After the hugely welcome return of Big Brother, fans of the build-them-up-and-chuck-them-out mode of celeb telly were offered another stonker last night, Soapstar Superstar - a programme dominated by Emmerdale starlets dressed in Lipsy and doing Aguilera impressions. When the first contestant, Lucy Pargeter, wasn't tracing the outline of her breast with her free hand as if to remind herself of her exact dimensions (why have pop stars taken to doing this?? Girls Aloud are the worst offenders), she was jabbing it accusatively at her audience. The surprise of the night for me was Andy from Corrie (the gonky looking one) - his beautiful voice rendering him much less gonky than he actually is, in much the same way as someone with Tourettes gets a brief reprieve from shouting 'DOGFLAPS!' when they sing.
However, my viewing was cut short when CBB started on the other side. This year's line-up is just too good to miss a second. I managed to watch a bit of the live streaming earlier on in the day, and caught Barrymore telling his fellow housemates that while Les Dennis was "down there" (about six inches off the ground), he was "up here" (about eight inches). Does anyone else find it strange that Barrymore is uncannily repeating Dennis' stay in the house? Perhaps this is a reality TV type all of its own - the ageing, mentally wrecked 80s gameshow host - they'll have Roy Walker on next year. I'm not given to empathising with celebrities as a rule, but I actually think it's pretty sad that the producers have let on someone who clearly needs a doctor to revise his tricyclic anti-depressants, not a huge audience to watch his demise. I simply can't watch a grown man crying and insisting, "I'm really happy. They're tears of happiness." I found the Les Dennis thing too much last time, and fear this year could be the same. Leaves a nasty taste.....
Finally, My Name Is Earl, new US comedy on channel 4 at 10 pm and quite funny too, apart from some rather homophobic jokes. A redneck cracker attempts to put right all that he has done wrong in his life in order to appease the karma police. I know about those lot, a powerful force based in Scotland who constantly phone me up to warn me that something's going to "bite me on the bum". It's a good concept, and it could be good, bearing in mind the ever-present danger that an American programme can descend into shmaltz at any given moment. Mind you, with the Friday Night Project representing British comedy last night, well. I think I'd rather watch Joey.
4 comments:
Re: "...Earl", a redneck piss-take designed - like "South Park" - to appeal to both the gays and the phobes, straddling that uneasy yet highly marketable line of pandering to offensive stereotypes and preaching a happy-clappy gay-affirmative message - a win-win situation, the only loser being Brian Harvey. A big postmodern Bravo! to the writers, and more Sunday gin for me.
It's the 'Little Britain' comedy phenomena. A programme enabling the racists to laugh, and the lefties to laugh at the racists. Not that I'm putting 'Earl' in the same bracket as that prosthetic pile of poo; it is infinitely superior and the best premise for any programme since BB. And yet, the final shot lingering on the smiling face of a happy Earl who has managed to put off karma for another day. Facile? Maybe.
Curiouser still is the fact that Jodie, "26", is of the same complexion as Traci, and yet a different race. She must have the reverse of whatever afflicts Michael Jackson. Ooooh, Jackson. Maybe he'll be the celeb they chuck in mid-week.
Jackson? Pah! My money's on Roy Walker.
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