Wonders of the Depravity of Reality Tv Producers.

I'm back! What do you mean was I gone? I've been gone for weeks and your saying that you didn't even notice that I was away! Well that's just fine! No I mean it. Fine! To make up for my being away for so long this post was going to be epic. It was going to make you laugh and then cry. It was going to contain a nipple slip and a clip of a symphony that I have composed made up entirely of brown notes and notes oscillating at a frequency that would tickle you pleasure centre like a dildo covered in sexy ants. And only then, after your cacophony of shitting ecstasy, would you get a pissey review of a film with which to remind your selves how lost you were without my guidance.

But seeing as though you have barely noticed my being away (I have web statistics as evidence) I will proceed straight on to the reviews with none of the aforementioned grandstanding.

TV is awful at the moment. Usually I have around four shows with which I try to keep up with but at the moment that number is down to just one, that being the reintroduction of Prof Brian Cox and his wonders of the universe. The wonder of wonders is the wonderful way in which it avoids dumbing down. Brian Cox stands behind you coaxing you along “come on, you can do this, I know it's hard but trust me, stick with it look, see, you do get it you cleaver bastard. Now go down to the pub and talk about the reverse entropy involved in downing a pint. Go on your friends will love you for it.”

At the other end of the scale there has been a slightly worrying trend in reality competition TV. That being the inclusion of additional elements into the mix making shows all the more convoluted and often sinister. In the early days of reality TV we had shows like Airport. Where we followed the lives of those working in the airport. There were no winners, no losers, the show took a loose documentary format and became what was termed a docusoap. Were that to be broadcast now the passengers on the plane would probably vote on the quality of trolley dolly service with the winner receiving a book deal and a meals on wheels franchise and the looser being ejected from the plane some where over Greenland.

This week my attention was drawn towards a frankly frightening program broadcast some where deep in the realms of Sky TV. I am going to outline the concept of the program, but you wont believe me. You are probably going to think that I have ripped off a joke from Allan Partrige or Jack Donaghy, but I haven't. It is true, every word of it.

The Show is called Bridalplasty and it combines elements from The Generation Game, America's Next Top Model, Big Brother, The Apprentice, Extreme Make Over, Amazon DOT com and The Book of Revelation. Brides to be live together in a house and vote weekly to get rid of the other brides until one remains and is declared the winner. So far, so standard. This is where it starts to get what can only be described as 'fucked up.' Each of the 'brides to be' has a grizzly 'wish list' of plastic surgery. These typically contain nose jobs, boob enlargements, tummy tucks, face lifts and other stuff that I don't know about nor care to discuss. Each week there are a series of generation game style challenges, the episode I was subjected to had quite a quaint game in which the brides were presented with two of various foods associated with weddings, one of which was of a premium variety and the other was from a dollar store with a little extra ingredient such as compost in the cake. The brides would then have to successfully identify the quality product. Imagine this on Bruce Forsyth's generation game and you will see smiles and gentle encouragement from the host and fellow contestants alike. Not so on Bridalplasty! The host berates the contestants and keeps asserting that the purpose of the game (or test as she refers to it) is to determine who is the classiest and who is trash. Footage of the game is intersected by cut-aways of contestants bad mouthing each other in interviews recorded after the event. The winner of the competition becomes top bride for the week is whisked away to have her surgery and can't be voted out that week. Later she is returned to the house to stay in the recovery room (usually looking something like Frankenstein's monster, cue more bitching). Then some kind of vote takes place and one bride is eliminated. In the long run those eliminated early are unquestioningly the winner as they get to return to their fiancé unscathed by surgery.

I don't think the show requires a review the above description will suffice.

Don't have nightmares.

Bands With Girls Names Special: Emma's Imagination and Suzi Won

Ok music reviews and something a little bit different. I am going to review another product of reality TV but to balance this out I am going to review a local unsigned band as well. Let us start with the (slightly) more famous of the two.

Emma’s Imagination: Stand Still 6/10

Scottish Singer Song Writer Emma Gillespie shot to prominence after winning Sky One’s Must Be The Music. Actually that isn’t exactly correct let me rephrase. Emma Gillespie would have shot to prominence after winning Sky One’s Must Be The Music if in fact anyone was actually watching it. Now I hadn’t ever seen Must Be The Music and came across Emma’s Imagination quite by accident on YouTube where I saw what I presume was her audition piece for the show. What I will say for Must Be The Music is that it sounds a damn site more interesting than the karaoke hen night from hell that has become the X-Factor. On the show (wait for it, this will blow your mind.) artists play instruments and perform original material, I would like to remind folks that the only time original material has been performed on the X-Factor was when Chico performed his physics bothering anthem Chico Time.

Stand Still consists of ten well-crafted acoustic led songs. At 27 Emma is an artist who has both found her sound and who’s songs have lost little through their studio arrangements which though loaded with instruments have maintained something of a DIY sound particularly noticeable in the steel guitar featured on the track soul of oceans. There is nothing revolutionary on this album and her being both Scottish and talented will lead to fair comparisons to KT Tunstal and even Texas.

The album is top heavy in quality and by the midway point interest does begin to wain however this CD would sit comfortably in a dinner party play list holding its own against Norah Jones, KT Tunstal and Corrin Bailly Rae.

Suzi:Won www.myspace.com/suziwon

I was in a band once. We weren’t what critics would describe as good but we had a fucking fantastic time doing it and would enthuse about it in the boorish way that people in bands do. Knowing that this was once me I am always happy to hear about amateur bands and love the enthusiasm that their members show when telling anyone who will listen about their influences and when their next gig is. I came across a member of Suzi:Won when he was working in a Chemist. I work for a newspaper and upon hearing this contact details and a myspace account were pushed into my palm all of the time while I protested that I probably couldn’t help. As it turned out I couldn’t help but I thought I might contribute to their presence in what little way I can by talking a little about them here.

I haven’t been on Myspace for a long time and I know you probably won’t have either. Well let me tell you it is still fucking ugly, with colour schemes that even a grandmother wouldn’t describe as bold and page designs that frankly boggle the mind in terms of the prominence of various items. However I really should move onto the music.

Suzi:Won are based in Newcastle England and produce what they describe as Electro Rock but what others may describe as Electro Emo. No don’t stop reading come back here! Playing in Phantom of the Opera style masks (what isn’t to love) singing fantastically camp lyrics (“Your hitting me with your hands/I’m hitting back with my heart”) and choruses that wouldn’t sound out of place in a piece of 90’s hard house this band have a sense of fun so often lacking in rock music of any sub-genre.

In a Day is a song that wouldn’t be out of place in a Hollywood version of an American teen party. Pop synths, intersect with reverb laden guitar to produce a sound that at first sounds epic before inducing chair dancing with the introduction of the drums. High production values help to mask slightly nasal vocals but by the time you have heard the chorus this doesn’t matter as you are hooked by the good time pop sensibility of the thing.

Now Iz Us is not a good name for a song and falls only slightly below Sk8r Boi in my imaginary worst song titles ever list. However unlike Sk8r Boi the song its self has merit with some lovely sustained guitars, euro synths and 80’s hard rock bass drum sounds. Whilst the song isn’t as instantly arresting as ‘In a Day’ it maintains its high production values and musicianship. Vocals remain high in the mix and the song serves to remind me of Men Women and Children, The Bravery and maybe even some less-dance centric of The Rapture’s early material.

Taking it Back maintains a heavier rock sound throughout with stretched lyrics and the same brand of silky production that first brought Linkin Park and Lost Prophets screaming into the mainstream my only hope is that they haven’t come to this party a little too late.
Broken Rock Stars starts with some wonderful glitch synth sounds that form the dirty underbelly of the track which ultimately lacks a hook. A nice synth breakdown and half time drums in the middle of the song showcases the big sound that this band can craft but ultimately they seem torn between the easy pop sounds of In a Day and this more musically mature (though not necessarily as interesting) style.

All in all an album may be a bit much for me at this stage but their big sound and sing a long choruses should see them gain a good reputation as a live band and from there I am sure a great album will follow.

Suzi : Won will be playing at the Riverside on February the 5th for more details check their Myspace.

White Lies new effort will be the next album up in front of the firing squad.

A Partridge Taster Menu with Extra Cock au D'Affaires

The Apprentice 7/10
Alan Partridge: Mid Morning Matters 8/10
The Trip ???



So this is a little bit late (again), but I don’t care and neither should you. We all have lives away from the internet. Get off my back will you, you’re not my boss. Just fuck off. I’ve brought more to this team than anyone. I have given 110%, alright. I have worked my arse off since moment one, I really am the best person for this job and I have so much more to give.

You may have guessed that ‘The Apprentice’ is on again and whilst still enjoyable it does seem to have moved yet further away from its original concept. The early series would pit savvy decision makers against salesmen and strategists. The most recent series cast Nobs against Cocks and like in any fencing contest between two baloney ponies all participants end up looking stupid once the event has been edited and broadcast stressing not the sporting intention of the contest but frankly making the whole thing look a little bit gay.
Contestants this year are on the whole conforming to the following statements: Arrogance over Ability and Rhetoric over Action. Which, if any of the producers had done the maths they would have seen the result:

Ability=a= 4
Arrogance=g= 77344
Rhetoric=r= 1740240
Action=n= 45
(g/a)+(r/n) = (77344/4)+(1740240/45)=58008
Now turn the calculator upside down, and there you have it Boobs.

All the same humongous dicks are funny to watch although when we are honest we are all glad we don’t have one to work with (titter).

Last week saw the internet return of Mr Allan Partridge. Sadly Mr Coogan couldn’t be cajoled into another series featuring the hapless chat show host (or thankfully a film) wanting to instead cast off the character and move into film. However the money must have been right from Fosters who have sponsored a series of ten minute shorts from Partridge’s 'show' on North Norfolk Radio. It is basically all the best bits of foot in mouth fun without the narrative drama that accompanied the series. The quite brilliant Tim Key makes an appearance in this first episode and all in all the show provides a great coffee time chortle. The choice of format is interesting and I wait to see if it is judged to be a success.
Watch it here and drink some bland Australian beer http://goo.gl.n23cZ

Also Coogan was out and about on the telly with Rob Brydon in Episode Two of The Trip (Directed by no less than Michael Winterbottom). I still don’t know what to say. It is one of those comedies that you don’t laugh at and is therefore difficult to talk about. I have decided that I like it… Other than that I really don’t know. Feel free to contribute your own feelings on this one. I may actually write a proper review of it one day…

A Horror History X Factor Trip

X Factor 3/10
A History of Horror 9/10
The Trip ?/10

Simon Cowell’s personality is a vacuous cavern so deep that it is playing havoc with the studio’s acoustics. Either that or the sound engineers only previous experience working with microphones was at the karaoke night in a Mcloed Gauge, “More echo Frank, you really need it to create an atmosphere in here.” (Oh yes I did. That was a Joke that requires knowledge of historic lab equipment used in the study of Vacuums, big up to the chuckling geeks.) But really what the fuck is going on with that echo. This week there was only the one outstanding performance, that of Rebecca Fergusson who oozed class although the fawning over Cher Lloyds performance from Simon Cowell suggested that he has picked his winner. However, I believe that Satin’s geometric haired smug monkey was more pleased with the fact that Cher will toe the line than with anything relating to her stretched vocals.

A warning to those who found this review by googling something relating to the X-Factor I am now going to talk about a documentary shown on BBC4. If you are one of the aforementioned go on find BBC4 on your telly you might learn something… Mark Gatiss (of league of Gentlemen fame) has produced what can only be described as a wonderful three part documentary series in which he looks at the three golden ages of Horror cinema (Fuck off Eli Roth you’re not invited). All his enthusiasm for the subject comes across without him going all Louis Theroux with the interviews. If you are quick you can still catch it on iplayer along with a few of the films discussed in full. I wouldn’t usually advise such unwholesome viewing but watch the documentary first and it all the guts and gore seems somewhat justified.

Here’s one to watch. The Trip is a sit-com starring Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon. Playing themselves the pair go on a road trip together to review a restaurants in ‘The North.’ Just one episode into the series and I am withholding judgement until I have seen some more. I advise you tune in just in case you are missing something special, so far it could go either way.

Do you have the X Factor? No but I do have a massive wang.

The Inbetweeners Series Three 8/10
The X Factor 6/10

This week’s TV digest will focus on some nobs acting like pricks and some dicks singing in front of a panel of golden wangs. In honour of one (or both) of these programs it may also contain one or two phallic references.

So let us get started with the Inbetweeners. For those of you who don’t know the Inbetweeners follows some ‘typical’ teenage boys (typical in that they are colossal wankers) and is written by at least one of the brains that brought us ‘Flight of the Conchords.’ Will, a socially awkward geek has to transfer from a private school to the local comprehensive to complete his A-levels. There he is befriended by three misfits: lovable but easily led Simon, brash and boastful Jay and Neil who is as thick as two short planktons. Series Three finds the quartet in the upper sixth and still pre-occupied by the holy trinity of booze, parties and ‘clunge’ (a new word for me but one that apparently refers to a vagina as in the phrase “Balls deep in clunge.”)

I am so ashamed that I like this program that was I to be watching it in your presence I wouldn’t laugh, quite the opposite. I would dig my nails (specially grown for the occasion, you didn’t just drop in) into my thighs and think of Gordon Brown speaking on fiscal prudence instead of letting you know which nob joke or teenage sexual fallacy I found so amusing. I have to admit that the show does parallel some of my school experience (although the characters do seem to be a little old for some of their behaviour) I certainly met a Neil and the Jay character can be found in all schools private or comprehensive. In honour of Jay I will leave this section with my top three sex boasts that I remember hearing at school:

3. “Yeah we do all sorts, last night she tit wanked in front of me.” It turned out he believed a ‘tit wank’ was when a girl QUOTE: “Wanks her nipple till milk comes out.”
2. I had sex at the top of the Eiffel Tower with a French girl I met in the lift. I don’t have her name or number because she didn’t speak English.
1. I broke my wrist when I was fingering a bird on the bus and it hit a bump.

Now that we have dealt with that filth let us move on to the glitter infused, self-congratulatory public stooge fest that is the X Factor.

The X Factor is currently in that awkward phase of the program where most of the nutters have been weeded out but the field still stinks of mediocrity. Few of us in the public have much invested in any of the acts and at this point we can all pick out at least five contestants who will be making their way to the openings of grim shopping centres over the next five weeks or so. Yet we watch. This weekend’s shows offered the following highlights:

• The Arctic Monkey’s arrangement of ‘Diamonds are Forever’ being dragged out from somewhere.
• Katie singing a song from the jungle book.
• Rebecca Fergusson appearing with what appeared to be her abscess twin attached to her hip.

I would like to comment on one final thing, the length of the program. Where the hell is all the extra content coming from? The format certainly hasn’t changed. I have a theory; let us look at the Cream egg: 1.They are definitely getting smaller each year. 2. You can’t destroy or create energy. Conclusion: that bastard Simon Cowell is shrinking our cream eggs and using the left over energy to make the X factor longer than ever.

Tut tut Simon Tut tut.