Tuesday 23 April 2013

Broadchurch, Monday 22 April 2013, ITV1


In my 3 plus decades on this earth, I have watched many and a varied collection of TV programmes, starting of course with the ground breaking Rainbow and Button Moon. I’m not sure how relevant that is to this blog post, but I just thought I’d share that with you readers because I always have something to say about telly. 



So, Broadchurch #closure #theend #whodunnit (I made the last two up, mainly because I just worked out where the hashtag shortcut was on the MAC!) The end this is the end, or so the guys at ITV kept on telling us, with their big publicity adverts at every available opportunity (ker-ching big bucks advertising revenue for ITV no doubt.) It has really gripped a nation, in a way I’ve not seen before, in a way some papers have compared to the “Who shot JR” phenomenon. Even my local sweetshop had a make shift sign up in their window promoting “10% off all sweets to mark the end of Broadchurch.” And, how I have been waiting for the end for erm, about 8 weeks. Broadchurch from the start, has tried hard to make itself different from other crime dramas on telly, with more emphasis on those left behind and the community in the aftermath of a murder.  It has desperately attempted to model itself in the guise of those Danish crime dramas (you all know the knitted jumper wearing detective one), where we have one murder and many many many weeks of procrastinating over who did it. All dark moody lighting, staring into the distance and lots (a bit too many) slo-mo shots. They even had a depressing sounding Scandinavian soundtrack as the end credits rolled (I guess Cliff’s Summer Holiday wouldn't have been appropriate.) 


The sad thing is, I kinda felt Broadchurch did it in a bit of a Cluedo way. Too many wasted weeks of red herrings, pointless scenes with not useful suspects and just a lot of dicking about. In it’s defence, it did have a few good characters, I liked Olivia Coleman’s naive but ultimately clueless DS Ellie Miller, some amazing performances from her last night. Danny’s Mum was good too, capturing the distraught mother looking for answers. But, for me, it was a bit too much Midsummer Murders, the characters like the physic phone mender (what was the point of him? apart from Will Mellor looking uncharacteristically dangerous) the vicar, who was just annoying and spent a lot of time in the hotel bar with the Aussie bird (do vicar’s do this, am I behind the times?) and finally, Nige, who perhaps was THE most annoying of the lot of them, very bad acting. You can imagine him moaning about how his crossbow jams up when he tries to shoot moving objects, when he should be mending your boiler. 



The accents - now, I like Dorset, beautiful part of our green and pleasant land, but the accents, well they just sounded way too much like where I come from (not Dorset), in fact I was wondering whether any of my old school friends or family might turn up in shot to add a bit of accent authenticity. This made it feel a bit, unbelievable. 

David Tennant - great actor, but what was going on with his hair colour?! He played the damaged cop with a battered background well and I thought he was at his best in the final episode. 

I guessed who dunnit about episode 5, it was a bit obvious, just a few things really hit home it was who it was. Particularly so when Ellie said to Pauline Quirke (who did some amazing moody grumpy cow acting prior to her exit in the penultimate episode, which I hope she would do on Danny’s skateboard) “How could you not know what was going on under your own roof.” Yes, exactly Sherlock. 



The final episode was pretty drawn out (us finding out the murderer at 9:10pm) but the rest of the episode was great, well, the last 10-15 mins, the aftermath and everyone’s reaction. I did really feel for Ellie Miller, and I think a better ending would have been the one where she just stood and starred at the Latimer’s house. But, this is drama, so we had quite a prolonged ending, where everyone came together, and viewers had a moments reflection on the death of Danny Latimer, oh and there was lots of fire lighting. 



For me, Broadchurch was mainly watchable because it was filmed in my home town (our local papers were so excited, and even my son’s hairdressers Mum had her picture taken with David Tennant! oooo) I saw Pauline Quirke in my local Tesco looking moody and fatigued (must be a method actor) and spotted the girl who played the journalist having a fag inbetween shots. If I gathered all of these spots together I’m sure I would have been £250 richer if I had submitted them to Heat magazine. Oh, and the church used was the one I got married in, so ner. Talking of location, my mother, wants me to point out that she is cross because everyone is saying it’s promoting beautiful Dorset and that it should be promoting Clevedon, cause that’s where most of it is filmed. So, anyway, I’ve said it now and can tell her so. 



As Twitter became flooded with “I told you it was him” and “no it can’t be him ITV!” an announcer declared that Broadchurch will return, Twitter then I suspect, became engorged with #countdowntonewseriesofBroadchurchcan’twait! Not sure what’s next for the poor old residents of rural Broadchurch, but let’s hope it’s at least a more exciting murder, a more thrilling list of characters and let’s hope David Tennant’s DI Alec Hardy has had a bit of a rest, a shave and perhaps a nice cooked meal from his Mum. 


Tuesday 8 January 2013

Splash! ITV1, Saturday 5 January 2013

So the new year begins with the usual useless spray of celebrity infected programmes on our TV screens involving ice, a famous camera ridden house and now, erm, diving. I turned on Splash! (sorry yes don't forget the exclamation mark, cause nothing spells out a fun programme more than having one of these at the end of its name!) with some trepidation. Mainly because I was worried what it would do for Tom Daley's career (who since has been warned by British Swimming's Chief Executive about his move into mainstream telly.) He's a young enthusiastic man (great as a mentor on the show, resourceful as well, with Helen Leaderer and the mat-into-the-water trick), so you could almost predict the producers would be sniffing at his door even before he had managed to put his clothes back on after last year's bronze medal performance. 




The show in essence looks like a cross between It's a Knock Out and We are the Champions (for those who remember those glory days) and is filmed in the geographically tropical Luton swimming baths. There is something ever so faintly smelling of the 1970s about it, at the start we had various divers athletically bouncing off the boards into the water and then doing all sorts of moves to some music blocked out mainly by an over enthusiastic crowd and some swimming ear noises. Cue lots of flashing lights and whooping. Then we had the presenters. Let us not introduce any new and fresh presenters for the start of a new year, let us roll out the same two that are on our screens for most things either ITV or sport related, yes Vernon Kay and Gaby Logan. Vernon, resplendent in his deck shorts and boating shoes, looked like something from a cruise ship. Logan and Kay are pretty fearless, with their standing on the edge of the diving board ready to interview the celebrities pre-dive, some of whom look like they are bricking it. 



The judging panel is packed with two British diving experts and erm, Jo Brand. Yes, I know...bit of variety?! Maybe the Hoff was out the day the producers tried to call. Each week, different sets of "celebrities" have to do one dive from heights of their choice, and then they are awarded points and then people phone up and vote again giving ITV lots of money. In this first speedo-tastic espisode, we had the comedienne from Ab Fab (no not any of the famous ones, though Bubble would have been very amusing) the sleeezy guy from ITV comedy Benidorm (who looks as sleezy in real life as his sleezy on screen persona), Jenni Falconer (she who used to present GMTV, well sometimes) Omid Djalilii (who described his diving technique as being like a pig being fired into a trough) and one of the Sugarbabes called Jade (there have been so many variations of the Sugarbabes lineup that they should be renamed). Each of the contestants wore various states of undress, adorned with lots of glitter and bling, I'm not sure whether to detract from their cringeworthy or awkward to watch dives. 




There was some blatant budgie smugglers in the mix and some very tighty gold bikinis for the more daring. Amazingly, each of the female celebrities managed to dive with a full face of slap, thank goodness for waterproof mascara, no-one likes an Alice Cooper look post dive darling. Oh, even before I get to the diving, did I mention that the hoards of (mainly girls) in the audience scream every time Tom Daley appears, it's like One Direction keep on surfacing from the shallow end in their armbands, such is the fervour for this bronzed six-packed 18 year old (sorry, just describing him for those who don't know who he is...)



Essentially, it's a terrible concept, 5 two-second dives making up a 90 minute show, really??? Although Omid Djalili's swan dive from the 10 metre platform was not at all graceful, it was brave, and some of the dives by the two more leaner celebrities were pretty good for amateurs, that is until they turned into banana shapes as they hit the water, ouch! So stuck was the programme with trying to pad out the 90 chlorine-filled minutes that they introduced a bizarre badly choreographed diving/dancing routine with guys dressed as James Bond leaping into the water below, all very strange. Women according to the first programme can't dive, as they were just seen straddling the men while pouting in their clingy Bond girl dresses (see I told you it whiffed of the 70s.) After much thought (well, minimal really) I can conclude that this is going to be one of those programmes that is so utterly rubbish we can't stop watching it. With an average of 5.6 million viewers on it's first night, there must be a lot of crazy folk out there, ultimately just wanting to see celebrities belly flopping, or loosing their trunks...