Surprise Surprise – we’re screwed
Hey. Remember that feel-good, weepy Sunday-night family viewing show? The one with the funny, toothy lady who warbled a helluva lot at the beginning (and then again at the end when you were all weepy)? The one that was sort-of a cross between Beadles About and Jim’ll Fix It?
You haven’t seen it for 15 years but now… HERE IT IS! Back, on the telly again!
Except this time it’s with shouty Holly Willoughby. (I’m really hoping she sings the theme tune…). Maybe it’s because I last watched Surprise Surprise when I was a youngun, but it did seem that, back then, it was all very innocent. People (usually older ladies) who had always wanted to meet a certain person (usually a younger male), a child who had done something really brave and got treated to a trip to LEGOland, or a twin who hadn’t seen his brother in 30 years. But that was before we got cynical, right?
How is it going to work in 2012 now you can chat to your heroes on Twitter, find long-losties on Facebook, or pop on a game show and become a Sleb yourself? Is LEGOland enough when there’s a shiny computer console at home? (Answer: it had better be or there’ll be no desert!).
I’m slightly concerned that Holly might not get much appreciation with baking a cake for Gary Barlow or being serenaded by the Bee Gees (yes. I know). Maybe she’ll surprise people with “Hey! Actually, you **will** be allowed your disability allowance!” or “That whole NHS cuts thing? Surprise Surprise!” maybe even “Hey, it’s your uterus! Surprise Surprise, we’re going to let YOU decide on what happens to it!” Maybe this is just a massive smokescreen for Cameron’s u-turns from now on. Either way, I’m starting to worry that the renewed Surprise Surprise will only serve to highlight just how screwed we are.
Buuuuuttt… We’re getting political. Let’s not do that. Instead, let’s think of some other 80s/90s big weekend TV we want back.
Does anyone remember The Interceptor?
Brad Pitt channels Chanel
Aside from this rather natty little ditty, with which I wholly agree, I have very little else to say on the Brad Pitt Chanel No. 5 advert, other than:
a) It’s obvious why the advert makes for such uncomfortable viewing. Everyone knows that Brad can only act when he is eating. See?
and b) Jesus Christ! What happened to his nose? He is basically turning into Jeff Bridges.
:-O
And why can’t they just go – “Hey! It’s me, Brad – off of all those slightly-manically acted films. Buy this. It smells nice.” Or if they really don’t want to pay him a speaking fee, just get a voice-over: “Wanna smell like Brad? Albeit, a slightly better washed, better-styled Brad, with better-kempt facial hair? Buy this nice-smelling liquid!” Maybe have him holding a kitten as well. That’ll do better than pretentious nonsense.
It’s officially the end of summer. The nights are drawing in, the rain is beating down on our flip-flopped, blister-prone feet and the X Factor is back on telly. It’s like a mixture between a TV version of verbal diarrhea and that bit in Clockwork Orange when Alex is forced to watch Bad Things with his eyes pinned open.
I don’t even need to watch now, it’s so formulaic. The live format made an unwelcome return – instead of a braying crowd as we enjoy and expect with Britain’s Got Talent, they’re less braying, more sympathetic and almost bland. Or maybe that’s just the epic editing. I miss the audition room, where auditionees would stand facing the judges in a bare room, instead of having their moment in the spotlight, staring out into the darkness. I don’t believe contestants have earned the right to stand on stage until they’ve made it through boot camp and the judges houses. Yes. There is such a thing as an X Factor purist…
But anyway, back to the formula. First a sweeping shot of the massive auditorium, with it’s search lights, picking out chavs and fat mums (or both at the same time). Then we’re reminded of past X Factor successes (no Shayne ward, Leon or Steve Brookstein – oops!). And then we’re reminded of the judges, as if we’ve somehow had a lobotomy over the past six months, what with Cheryl’s marriage collapse, Cheryl’s Malaria and Danni’s baby – are the girls some sort of X Factor publicity cash cow or something?
This lead BMTV to wondering what exactly Louis has done other than Boyzone and Westlife? Seriously? There must be more successful (in terms of bands, not units sold) out there. And even the Boyzone/Westlife business model is the same, really. They don’t even show him as initial manager of Girls Aloud as they only really got mega after they dumped him… Poor Louis. But perhaps his time is up.
To Steven, and thus the judges pull out their trusty X Factor thesaurus…
“You have a great personality”
> You make great TV
“You’ve got something special…”
>You’re going to make me a lot of money!
“You make me smile!”
>You’re fat and ugly, but you’re lovely so I can’t slag you off.
Next on the X Factor template is the sob-story-with-a-talent. This year it’s Zimbabwean Gamu, who **lip tremble** really wants to do this **sob** for her mum **wibble** She wants to change her family’s life, yadda yadda yadda… But. She’s amazing. Even without the Autotune (BMTV can’t be arsed to mention it, as it’s already been talked about here and here and here). Cowell says she’s “a million per cent yes.” He’s started on a million per cent already? Jeez, he really needs to think this through – where is he going to go from here?
Then the Bad Duo. G&S, which (as Simon Pegg mirthfully pointed out on Twitter) stands for Good and Shite. I actually thought of that too. No really I did. It’s in my notes and everything. But I can’t say it now because he has. And he’s you know, a comedy god and that. Dammit… I suppose it’s not even THAT good a joke, really, anyway.
Now to Katie. I hate Katie. Her dad says “she tried very very very very hard” No shit. She looks like she’s on the way to a Madonna fancy dress party, but has decided to go as Amy Winehouse. She’s far far far too full of self-belief and oozes fake humility to hide mass arrogance. She’s one of those annoying girls who sings on trains, for gawd’s sake. But she makes good TV – sorry, she has a good personality. And Geri “loves her individual sense of style.” Really? Madonna? Who you tried to copy – in your career as a **fitness instructor**? Incidentally, Geri is still quite crazy, right? I loved the montage of her being all over-chatty though. Especially as it finally showed Cheryl’s nasty side. Anyway. Katie. She’s just horrid. She makes me breathe bile.
The one thing that’s different this year is that they seem to be sending shite people through to boot camp. Either that’s because they sound quite good because of the Autotune, or because they’ve realised that shite people make good TV, I’m not sure. Probably both. Or neither.
Shoots self.
BMTV’s X Factor drinking game
Yes, it’s the return of the BMTV drinking game (or a post that’s piss easy, and quick to do).
This time it’s the X Factor, which slinks onto the stage, lifts its horse-face at the spot light, opening it’s pouting, lipglossed-slicked mouth ready to belt out yet another fucking Mariah number tomorrow evening. Summer is officially over – the ‘race’ to Xmas Number One is on (for race, see four-month-long advert).
So, take a sip every time…
> Someone says that this year’s X Factor is going to be bigger and better
> Any of the contestants say they’re doing it for “their mum/aunt/dead dog”
> Someone says they’re “putting their heart and soul” into it
> An over-confident non-talent gets shot down and storms off, claiming, “this isn’t the last you’ll see of me”
> Cheryl is introduced as “Cheryl Tweedy”
> A chubby child who can’t sing auditions…
> …and fails to get thru
> …and then their parents have a go at Cowell
> A band name is ironic (eg The Stunners)
> One of Louis’/Cowell™’s scary stalkers auditions
> Some past boybander auditions. Fails. Cheryl cries
> Cheryl does her “I’ve been here before” act
> One of the judges storms off
> It looks like the day is going badly, then someone amazing comes in
Down your drink if…
> Joe McElderry’s coming out is mentioned
> They show Geri Spice getting booed
> Cowell™ makes a bitchy reference to Louis’ sexuality
> Dani makes a homophobic/racist/sexist/anythingist comment
**shotgun**
We all want a piece of posh
People say I have a posh accent. I was raised in the south, and have spent most of my life in one home county or another. I wouldn’t say I was ‘jolly hockey sticks’ – I call my parents mum and dad, not mummy and that-man-that-bought-me-a-pony-and-shags-the-housekeeper – but I guess like most from the Midlands (Hertfordshire and Oxfordshire respectively), I don’t have a definable accent other than “you know, a bit posh.”
Perhaps because I work with staunch labour supporters from the north, I’m constantly ridiculed because of my accent and where I grew up. The fact I spent (a small amount of) my education in private school is scorned at, and I’m judged because of what my father did for a living – and the lifestyle he was able to afford when I was a child. I totally have middle-class shame.
The other day, a colleague described a restaurant he and his wife had gone to as “a bit posh,” like it was a bad thing. Why? As a society we’re always trying to aspire and be better than one another, whether it’s “my dad’s bigger than your dad,” or keeping up with the Joneses. Top Gear is all about the fastest, most expensive cars, Vogue features the latest designer bag – we all want a piece of posh.
So why this reverse snobbery? Would my colleague take his wife to MacDonalds? No, he took her to a fancy restaurant and spent far too much on small portions of (I bet amazing) food. When friends come over for dinner, we make an effort to be as fancy as possible – “See how I serve a tegine of salmon mousse, rolled in fresh thyme. Or something (see? I’m not actually that posh, huh?). At work, we’re constantly striving to earn as much as possible, to climb the ladder, to be better. So why do we look down on what we’re reaching up for?
Incidentally, this all-for-the-workers colleague of mine currently occupies an incredibly middle-class job, owns his own house, reads the Guardian and is a vegan. Surely if there’s one thing worse than a posho, it’s a middle-class hypocrite, right?
Now where’s my riding hat?
Oh. Oh. Oh, So You Think You Can Dance. You’re like the one kid at school who’s bullied, aren’t you? Just so much to pick on… I don’t even know where to start. From Cat Deeley’s weird walk (it’s like a cross between a baby giraffe and a Thunderbird), to her weird so-freakish-they-can’t-even-be-fucked-up-fillers lips, to that awkward Dad dancing the contestants seem to be forced to do whenever Cat’s talking to the camera and they’re on stage…
The theme tune is horrid (totally undanceable to, weirdly!), the so-called ‘prize’ is a chance to go to Hollywood and work (surely, by definition, that’s what they all had anyway? Even I’ve got the chance to go to Hollywood and work as a dancer. It’s an incredibly tiny chance, but a chance no less) – oh and the title of erm… Britain’s favourite Dancer. Wow. Not Best Dancer. Favourite. What an anti-climax. I feel the entire cast of 12 (after last week’s double ejection) deflate and let their collective eye wander over to The Stage every time she mentions it. Even the way the show’s title is awkward – So You Think You Can Dance.
But most of all, and I hate to sound like a pedant, but the thing that strikes me as most odd about this show is the fact that quite a few of them already have careers in America. America, who has famously championed this show for a whopping six seasons already. So… Why haven’t they given the American show a go? OK, so America’s a big place and their chances of success here are bigger. But then, surely an already-established career in the USA is far more appealing than one in Blighty? One thing that does irk (and I know I’m sounding like a proper daily Mailer) is the fact that there are entrants from America (using the above reason to gain a career no doubt). Would be interesting to see if UK entrants are allowed in the US version…
***Interesting SYTYCD factoid – ‘Nasty’ Nigel Lythgoe might be responsible for bringing us just about every freak talent show out there (Pop Idol, Popstars, X Factor, Britain’s Got Talent, SYTYCD) but he’s also the man to thank for bring Spaced to the screen. Yup, when he was head of LWT, Lythgoe commissioned Spaced. Dammit. Now there’s a man I’d like to face in a slow-mo fight.
Hollyoaks Flashforward
One thing about the Hollyoaks FlashForward episode – at least those in it know they’ll still be employed come May 2010. Must be a relief. I thought it was very well done all things considering, and it hopefully marks an upward slope for a soap that’s been dwindling of late. Even the new chief admitted they’d lost their way, concentrating on the younger actors, which resulted in bland fluff. It’s the first ever soap to run a flashforward. Hollyoaks isn’t a stranger to breaking records (remember the longest on screen kiss?) and it says a lot about FlashForward that a ‘crappy’ UK soap can steal their idea – and do it better. ‘Things’ happened that episode. Lauren is pregnant by Spencer, ‘Something’ has happened to Cindy’s kid Holly and everyone is miffed with Calvin – (even his own dad is in the frame). Sadly for reasons of Tupper and not being home on time, I won’t be watching to see it run to its May conclusion, but I predict it’ll be fun viewing.
Gadzooks – finally a proper post!
A good few weeks back I promised a return to form. If ‘return to form’ meant not really writing anything and then popping on now and again to apologise, and then make a random comment about the word of showbiz, only to disappear for another few weeks… then I guess this is the perfect beginning of yet another return to form.
It frustrates me that I can’t seem to settle down to blogging again. This has not been a healthy blog for five months now – even my once wondrous Dave Tupper original masthead has gone squiffy in protest. If I were the type to do those crappy New Year’s resolutions, then mine would certainly be to get BMTV up and running again. I miss it. And I think some of you might too. The other day a friend of mine (who I consider one of the wittiest people I know) said he’d popped on here to see what I’d said of a certain show, only to find nothing. How flattering, but at the same time, gutting. But I guess general apathy is just one of those symptoms. Speaking of which, if you’re reading this now, please pop over to my Just Giving page afterwards and chuck me a few quid.
Onwards…
So much has happened in TV land this year that there’s no point even trying to reflect. I had wanted to do a round up of the decade too (as most publications seem to be doing), but as usual, the Watch With Mothers posse have done a most excellent (and extensive) one of their own, so check it out.
But what I will do is a good-old BMTV’s The Good, The Bad and The Ugly of the year and decade.
2009
The Good
Nick Griffin on Question Time – good as it exposed him as the dumbass racist he is, but also bad because I’m sure NN’s demographic already knew this, and doubt those who voted BNP in the Euro elections watch anything but Jeremy Kyle, GMTV and Heartbeat.
Misfits – In a so-crap-it’s-good kind of way. The “cheeky chirpy one” is far too cheeky and chirpy, but I like how it’s basically Heroes with a tinge of Hollyoaks. Only on episode five, so we’ll see how it goes.
The Bad
FlashForward – What started as an innovative concept, set to be The New Lost(TM) swiftly turned into a lesson in how not to write a script: “What are you saying, Bob?” “I’m saying, Bill, that we could be responsible for that terrible catastrophe that just happened in the world.” Cue dramatic music. Dave and I spent most of episode 2 onwards trying to work out whether this was actually a comedy, and doing Benford impersonations (keeping your top lip as pumped up, but still as possible while you whisper, frowning). It got to the stage where cast members were literally killing themselves in order to leave the failing saga. We’re ‘on a break’ now til the spring. I predict it will not return.
The Ugly
Raymond Blanc’s strange choice of winner for The Restaurant – hmmm, a chef who can’t cook. I know ‘reality’ TV shows are now all about entertainment, but this was so blatant it was patronising. Not sure who it was more insulting to – the viewer or those poor 80s banker rejects.
Susan Boyle – not her, you knobbers. Just the whole way she’s been used. She’s an OK singer. But she’s been made a phenomenon because the nation feels guilty for thinking she’s ugly and therefore talentless. So if her success is down to her (presumed) mediocrity, that means she ISN’T that good (because if she was that good she wouldn’t need a gimmick – ie apparent ugliness – to get her success). So we were right to laugh at her. Sort of thing.
2000s
The Good
The first ever Big Brother – when they didn’t even know the theme tune!
Lost – still hopefully of a satisfactory conclusion.
The Office – the perfect sitcom
Flight of the Conchords – I’ll miss Brit’s jumpers, but I’m glad they saw the way of the Office and quit while they were ahead. My faves from series one.
and of course
Dr Who – yes, even with those RTD eps
Torchwood: Children of Earth – RTD is clearly a master (ho ho) at reviving flailing programmes and giving them a right kick up the arse into mainstream. Maybe he could give FlashForward a go.
Outnumbered
Lead Balloon (yes I know it’s just Curb Your Enthusiasm, but I don’t care).
Peep Show
Gavin and Stacey (with the exception of series three)
The Bad
The way BB was turned into a Z-list factory
How TV schedules seem to roll from one reality show to the next: Celeb BB, dancing on Ice, BB, BGT, IACGMOOH, X Factor, Strictly…
Torchwood S1/2
The Ugly
The way Jade Goody was treated by BB chiefs – first a figure of ridicule, then the nation’s sweetheart, then a poster girl for reality TV, then a racist bully, then the queen of hearts. Just. Nasty.
Any kind of tasteless programming – The Boy with a Shed for a Brain, I killed and ate my Mother… That sort of thing. I didn’t see The Execution of Garry Glitter, but this Daily Mail-riddled peep show topped the lot. We’re better than this. Surely.
Just give. Please.
A personal note, from the Badger Diary, if you’ll forgive me.
A personal note, from the Badger Diary, if you’ll forgive me.
Throughout this whole ‘mourning period’ I’ve been incredibly aware of What Others Think. Am I being too ‘normal’? Will people think me a cold fish? Do they know what’s happened? Etc etc.
Well, now I am utterly focused on other people in a different way. I’m asking them to give me money to shave my head next year.
Here are the details. If ever a post of mine on BMTV has amused or entertained – or just wasted 5 mins before the lunch break – please chuck me a fiver. http://www.justgiving.com/projectegghead/
My family are Jewish, and during the morning period, the men grow a beard – a physical manifestation of their grief. As a non-religious Jew (and a woman!) I felt quite frustrated in the months that followed my Dad’s death that I didn’t do anything physical to mark what has happened. I also wanted to do something to raise awareness and money to fund research for Pancreatic cancer. So my boyfriend Dave and I have decided to raise £2,000 for the Pancreatic Cancer Research Fund (http://www.pcrf.org.uk/index.html) – and during Pancreatic Cancer Awareness Week next year (probably mid November 2010) we’ll shave our heads.
I’m not a runner (I can’t do the marathon thing), but I wanted to do something that would test me. Anyone can sit in a bath of baked beans. Anyone who knows me knows that I am passionate about fashion – perhaps too passionate! My hair is a very important part of my ‘look’ – it’s basically my permanent accessory. Plus, as a woman, my hair is an important part of my femininity. So there’s absolutely no doubt that this will be difficult for me. But I’m determind to do it. After all, I’m lucky enough that it’ll grow back. Others aren’t so fortunate.
To put Pancreatic cancer into perspective:
Forty years ago few children survived childhood leukaemia. Now the survival rate is 80%
Forty years ago only 46% of women diagnosed with breast cancer survived five years or more. Now that figure is also 80%
Forty years ago 3% of people diagnosed with pancreatic cancer survived five years or more. That figure is still 3%
When I read that last statistic I was utterly appalled. I hope you are too.
The problem with Pancreatic cancer is that it’s so difficult to detect, so by the time it is diagnosed, there’s very little that can be done. But with research, hopefully the boffins can find some way around it. Already there is an operation that can be done if the cancer is detected early enough.
Pancreatic cancer seems to be the black sheep of the cancer family. Not many people know about it, and those who do know it to be severe and unrelenting. Hopefully with research and raising awareness this can change. Years ago, cancers like leukemia and lung cancer were feared almost as highly as pancreatic cancer. Now, thanks to funding research and raising awareness, the survival rate is growing daily. I hope in years to come, the same will be said for pancreatic cancer.
My boyfriend Dave is also shaving his head in support. This is a team effort, so please support him too!
Donating through JustGiving is simple, fast and totally secure. Your details are safe with JustGiving – they’ll never sell them on or send unwanted emails. Once you donate, they’ll send your money directly to the charity and make sure Gift Aid is reclaimed on every eligible donation by a UK taxpayer. So it’s the most efficient way to donate – I raise more, whilst saving time and cutting costs for the charity.
So please dig deep and donate now.
BMTV’s Dopplegangers #342
What have they done to her mouth?????
BMTV 
