Call the Midwife, BBC1 Sunday 22 January 2012

This is like a cup of Horlicks, a pair of fluffy slippers and a cuddle all knitted into one lovely bit of Sunday night telly. This is not One Born Every Minute (there seems to be a distinct lack of clueless men in baggy jogging bottoms who can’t string a sentence together) but a nostalgic and crafted look at the lives of a group of midwives in London’s East End during the 1950s, based on the memoirs of Jennifer Worth. Main character Jenny, a newly qualified midwife, could be straight from the pages of a 1950s perfect woman magazine. Demure, reserved and a little naïve, it’s soon clear that she’ll be more likely to be delivering babies from the Bianca Jackson’s of the world rather than a posh yummy mummy in Chelsea. It’s great watching how she has to quickly adapt to dealing with all sorts of women, warts and all (quite literally.)

In episode two, new character Chummy arrives (a shortened version of her very posh name which is long and hyphenated more than 3 times.) On her arrival she tells the Sister ‘I answer to Chummy. My Pa used to say long dogs need short names.’ Chummy (played excellently by Miranda Hart) is gangly and a bit self conscious, and confesses (much to the horror of her fellow baby deliverers) that she cannot ride a bike (a bike was THE way to get to a pregnant lady in this day it seems.) Although, it does appear she can ride a horse (and I bet it’s a fine philly too.) Most of the episode for her was trying to learn to ride a bike, it was all very awkward, but she got there in the end despite the odd narly crash (good old Chummy hurrah!) We also saw her a little out of her depths as she was faced with a breach delivery for the first time (a slightly scary thought considering she had previously only excelled at the London College of Needlework.) The moment she delivered the breach baby (or ‘arse first’ as she so eloquently described it to the poor woman in labour) was both moving and dramatic, and we all said yay for Chummy for doing such a spiffing job. I’m quite glad that Miranda Hart doesn’t do her comedy piece to camera like she does for her show Miranda, that could be quite disconcerting mid labour. No-one likes a comedy midwife mid-contraction. 

Other notables in this Sunday evening treat are the characters Fred, Sister Evangelina and Sister Monica Joan (no, it’s not Sister Act 3 Back in the Habit Again, but they all live together in a convent called Nonnatus House.) Fred is the jovial big hearted handyman (well, every convent needs one) who pops in every now and then with some witty comment (which he thinks is witty, a bit like your Dad used to think he was laugh out loud in front of your friends.) He’s played by the guy who used to be Minty in Eastenders, so in actual fact he’s really just being Minty a few decades earlier and with a whispery bit of facial hair which perches on his top lip like a milk moustache. Likeable all the same though. Sister Evangelina is the very stern matriarchal knowledgeable one, played by Pam Ferris (she of the Ma Larkin fame – who I always picture eating a fry up in the bath with Pa Larkin. All very greasy. All very wrong.) She’s good, though she reminds me of the one person who you sit next to each day who moans about everything. Finally, Sister Monica Joan who is a sweet old dear, but who is as mad as a bag of squirrels. She seems to eat all the convent’s cakes much to the annoyance of the others who desperately try and hide them in unusual places so she can’t find them, but she is smarter than that. A cake thief in a habit. Brilliant.

Call the Midwife is a good chunk of cosy TV with lots of atmosphere to boot, and I’m especially enjoying watching a prime time show based around female characters for once. Girl power and all that.

The Big C, More4 Thursday 19 January 2012

Hit US TV show (as they always insist on telling us prior to something been shown over here – even though they then fail to tell us it was cancelled after one season) The Big C follows relatively normal (they always are at the start) suburban wife and mother Cathy Jameson (played by Laura Linney who I always get mixed up with Julianne Moore) who vows to dramatically change her life when she is diagnosed with terminal cancer. Doesn’t sound particularly punchy or warming viewing does it! But The Big C is a lot more than that. I like a bit of black comedy with elements of drama mixed in for good measure.  

Season two (I’ll go all Americana on you and refer to it as season) starts following Cathy’s decision to finally tell her friends and family about her cancer (they are a heady mix of misfits and emotionally retarded reprobates, so in some way you can understand why she didn’t tell them at first.) Cathy has also now decided she does want to have a clinical trial to try to beat her cancer. Nothing that interesting happens in this first episode, but as usual it is the characters and witty dialogue which carries the 45 minutes along nicely.

Cathy’s brother Sean, is a hermit and manic depressive. He definitely has some of the best lines of the show and is very quick for a man who is a bit of a soap dodger. He has handily inherited Darelene’s old house across the street from Cathy. Talking of Darlene, I might as well give you a quick summary of her character. Darlene was the batty, perpetually grumpy neighbour of Cathy, and they became good mates after Cathy confessed to Darlene that she had cancer. Darlene (unbeknown to everyone) had dementia and at the end of the last season shot herself (see I told you about those drama elements.) Thankfully we are not long without the dry wit of this character as she comes back to haunt Cathy (but not in a Rentaghost way.) Cathy tells Marlene she keeps on seeing her cause ‘You’re trying to drag me to the other side.’ 

Anyway, the brother who despises the thought of being inside a house because he feels it’s incarcerating and not consistent with his anti-establishment lifestyle, still sleeps outside in a tent in Darlene’s front yard (you can imagine he probably slept in it during the St Paul’s cathedral anti-capitalist protests.) Meanwhile his pregnant girlfriend (played by Sex and the City’s Miranda) lives inside the house (well, if it causes less arguments I’m all for that.)

Cathy’s doctor (I wish my doctor looked like that) tells her she is not reacting well to her treatment, but offers some help by advising her that some patients appreciate a bit of marijuana to ease the pain.  Cue obvious scene with 40+ year old Mum smoking pot as Cathy and husband Paul indulge. Paul gets a great line: ‘I can’t believe the same guy I was buying pot from 20 years ago still has the same pager. I had him stored in my old address book under bicycle parts!’

Cathy’s son Adam, a typical teenager who screws his face up all the time (it’s the equivalent of a Ron Weasley face), is being sent to a therapist to discuss his feelings about his Mum’s cancer (which you can guess was not his choice of afternoon recreation.) Once Adam is out of the room, the therapist asks Cathy and her husband Paul if they are worried about anything in particular with Adam. Without hesitation, Paul answers ‘Yes. He’s been aggressively farting. He even fart-framed Cathy!’ Fart-framed, what a brilliant excuse to use a hyphen. Put it in the English dictionary I say.

Darlene’s dog Thomas (who looks like a bloodhound but then I was never good at naming breed of dogs) eats some of Cathy’s muscle relaxers. He’s later found by Paul dead on the patio. Though this is black comedy, we can’t kill the dopey doggy off in the first episode can we?! Luckily, Thomas comes mooching back into the room much later all long faced, but generally very alive to the relief of Cathy and Paul. Cathy says ‘Ok, if you ever think I’m dead, do me a favour and get a second opinion!’ Yay the dappy dog lives (see I told you nothing that exciting happens in this opening episode.)

Christmas TV Review 2011

Christmas – a time of excessive eating, Trivial Pursuit (and sore losers), ridiculously expensive Heston puddings sold on Ebay, highly stressed shoppers and telly! I’m going to do a quick (ok, I know I’m not the best when it comes to paraphrasing, so admittedly it will be long and flowing and full of opened and closed brackets) review of some of the twinkly gems (and polished poohs) of the Christmas TV schedule.

The Good (yay)

Great Expectations: I never thought Scully in an old wedding dress with her lipbalm starved lips and whispery voice could make for such compelling viewing. Nor did I think I could get past the way-too-beautiful-for-TV face of the actor who played Pip (not convinced a blacksmiths boy from the forge could grow up to have such lovely cheekbones), but together Scully and captain pretty boy were brilliant. Ray Winstone as escaped convict Magwitch, was well, Ray Winstone being Ray Winstone. Gravelly cockney geezer with a jowley snarl and his customary sniff at the end of each line. He cut a terrifying figure as he emerged in the opening titles all handcuffed and dangerous looking. Brilliant. It was an atmospheric trip into Dickensian England done exceptionally well, both haunting and true to the book (even with pretty actors and slightly questionable lampchops.) To boot, we had Poirot looking a bit evil as well with a strange case of OCD. Three hours of truly classy telly from the BBC, good on the eyes and with a dashing script. My favourite line was without doubt: “Pip? What sort of name is that for a gentleman? Pippity pip pip pip!” The said sneering rich bastard baddie in his burgundy velvet attire then rightly met his end by being kicked to death by the unfortunate horse he was beating with a whip. Have that, you nasty man for poking fun at a wonderful name like Pip.

Lapland: Which was on way too late in the Christmas Eve schedule for BBC1, for what was a brilliant piece of festive comedy drama with a very clever script. The Lewis’, a recently bereaved family from Birkenhead, set off in search of Santa, the Northern Lights and their first Christmas without their Dad/Grandad. A stellar cast led by Sue Johnston (Mum in The Royal Family) gave a brilliant performance as a dysfunctional family trying to enjoy Christmas and make the most of their Christmas holiday. One of the highlights of the programme was the hilarious tour guide ‘Jingle Jill.’ She had applied to work as a 18-30 tour guide at Val Desire but had landed the job as a tour guide for a bunch of Brit middle agers and kids in search of Santa. Her disappointment was plain to see: “I should have been snuggling up to fit snowboarders in Val-Desire, not singing carols in the frigging pudding bus!” She was tackless and coarse throughout, and had no sales panache when it came to trying to encourage her guests to sign up for local excursions. One of her finest moments came when she revealed to the unsuspecting children that the sausages that they had been devouring at breakfast were made of reindeer: “Yeah, that’s right kids, you’ve been eating nothing but Rudolph for the past two days!” The children, not surprisingly were very disturbed. Despite all their issues, a botched quad bike trip, and the two oldest grandchildren rearranging the words visit Santa to visit Satan on the hotels noticeboard, in the end they got to see the Northern Lights and visit Santa. They flew back to Birkinhead, full of reindeer and all the happier for braving the Lapland experience. I love a happy ending.

  

Sherlock: Ok. We know Sherlock is amazing stuff. So say 9 million viewers and a googleplex of TV critics. The BBC does also, at any given opportunity remind us so, labelling it ‘Original British Drama.’ The first episode of this new series was splattered in fast talking, big words, a jumbo jet of rotting corpses and a dominatrix. What a start to 2012. Benedict Cumberbatch is an odd looking fellow, but that is what makes him so appealing as Sherlock. His trip to Buckingham Palace (almost in nothing but a double sheet to hide his modesty) was a classic. More so for his casual goodbye as he left the room: “laters.” Mycroft was not amused, though I’m sure Conan Doyle was looking down from above and wishing he had been privy to such dialect for his novels. I’m definitely much happier sitting on my sofa watching this version of Sherlock than spending loads of money at a charmless multi-plex cinema  and watching Guy Ritchie’s filmic version (which should be named Lock, Stock and one smoking Holmes.) 

 

The Bad (boo)

This can be categorised as mainly most of the other pap on the small screen. Although, I must pay a fleeting mention to Downton Abbey for this (or Downton as everyone now calls it – is it that cool we have to shorten it?!) In categorising this highly adored Sunday night viewing gem I might offend you dear readers, but come on, did we really need to wait two blooming hours (and plentiful ad breaks) for Matthew (who was lost then found then could walk then couldn’t walk etc etc) to propose to Lady Mary!? (love the snow scene at the end though, like a little Downton snowglobe – now available in all branches of Past Times (oops wait they went bust)) And besides this, what was the point of Nigel Havers? Nigel Havers?! (obviously him eating kangaroo balls in I’m a Celebrity didn’t turn Julian Fellows off.) Could do better. However, Maggie Smith did seem to like her nut cracker (“It’s for cracking nuts granny” smirked the daughter who never has any good storylines.) 

The Ugly (hiss)

The Only Way is Essex Christmas special. Need I say more. Go and play Wham down the Sugar Hut. Also, I love cooking, but do we need sooooo many TV chefs and their tedious Christmas specials? Rick Stein, yes I’m talking to you when I use the word tedious. No I don’t want Spanish octopus served on a bed of pan fried chorizo and smoked paprika for my Christmas lunch, thanks all the same. 

Mildred Pierce, Sky Atlantic Saturday 25 June 2011

Mildred Pierce is the much publicised new TV adaptation of the 1941 James M Cain novel, starring Kate Winslet in the leading role (the story was originally turned into a classic film noir in 1945, starring the angular-faced Joan Crawford who won an Oscar for her role.) Mildred Pierce is a Depression-era American housewife (cue flowery pinny and immaculate kitchen) whose husband  (Brill-creamed successful businessman who cuts the grass at the weekends) has left her and her two young daughters to fend for themselves (mutterings of infidelity are mentioned as Mildred calmly decorates an ornate chocolate cake in the opening scenes of the episode.) It's a puzzling first episode as nothing really happens, not in the classic shoot-em up drama kind of way. This is definitely not a death a minute, wham bam thank you mamm, bums and gums yarn. Definitely more of a thoughtful tortoise paced drama.  It's slow but interesting and tells the unfolding of Mildred's life as she struggles to afford basic groceries (Mr Mildred Pierce didn’t hang around to leave his wife any child maintenance payments it seems, so she has to go down the Tesco Value aisle from now on) and has to try to get a job of her own (which is a bit frowned upon in the circles Mildred frequents.) Mildred is subtly arrogant (though wouldn't want to admit it), old fashioned and stubborn (we see her turn down many jobs as she doesn't think they are worthy of her) yet, she seems strangely likeable. I’m not sure whether it's Winslet's acting (she does some great frowning in these scenes, much like those she won her Oscar for in The Reader, but I'm happy to say her eyebrows are much less furry in this screen outing) or it's this new adaptation, which is sumptuous and very soapy (the early scenes with Mildred in full housewife get up does remind me of the early Corrie days, I'm half disappointed the props department didn't shove some pink rollers in her barnet.) She finally takes a job as a waitress, and as you would expect she is pretty rubbish at it (though I don't think the guy pinching her bum was her fault). As she slips her unflattering waitress outfit on, you can hear her social status clunk to the floor, along with her pride.

That's it really for the first instalment (apart from an awkward romantic interlude with her former husband's unattractive business partner). It sounds boring doesn't it, but what makes it watchable is its attention to detail (the scenes are played out as if they are on stage and have all the time in the world) and its ability to capture the era really well. It certainly likes its characterisations too. This simple first outing is without doubt the calm before the storm, as it feels like there is much more to come (I'm hoping they skip along at a canter rather than a plod in the next episode.) The eldest of Mildred's daughters is definitely one to watch out for as she does appear to have all the makings of a spoilt brat, I think she might cause her Mum quite a bit of strife once the hormones start spilling out. The youngest daughter's role seems to be 'just act cute when we point the camera at you.' She also says 'cut the mush' a lot when things start getting a bit emotional in the Pierce household (I've got a feeling she might be saying this quite a lot more as the series develops.) We also get Mike from Neighbours turning up in the next few episodes, yay!



 

Camelot, Channel4 Saturday 18 June 2011

 Camelot comes hot on the heels of The Tudors as an historical soap opera style yarn fuelled with sex, gallopy horseys, tight corsets, memorable one liners, and dashing knights. In fact, I feel like I'm watching the start of The Tudors, the music, the titles, they could be the same, as if they have been cut and pasted, oh hang on, that's cause it's made by the same people (tightwads)! It's typically glossy with a stellar cast and a formidable concoction of goodies versus baddies. Plus all the over acting you could ever wish for. This is Arthur for the post-naughties Heat magazine generation.

Characters and what's going down in Camelot:

King Arthur (he climbed up a water fall in the first episode to pull the sword from the stone you know, Bear Grylls watch out) - very young, scrawny, has a very unkingly bum fluff beard, long blond greasy hair. Looks like something from a Calvin Klein advert, just give him a pair of skinny jeans. Arthur has a real thing for Guinevere, and begs her not to marry her long term boyfriend (who rather awkwardly is one of Arthur's right hand men). They meet on a beach, and although she plays hard to get and says she loves her boyfriend, there is soon much panting and blond locks everywhere. Cue some cheddar-tastic dialogue to capture the steamy moment between our star crossed lovers. Arthur: 'Why are you crying?' Guinevere 'Cause I want this...' After the beach rumpy-pumpy they lay naked in each others arms, it's like an Armani underwear advert (but minus the pants.) Guinnie decides she must do what is right and marry her guy 'He must never know. I must get ready for my wedding' (she says shaking the sand out of her pants, ok not really I made this bit up.) She leaves Arthur butt naked on the beach to sulk, which he does quite well considering he has the face of an adolescent boy. 

Merlin - played by Joesph Fiennes, acting just like he did as William Shakespeare in Shakespeare in Love (only difference is the lack of hair on his head). Fiennes frowns a lot and looks very harsh, his over acting is stupendous, looks as if he could crack walnuts with his stare. Small goatee beard (obviously where he hides his magic tricks) and shaven head. No magic wand or long white beard, I am disappointed.

Morgan (Eva Green) - sultry half sister of Arthur, is a bit peeved that she isn't Queen now, even though she poisoned her own father (King Uther) to try and get his crown. She had been banished by Daddy (like a naughty teenager) when she was younger and despised her father and his new wife (could possibly be because her stepmother has the most amazing cheekbones.)

Morgan invites Arthur over to her house (I mean castle) to try and find out more about her brother and get to know him (yeah right, she's evil! Don't RSVP her!) Merlin (as Arthur's protector) is sceptical and doesn’t trust Morgan, but Arthur is young and feels like it's time to get to know his big sis (silly boy.) Later as they drink together (Arthur has gone to bed like a good boy), Morgan poisons Merlin's wine (great ham from Fiennes as he fakes being poisoned) which leads him to figure out it was Morgan who poisoned the old King. Before he can do anything he's out cold. Morgan is very witchy and mixes her own potions (I bet she'd do a mean cocktail). She takes the drugged up Merlin prisoner and shackles him to the bed. While he is drugged up she takes his toe nails and clips his beard (maybe she is getting her ingredients ready for Camelot Come Dine With Me). 

Eva Green is haughty and nasty, and as per usual has great eye make up, smokey! But someone please tell me what accent she has!? Merlin soon escapes and makes an exit, on the way out he sees his evil girl nemesis looking pleased with herself 'You’re leaving?' asks an observant Morgan whilst holding a barn owl (oooo a barn owl, not the most menacing-looking of feathered side kicks for a baddie, more Countryfile than bad girl.)

Back on the beach we see lots of fine topless young men running around and playing together on the beach (came of tag chaps), they shout 'last night of freedom’ to Leontes, Guinevere's fiancé. Now if only they had a volleyball and a great 80s soundtrack for a montage, it could be Top Gun (we all remember than scene!)

Meanwhile back at Camelot preparations are underway for a lavish wedding (forget Kate and Wills). Leontes asks Arthur to proceed over the ceremony (awkward), Arthur of course cannot refuse (how I love a love triangle.) The groom looks resplendent in red velvet (reminds me of a party dress I had in 1984). I don't think he went to Moss Bros for this either. At the wedding Arthur looks like a moody teenager forced to wear his Dad's old formal gear, which includes some dead animal of sorts draped across his back (like this is so unfair!) Combine this with his general grumpiness that Guinevere is not marrying him, and you get the picture of how long his face is. Guinevere marries Leonates, but not before longing glances between her and Arthur. It's all so Mills and Boon, or actually a bit Neighbours circa 1988. We also get some nice atmospheric balcony singing from an angelic lady who sounds like she also recorded the soundtrack for Lord of the Rings (you know all the Liv Tyler and Cate Blanchett scenes.) 

While we are enjoying the wedding celebrations and the big love in, over on the dark side, evil Morgan (evil laugh) is cocktail mixing again, but this time in her father's former dungeon (she should sell tickets, she'd make a mint.) As ever she is looking super witchy, with her long dressing gown and black eyes. It all looks like a seance with flickering candles, mystic symbols scrawled on the floor with chalk (where's Dr Robert Langdon when you need him eh?) smoke drifting across the scene (god bless smoke machines). I feel like I'm watching one of those Americana ‘contact the dead’ programmes on some obscure Sky channel (not that I watch these things you understand.) She drops a signet ring covered with Arthur's blood (which she playfully extracted in an earlier scene, as you would) into a jug of water and whispers under her breath (I'm kinda wishing she would cackle at this stage) 'Let's see what's truly in your heart brother.' She then gets to see what he is seeing, like she has transferred into his body and can see through his eyes. I’m going to take wild guess that she is going to use this power for some Machiavellian mischief.

Guinevere is wracked with guilt, but of course still does the conjugal thing with her new hubby, I mean just to seal the deal. The show ends with her standing on her balcony, her perfect blond locks whipping in the wind (great wind machine) and looking out onto the choppy sea below, the lovely choral lady sings in the background (I think they had her on shuffle you know), and the CGI masters do their bit with crashing waves and the castle background. I think these elements were meant to heighten the tension, but I don't buy Guinivere's guilty conscience or her soap style acting, and I predict before long she'll be bed hopping once more with the boy king.

Camelot is pretty ok, I mean it's not as good as Disney's Sword in the Stone (for one thing it doesn't have an over sexed squirrel), but it's mildly watchable (in an entertaining but completely historically inaccurate way), purely for watching the dastardly antics of Morgan, oh and watching Joesph Fiennes' growling frown, which should have a script of its own. I'm also quite keen to see whether gangly Arthur manages to grow a man beard and gain a King-like pot belly. I just wish they would start dropping in a few Monty Python songs and then they'd be flying.

Made in Chelsea, E4 Monday 20 June 2011

Spencer, Hugo, Freddy, Francis, Agner, Cheska, Binky, Mark-Francis and Funda - no, not the names of ex-children's TV presenters, but just some of the line-up from E4's 'reality' show Made in Chelsea. Think the Only Way is Essex (ITV2) but with much more RP and less PVC. E4's website describes the show as: 'An eye-opening reality series that follows the lives and loves of the socially elite 20-somethings who live in some of London's most exclusive postcodes.' I’d describe it as 67 minutes of clueless poshos sauntering around Chelsea, not doing very much. The programme is shot like the glossy centre pages of Harpers and Queens, very stylised, like it has caviar, foie gras and truffle oil mixed into each shot. This is a visual guide to rich-land. 

What is it all about? Some bullets of explanation:

• The show is awash with perfectly made up girls (and boys) whose only real worry in life is who they are seen with and how much they can spend on their hair (or har.)
• The acting (cough) is embarrassing, and they do seem quite embarrassed as a general rule. Lots of awkward pauses and stares into the distance (oh look there's my Faberge egg), which makes it feel all very amateur.
• The fact that they have 'story producers' listed in the closing credits is a bit suspect, hmmm. The producers would argue that it is real people who have just been helped along with some interesting story lines and scripts to compliment their own dialogue. But boy is it cringe-worthy to watch. My eyes still hurt from wincing so much.
• Yet, I find myself glued to the screen, not because it is quality ground breaking television which will enrich my life, but because I just don't get what I am watching. What genre is it? Docu-soap, reality show, comedy spoof show???! (or am I missing the subtle subtext of what the producers are trying to show me, and I'm supposed to be intrigued and entertained by its randomness. I will never know, and I'm not sorry that episode seven of this first series is the only one I've watched!)

Let's get on with what's happened in this thrilling episode

Cue Spencer (slick back hair, million dollar Harley Street smile) and Hugo (goofy teeth and looks like Goran Ivansevic.) They are the best of chaps and are tootling around in their Chelsea Tractor (toot toot beep beep, snort, life's a blast sweetie) cruising around the streets discussing women and Spencer's recent split with his girlfriend, Funda (what, last name crispy pancakes?!) He has decided to move out and is checking  himself into an uber posh hotel (maybe the Travel Inn in Chelsea was fully booked?)

Before this we had two girls cycling through the park looking all jolly in their little French shorts. I can't remember what they were talking about but it was probably Spencer or Hugo, or Freddy or Francis...or even where they were going to have their hair (har, yar?) done.
 
Next we have Rosie (who has eyelashes like spiders legs and a face like she is chewing a plum) who tells Agner (particularly pretty looking dim European blond bird) that while Francis and Fred were fencing (no, I'm not making up all these stereotypes) they were laughing about how they were sharing Agner. Agner is quite offended, though her face doesn't really move much. Rosie looks pleased with herself for sharing this gem of information (the posh do like to stir don't they.)

Francis trots in (literally) moments later. Francis is all big fluffy toffee hair, mega round Harry Potter glasses and preppy stripped tie (and a mouth which hangs about for flys to play in). Agner confronts him, he stutters, trying to get his words out to defend himself but just looks flustered and irritable that this dim blond is having a go at him (how dare she, he thinks, women know your limits.) He interrupts and tries to cut her down, belittling her, and at some stage I just know he wants to say in a David Cameron-esque way 'Calm down dear!'

Meanwhile back at toothy Spencer land, he has booked himself into the Mayfair Hotel. He wears a rather dashing handkerchief in his top pocket. Spencer recently (in Cannes as they keep on mentioning) declared his love for old school chum Caggy. Caggy rebuffed his advances and felt it was 'too close to your break-up with Funda.' The whole episode is mainly centred on the aftermath of this crushed declaration, oh and also they are all preparing for some society masquerade ball. Super-duper exciting sweetie!

At the masquerade ball - which unsurprisingly is full of well to do folk in their decorative masks trying to look like they are having fun for the cameras, but in reality it is very stilted and slow. Francis (unfortunately for him, is wearing a mask with a long pointy nose on it, when he moves the mask up to reveal his face, it sits on top of his head, and well you can work out what he looks like) has it out with Rosie (spider-legs eyelashes) about Agner "You are a meddling little bitch" Francis barks to Rosie, who just laughs in his face. Francis looks very hurt. It's all very pantomime posh. 

Back to Cagencer (see what I did there, amalgamate the names Spencer and Caggy - I could soooo work for Heat magazine) and Mr Toothy is trying to play it cool. I'm not really sure what he is trying to achieve but it’s all so yawn. At one point Spencer says to Caggy: "I genuinely believe you are overreacting." And the prize for most insensitive posh git goes to Spencer, yay.

An entertaining side show from all of this is Ollie. A man so tanned he makes Kat Slater look pale and interesting. A man with such luscious mane-like long brunette locks that he could give Cheryl a run for her money. A man so vacant that he looks like an empty toilet cubicle. He seems as dumb as pig poop, and I'm surprised he hasn't done himself a nasty injury by preening and looking in the mirror so much. It would appear that last episode he came out to his girlfriend (Gabriella, feisty, pretty, scary) that he was bisexual (who knew?!) She is very much the woman scorned especially when she sees him at the masquerade ball flirting with a random girl. When confronted he seems as bothered as an unbothered person. He says to Gabriella 'I thought we were in a friendly place sweetie?'

Ollie is sheer entertainment and makes me laugh every time I see him on screen (this is not a compliment Ollie). He also does this really weird thing with his eyes, I think he would like to call it acting, but it makes him look, well, a bit constipated. I'd say he's definitely from the Derek Zoolander school of acting. 

Towards the end, Agner confronts Tim nice but dim 1 and Tim Nice but Dim 2 (collectively known as Freddie and Francis) and basically dumps them both. But not before dim Freddie (with some luscious long blond locks, do him and Ollie go to the same salon?) protests to Agner "We're not sharing you. I can continue to take you out for lunch and so can Francis." Oh dear Freddie, you and Spencer need to retake that charm school module at Eton.

As the episode draws to a close (thank god), we have some touching posh drowning ones sorrows moments from Spencer and Hugo, drinking together in a posh haunt, probably a gentleman's club, and Caggy drinking shots with a friend (can't even remember girl's name she was that memorable in the 67 minutes). Caggy downs the shots like a troubled young woman, and wipes the (probably very expensive) liquid from the back of her hand like a tramp would after necking a bottle of whisky from Spar. Now, that's acting for you darling. I so can't wait for next week's episode. Not.

The Apprentice, BBC1 Wednesday 15 June 2011

"I'm looking for someone who’s got a brain..." well Lord Sugar, you might as well stop looking as you've got your work cut out with the current cast of reprobates on this week's Apprentice.

This week's task, entitled Freemium Magazine Launch, encouraged the remaining candidates to create and launch their own magazine and pitch to advertisers, in the hope of selling as much advertising space as possible to win. Northern Irish Jim was project manager this week (or PM as they love to call it - god help us if any of this lot ever make it to Parliament), and soon set about trying to woo stone faced monotone moaning-minnie Zoe with his line (while playing with his tie) 'I've never worked with you Zoe...I'm looking forward to it.' They shook hands and Zoe blushed. You could cut the sexual tension with the tip of a Bic pen. This however was short lived, as during the course of the episode it was quite clear they were chasing their own agendas, instead of each other.

At the beginning of the task they were given a valuable piece of advice from an established publisher who said 'It's all about understanding your consumer.' This fell on deaf ears as they set about creating their magazines. I watched with my head in my hands as Zoe came up with the idea to call their magazine (aimed at the over 60's) 'Hip Replacement.' I continued to laugh throughout the remainder of the programme every time they referred to Hip Replacement during serious business talk. I fear I wasn't the only one, as the face of the advertisers they were pitching to could barely conceal their sniggers. Why why why did no one turn round and scream 'This is a ridiculous idea'! What a bunch of muppets, thank goodness they don't work in publishing (although saying that, who came up with the idea for the magazine name Nuts!?) Funnier still was their article on how to use a mobile phone and make a call, like the over 60's are all technologically inept. The humour, however, wasn't just restricted to Zoe and Jim's team. 

Over on Team Logic team leader Natasha came up with the idea of a lads magazine with the name 'Covered'. During the process she came out with some intellectually stimulating gems such as 'Lads magazines are about lads, yeah' and 'porn sells.' How this girl isn't on MENSA's hit list I'll never know. The titillation (and my tittering continued) with the idea of calling one of the magazine's features 'How do you blow your load?'. I mean, seriously!?!?? They then went about asking random men in the street ”How do you blow your load?” (of course this meant “how do you spend your money?”) The smuttiness did not stop there. As Nastasha so eloquently put it 'Porn sells', therefore cue a photoshoot with a scantily clad woman pulling at her knickers and dressed in a suit jacket and hard hat (they seemed to be trying to create a naughty mixed up combination of Mr Benn and The Village People builder). Did anyone notice the model looked crossed eyed too?!

I have to get back to Natasha, I'm sure she doesn't intentionally mean to be funny, but some of her lines had me in stitches, such as: 'We don't want to drop our pants before we get in there.' She also referred to the term USP wayyyyy too many times. Perhaps not everyone knew that USP stands for unique selling point. Thanks to Natasha, the Chartered Institute of Marketing now don't need to teach this in any of their courses as she told the whole world 60 billion times about USP's!!!

Fast forward to the boardroom and the results...Initially it looked like Team Venture and their hideous sounding mag 'Hip Replacement' had sealed the deal with the most advertising space sold, but like all good boardroom scenes there is a twist (shock horror, ok not really). In the final moments Team Logic are revealed as the winners having sold a ridiculous amount of advertising space to one buyer to pip their rivals to the post (even though Lord Sugar questioned their magazine by asking 'So your magazine is a bit like the FT with a swimwear section?!' and some of the media buyers had commented that the magazine was a 'bit 90s and what FHM was doing back in 1997.') Of course we have the obligatory shots of the losing team looking thoroughly gutted and the winners leaping up and down like little children.

And so, Team Venture carry their sorry arses to the scabby truckers cafe (which apparently is a real cafe not some mock up with MDF walls in BBC Television Centre) to drown their sorrows with dishwater tea and dissect what went wrong. I mean what can go wrong with a magazine with the name Hip Replacement? As ever a beacon of optimism, Northern Irish Jim's eyes weren't smiling when he gloomily and unhelpfully said to his fellow losers 'I know what happens next.'

Jim decides to bring in Susan and geezer Glenn (who describes himself as a 'barrowboy done good'. He also declared in the heated moments of the boardroom that he was 'social secretary of a football club'. Funnily enough, this jewel of information didn't really impress the rolling eyes of Lord Sugar.) Personally they are all pretty rubbish. Susan came across as the tiny little squeaky mouse voice (or Bambi as Jim nicely refers to her, great to see Disney are getting a mention!) not making her point (though to her credit she is the only one who said the name Hip Replacement was a bad idea). They all get their personalities and actions cross examined and Jim doesn't escape lightly. Nick (good old Nick) pipes up that he feels Jim was a control freak throughout the task, with Karen nodding in agreement and chipping in that Jim is a 'passive aggressive personality.' Jim looks hurt for all of a milli second and then opens his mouth with a tirade of denials. There is a very funny moment when Jim and Susan are arguing over what he asked her to do through the task, he shouts to her 'pitch, pitch' but his regional accent makes it sound like he is barking 'bitch, bitch' at poor Bambi. Where's Thumper when you need him!?

They all squabble like desperate children trying to escape an old fashioned hiding. The music begins (to heighten the tension no doubt) and Lord Sugar does his normal thing of summing up each of the three and what he doesn't like about them. Geezer Glenn ultimately gets the chop with Lord Sugar pointing the finger at him and firing him with the lasting comment 'I've never seen an engineer who can turn his hand to business'. This comment has apparently not gone down very well with the Royal Society of Engineers! Bye bye Glenn, back to organising nights out at your local football club.

Eight candidates remain, who goes you decide (no wait, wrong show). Next week they are in Paris, and I'm already looking forward to seeing them stumble with their mispronounced French. Oo la la