Is it really that time of year already? Tonight I’ll take my seat with about 200 million viewers worldwide and watch the Eurovision Song Contest, taking place in Lisbon, Portugal. The £18 million show will see 26 countries go head-to-head with a diverse set of songs, and the vote will split between the public phone vote and their regional juries of pop-music experts. It’s three and a half hours of joyful silliness, amazing sets, outlandish costumes and dark mutterings about politics and the future of Europe. It’s a like a lavish wedding with all your strange and estranged relatives turning up in their most fabulous clothes, ready to get drunk, have a dance and air all those techy grievances. This powder keg is going to explode into a massive argument. There’s nothing you can do about it, so just enjoy the party.
A quick word about The Generation Game which started on BBC1 last weekend. I don’t think anyone even raised an eyebrow when Mel Giedroyc and Sue Perkins were announced as presenters. They’re the perfect pair on paper. And perhaps this was the perfect week to start the series with the nation’s focus firmly on entertainment shows, as poor lonely Declan Donnelly went solo on Saturday Night Takeaway. The Generation Game is a stone-cold classic Saturday night entertainment fixture, so the big mystery was why did the Beeb broadcast this on a Sunday? Do they get confused too about what day of the week it is when there’s a bank holiday?
So on Sunday, not Saturday, Mel and Sue in oddly colour-coordinated outfits welcome viewers to a stadium-sized sequin-bejazzled set. The pair are instantly very comfortable together making desperately cheesy jokes, as you imagine they do off-screen too. You’d go on as a contestant just to be able to give Mel and Sue a hug, despite the embarrassing tasks they have in store for you. The pair ably control the chaos and mak the contestants laugh, wandering around during the tasks, partly encouraging them and partly putting them off exactly like their Bake Off heyday.
Comedy roast are not all that common in the UK, despite this being the home of the Archbishop of Banterbury, Bantom of the Opera and the Bantersaurus Rex (lads! lads! lads!). While we’re very much at home with taking the piss out of each other in the pub, the playground and all-office emails, this kind of vicious verbal sparring in front of an audience is a format that we’re just not used to in merry old England. We leave that to the Americans, and a proud history they have of it too. Instantly this new Comedy Central show is a bit out of step for the British audience looking for funnies, with a post-apocalyptic set, macho gunshot sound track, and the studio audience expected to shout and point as well as drink and laugh. It’s all a bit too much to believe we can multitask like this.
I love stand-up comedy, on tv and especially live (shout out to the excellent Fat Penguin club nights in Birmingham – if you’re in the Midlands check them out), but I turned this on and watched it through my fingers. I didn’t was this format to fail, but it was bound to be a disaster, right? As The Guardian said “Roast battles and insult comedy? No thanks, we’re British”. But despite the silly gunshot noises and the heavy reliance on Paper Planes by MIA, the battles themselves were not as aggressive as I’d thought. If anything the style is collaborative; usually solo comics acting as a team, building on each other’s jokes, laughing at themselves and visibly enjoying the experience. I was all set to hate it but the four comedians in the first episode did such a good job they quickly won me over.
Robot Wars number one fan The Mighty Jontosaurus relives the highlights of the epic new series…
It came, it saw, it conquered, and it smashed absolutely everything into a thousand tiny pieces. The new series of Robot Wars was as destructive as I thought it would be, and in the end, history repeated itself when a mighty spinner and a powerful flipper met in the grand final. Reminiscent of the series 3 grand final where Hynodisc and Chaos 2- two of the most iconic machines in Robot Wars in history battled it out, with the latter triumphing, this year’s final saw the fantastic Carbide meet the entertaining Apollo in the final.
In wich guest blogger Jontosaurus has something to admit…
Jet was well fit. That is how I’m going to start my article – with a whole-hearted confession that yes, I did find her to be the best of all of the female Gladiators. I was probably too young to really understand what to do with my youthful hormones but I understood that Jet was young, attractive and ever so flexible. That was enough for me.
But I digress- it’s that time again where I delve into the annals of television history with very little protective gear and emerge with another artifact from television’s glorious past. It’s another nostalgia trip and, as you’ve probably worked out for my ever so subtle introduction, it’s the time for Gladiators to be put under the microscope. The show actually earned itself a reboot on Sky in the not too distant past.
When in doubt have a man come through a door with a gun in his hand. This could get to be pretty silly but somehow it didn’t seem to matter.
– Raymond Chandler
Murder in Successville‘s detective is a perfect comedy parody of Raymond Chandler’s archetype hard-boiled gumshoe Philip Marlow. Only DI Sleet has no discernible skills apart from escalating a situation out of all control and leaving his sidekick to mop up the mess.
Sleet, played by Tom Davis is a big presence on-screen – I mean, really big. Like an amiable bear in a trench coat, snarling and snapping in his raspy voice, ground down by the celeb-on-celeb crime in Successville, lonely and hard-drinking. But it’s not all noir in this improv-comedy-parody-celebity-gameshow. Set him up with the right partner and he’s cheeky, witty and very fuckable if you like that sort of thing (I do).
As you can tell this is a show that defies convention. How it got commissioned I’ve no idea. But I’m very glad it did.
Peer pressure. It’s peer pressure plain and simple.
The Top Gear reboot was going to be such a big event it was unavoidable. Everyone was going to have a loud and aggressive opinion about it so last night I found myself putting it on at 8pm sharp, telling Mr H not to get too used to it. Neither of us drive, so it’s pretty difficult to be entertained by what is essentially a car review show.
As far as I can tell, Top Gear has always been awful. Either too serious, too factual and too boring in its initial inception and then after the 2002 relaunch too stupid, too loud and too macho. The presenters were men old enough to know better running around growling politically incorrect nonsense and shouting their surnames at each other like retarded public school boys.