This week, thinking about what I could blog about I had two choices. I could either video myself drowning a kitten or I could have a moan about some national treasures. Not having a kitten to hand, I am going with the latter.
Ant n Dec….what happened? I’ve always liked them over the years and they have done fantastically well to have such a great career as presenters especially as Ant has trouble speaking. Their laid back, likable style has made watching them a pleasure and despite my complete hatred for all reality style TV, each winter I tolerate I’m a Celeb, mainly as I have no choice in my house and they make it watchable. That format too, I think, is getting dreadfully tired though and I wonder how long that can limp on.
Yesterday I was channel hopping in the afternoon and I stumbled across last week’s Saturday Night Takeaway. I turned over just as the “end of the show show” was starting. I watched it slack-jawed, and at times through my fingers as my toes had already curled so much they were not available.
Now, having seen lots of criticism of their recent hosting of the Brits, I held no truck with that. The Brits are a poisoned chalice and it doesn’t matter who presents them, they do badly. The cavernous venue just doesn’t lend itself to the close up intimate look to camera style of Ant n Dec so it felt false and corny. I thought nothing of it and moved on from the Brits and got on with my life continuing to wonder how Chris Martin gets away with singing a semi-tone flat in every song.
Now having endured the car crash of Takeaway I do wonder if they have gone full Tarbuck on us and are trying so desperately to channel Morecambe, Wise, Edmonds and Forsyth that they have somehow lost their own identity. I mean, what….is……this???
What do I not like about it? Well, it’s like a bad pastiche of a Carry On mixed with an episode of the Serbian version of the Generation Game. Random “celebs” just wandering about the stage gurning at the camera (What does Ashley Roberts do for a living?”) and Ant n Dec reduced to very bad pantomime performances. If this is the pinnacle of Saturday night entertainment I’d settle for a week full of Mondays. Novocaine for the masses served up in lovely bright colours. Still, they wear nice suits don’t they.
Come on chaps, this is poor and beneath you. I know they have been honest about mixing in old shows like Game For a Laugh, House Party and all those old classics, but they are old for a reason. The world has moved on, Edmonds is relegated to a dodgy game show on a minor channel and no-one has seen Henry Kelly outside of a re-run of Going For Gold in over twenty years.
Given the chance of a prime time TV slot on a Saturday please have some ambition. If we aren’t being asked to vote for some amateurs doing something they shouldn’t, we are subjected instead to this banal, hackneyed nonsense. It’s a shame lads as I really think you are good at what you do but this is TV tapioca. As a warning for where you are heading, can I just point you at this prescient piece of genius from Rik Mayall.
I doubt anyone will forgive me for this one, so if there is anyone still around next week…
Till the next time……