them are good enough for this to be a proper singing competition, that much was obvious when Susan Boyle came on and sang quite divinely, her vulnerability making the song almost embarrassingly touching, and her voice filling that stage without any of the strained flip-top head yelling of Danyl or backing overkill of Jedward. So, if it can't be a singing competition proper, what are they actually judging? Simon can't answer, because that level of honestly would dismantle the entire show and with it his precarious, ludicrous parasitic career.
Monday, 16 November 2009
Facebook TV quiz...
Shouting at the Telly quiz on Facebook. More entertaining than Ian Beale, less entertaining than Calvin Harris's X-Factor stage invasion.
Sunday, 15 November 2009
28 Days Water
The much-trailed penultimate David Tennant/Russell T Davis Doctor Who story, The Waters of Mars, was finally broadcast this evening, and reminded me of all of the reasons I've enjoyed RTD's reboot of the show.
There was a really gripping story, something Davies is repeatedly underestimated for considering his extensive plotting and rewriting of not just his but all the other writers stories bar Moffat's, emotional engagement in the form of Lindsay Duncan, some absolutely horrible monsters and a great psychological twist at the end - this time with the lonely Doctor (last of the Time Lords, travelling alone) going power mad, and prompting a bleak and abrupt suicide. Loved all the Logopolis (Tom Baker's brilliant final story)-style foreshadowing at the end too, with the Cloister Bell and the Ood watcher... One of the things I've liked most about RTD's tenure as chief writer has been his exploration of new angles on existing themes, and this story finally saw the dark underside of the almost religious and magical overtones he's given the Doctor in previous stories, especially The Sound of Drums. He's not seen individual stories as islands but has been happy to explore and review the human (and alien) consequences of moral choices made throughout the series. This was always the weakness of old Who. Much as individual stories were awesome, the resetting between stories was unnecessary and ultimately hindered audience connection with the characters.
Everyone is very excited about Moffat's reinvention of the franchise, but I'm a little worried. What RTD has done is broad brush humour, warmth, adventure and razzle-dazzle. Great as Moffat's stories have been they have been tonally very similar (dark, intense, complicated) and I doubt a whole run of stories like that would keep the audience the current series has gathered to it. I'm not a fan of the 'dark version', that film reboot style so popular with film-makers during the Bush era. I'm more a new Star Trek kinda guy - warm, witty reboots which capture the fun of a franchise and don't try to turn The Muppets into Hamlet. There's a place for the dark version, but not every Saturday teatime there ain't. Doctor Who is best when it's fun and scary, and The Waters of Mars was a great example of that. As soon as it gets a bit Christopher Nolan I'm outta here.
There was a really gripping story, something Davies is repeatedly underestimated for considering his extensive plotting and rewriting of not just his but all the other writers stories bar Moffat's, emotional engagement in the form of Lindsay Duncan, some absolutely horrible monsters and a great psychological twist at the end - this time with the lonely Doctor (last of the Time Lords, travelling alone) going power mad, and prompting a bleak and abrupt suicide. Loved all the Logopolis (Tom Baker's brilliant final story)-style foreshadowing at the end too, with the Cloister Bell and the Ood watcher... One of the things I've liked most about RTD's tenure as chief writer has been his exploration of new angles on existing themes, and this story finally saw the dark underside of the almost religious and magical overtones he's given the Doctor in previous stories, especially The Sound of Drums. He's not seen individual stories as islands but has been happy to explore and review the human (and alien) consequences of moral choices made throughout the series. This was always the weakness of old Who. Much as individual stories were awesome, the resetting between stories was unnecessary and ultimately hindered audience connection with the characters.
Everyone is very excited about Moffat's reinvention of the franchise, but I'm a little worried. What RTD has done is broad brush humour, warmth, adventure and razzle-dazzle. Great as Moffat's stories have been they have been tonally very similar (dark, intense, complicated) and I doubt a whole run of stories like that would keep the audience the current series has gathered to it. I'm not a fan of the 'dark version', that film reboot style so popular with film-makers during the Bush era. I'm more a new Star Trek kinda guy - warm, witty reboots which capture the fun of a franchise and don't try to turn The Muppets into Hamlet. There's a place for the dark version, but not every Saturday teatime there ain't. Doctor Who is best when it's fun and scary, and The Waters of Mars was a great example of that. As soon as it gets a bit Christopher Nolan I'm outta here.
Piers Pressure
It's not a particularly original observation to point out what a revolting pissbrain Piers Morgan is, the man who was sacked for publishing faked army abuse photos in the Mirror and who has somehow kept his gollum-like talons on the throat of showbiz through various talent shows and now a chat show where he pedals a tabloid-inspired agenda to his guests.
Yet last week his interview with Ronnie Corbett, one of my all-time favourite comedians, was a new low even by Morgan's standards. He spent a whole 15 minute section on one point: Corbett never says 'I love to' to his wife, and instead they display their affection through actions not words. It's clearly a very personal and special way of communicating, and it's not for the outside world to get involved in this private aspect of his life. However, Piers, being the cheap sentimental hack he is, asked the same questions over and over about it, and then demanded that Ronnie say 'I love you' on camera to his wife for the sake of his viewing figures. Ronnie was understandably reluctant - this was a private thing, this wasn't how they communicated, and it's not what he does. Still, Morgan wouldn't take no for an answer and in the end Ronnie gave up and told his wife he loved her, and promptly wept.
Morgan got exactly what he wanted, the money shot, through cajoling his guest into submission. It was interesting to watch – for much of the media this is how journalism works. But it's usually a hidden process. The journalist can recount the events without revealing the manipulative lengths they went to make their interviewee lose it in some way. Watching Piers do this in front of the cameras was revolting. The man has no shame, and no respect for his guests, just an eye for the mechanics of a popular story no matter the cost, and the tricks to make an unwary elderly performer break down in front of the camera for nothing more than a cheap thrill.
Yet last week his interview with Ronnie Corbett, one of my all-time favourite comedians, was a new low even by Morgan's standards. He spent a whole 15 minute section on one point: Corbett never says 'I love to' to his wife, and instead they display their affection through actions not words. It's clearly a very personal and special way of communicating, and it's not for the outside world to get involved in this private aspect of his life. However, Piers, being the cheap sentimental hack he is, asked the same questions over and over about it, and then demanded that Ronnie say 'I love you' on camera to his wife for the sake of his viewing figures. Ronnie was understandably reluctant - this was a private thing, this wasn't how they communicated, and it's not what he does. Still, Morgan wouldn't take no for an answer and in the end Ronnie gave up and told his wife he loved her, and promptly wept.
Morgan got exactly what he wanted, the money shot, through cajoling his guest into submission. It was interesting to watch – for much of the media this is how journalism works. But it's usually a hidden process. The journalist can recount the events without revealing the manipulative lengths they went to make their interviewee lose it in some way. Watching Piers do this in front of the cameras was revolting. The man has no shame, and no respect for his guests, just an eye for the mechanics of a popular story no matter the cost, and the tricks to make an unwary elderly performer break down in front of the camera for nothing more than a cheap thrill.
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