The utter shite that is modern TV!

People used to get very excited about what special ‘treats’ the main channels would offer at Christmas. Not any more.

The top ten ratings for Christmas Day 2018 indicate a big decline.

The Queen’s Christmas Broadcast took the No1 slot with a meagre 6.3 million viewers. Some social justice warriors took offence because Her Maj was sat by a golden piano. Zzzzzz …

Michael McIntyre’s Big Christmas Show came second with 6.1m viewers. Of course, I didn’t watch it! Because I’m not a thick person, that’s why!

McIntyre is one of many so-called comedians favoured by the BBC that I not only don’t find funny, but who also come across as intensely irritating. John Bishop is another.

Coronation Street is the only ITV product in the top ten – with a measly 4.6m watching. What a spectacular decline! Corrie used to pull in more than 20 million viewers per episode back in the 1980s. Mind you, back then it wasn’t the unrelenting tale of abject misery it is now.

I am frequently horrified at the utter banality of TV offerings. Television aims low, and the result is the turning of the viewing public into morons. Those that don’t take the sensible option of switching off, that is, and reading a book, or going for a walk, or going to the pub (all three are better options that staring at the idiot’s lantern).

Of course, the decline of terrestrial TV is only one part of the story. Many people now turn to streaming services instead. But from what I see they are no better – too way too much gun-toting and car-chasing for my liking. And as for things such as Game of Thrones, really? Are people so dumb they take that stuff seriously?

I did watch a bit of telly over the festive period. The bio-drama Torvill & Dean (ITV) wasn’t TOO bad (certainly well cast), though it did have some flaws. It fudged the issue of whether there was sexual attraction between the skaters. Also, that sequence filmed through a bus window didn't work. It ought to have been edited out. Plus, the drama was way too long.

I also start to watch the Bond film Quantum of Solace. But only for the opening 15 minutes or so, which was so predictable – loads of car-chasing, gun-shooting, and macho men (I’m guessing stunt doubles rather than actors) leaping across exotic rooftops etc. Boring!

When it came for a bit of straightforward acting in the film, I simply couldn’t bear to watch Daniel Craig as 007. The man looks like he’s permanently and painfully constipated.

And talking of luvvies, I’m so sick of seeing them front up slow-motion compassion porn adverts for charities. Crying children, chained donkeys etc. Then the luvvies urge you to “text CARE to give just £3 per month”, which presumably goes to funding the next ridiculous advert, or other marketing bullcrap, or the inflated salaries of charity bosses.

Anyhoo, here’s wishing you a happy and hopefully screen-reduced New Year. You will feel much better for it.     

Hmmm ... not half bad - C4's Hang Ups

It's not often I see anything to raise even a wry smile on Channel 4.

C4's schedule is crammed with awful home-grown rubbish for thick people - such as Bake Off (nicked from the Beeb), Hollyoaks, Come Dine With Me, and endless repeats of US sitcoms.

But Hang Ups is not half bad. It's well cast and well acted.

It's about a stressed and relatively new therapist, Dr Richard Pitt (Stephen Mangan), who's trying to cover his debts by offering counselling sessions by video link to various people who are crazy in the coconuts. 

Best (i.e. most darkly entertaining) of Richard's clients is a hard man Neil Quinn (played by Steve Oram) to whom the therapist owes a lorra lorra money.

Mangan carries the show with entertaining displays of his character's stressful life, personal dysfunctionality and VERY irritating family.

This sitcom has a most whizzy pace, which is at first distracting, but ultimately adds to the dark comedic charm on offer throughout.

There are plenty of outrageous sexual references - good, and commendably British, of course! - and the best of those are delivered in a deadpan way by Richard E. Grant, who is the therapist to our therapist protagonist, played so expressively by Mangan.

It's a comedy that says something quite profound about the breakdown of social and family relationships in our contemporary, digitally obsessed society. Well, we might as well laugh - as our world is clearly heading for Hell in handcart.

Hang Ups,  which is also co-written by Mangan, is an adapted version of an US comedy TV show called Web Therapy. I haven't seen the US original, but I've heard the British version is much better - and somehow I have no difficulty in believing that.

Macron & Trump – they got it so wrong!

The Macron / Trump thing that played out on TV news over the past few days is not what it seems.

Predictably, it was from the start misreported by the networks who always make the mistake, editorially, of speaking to filmed images in their reporting. 

No, dummies! Actually, you don’t have to report things that way just because it’s television. Paradoxically, in this sort of story, wise words and news analysis are far more important than images.

Trump’s and Macron’s bromance antics in front of camera were very obviously insincere – certainly on the part of Macron, who is intelligent, compared to Trump, who’s as thick as pig shit.

But even Trump was playing a game – not with any finesse, of course.

The political establishment in Trump’s own country can’t abide him, for the very good reason that he totally lacks the grace, intelligence, and dignity desirable – though in recent decades not always present –  in a President of the United States.

So, the POTUS, rather childishly, used this state visit to show the swamp of Washington that at least one other national leader (apart from Kim Jon-un) has respect for him. And clearly, more than respect ... love.  

That was the unsubtle message. And Macron was, superficially at least, prepared to reciprocate all those undignified hands-on signs of affection that Trump lavished on him.

Now, I know there were as a background to this state visit quite a lot of opportunities to be seized for geopolitical posing and positioning in what is now, frankly, a very volatile world.

But I don’t think those opportunities will lead to anything – because all intelligent observers will (following initial sniggering) have been disgusted by the tackiness of the displays put on by both men. 

The games Trump and Macron played for the TV cameras are not right or fitting for national leaders. In the long term, they will both lose because of their antics.  

And while Macron did do well to keep a straight face as the chump that is Trump chuntered on inarticulately during their speeches at the White House on Tuesday, frankly those scenes will not sit comfortably with the French people or the international community.

Trump is clearly a narcissist of the most vulgar variety, and I have long suspected that, for all his waffle about democracy and liberty, Macron is also a narcissist, albeit of a rather subtle variety.

I’m going to end this posting with a link to a very good American satire about Trump, by the New York-based comedian Randy Rainbow. In this, Mr Rainbow (his real name, apparently!) lambasts Trump to great effect.

The piece includes the line, addressed to Trump: “You are a grabby, braggadocious creep-o.” The musical routine takes a while to get started but it is hilarious and performed with an arch campness of a high British rather than American standard. Enjoy, and at the same time, be afraid …

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LTosB6V_V24

Mel & Sue's Generation Game - TV for thick people

There's obviously been some insider bitching going on at the BBC about how awful the new series is of The Generation Game.

I don't need any persuading. Even by the abysmally low standards of TV light entertainment, the launch show on Sunday (1 April) was utter crap.

Mel Giedroyc and Sue Perkins are both unconvincing as they try to chummy up with the contestants. This pair have made a very good living out of being condescending to ordinary people (including viewers) in recent years.

Perkins is smugness personified. There is a bit more human warmth to Giedroyc - but neither is a good communicator.

This first show was over-cheery and fatuous in tone from the opening 'game', which was basically a silly pottery-making scenario, featuring the over-rated Johnny Vegas, who's clearly a MUCH better potter than he is a comedian or comedy actor.

And, oh, when the contestants had to handle wet clay to make a handle for a teapot, goodness me, didn't it look like they were stroking a wet penis?!

Well, that might have been funny - but not with Mel and Sue pulling their annoying arch faces, and Johnny Vegas tittering away in the background.

And anyway, the pottery thing with Vegas had been done before - on The Generation Game in 2005. How unimaginative to start a new series of an old format with a repeated feature.

Next up in the 'new' show was a Bollywood-style dance troupe. Great movers they were, but it was simply patronising to expect overweight and middle aged contestants to replicate those sort of routines.

But, hey, that's what contemporary TV is all about - making fun of ordinary people who've paid their TV licences. 

Well that, and paying mediocrities such as Mel and Sue way too much money.

Also, I couldn't see the point on having two 'celebrity guests' on the new show. Some speccy geek from a boring panel show was one. The other was Lorraine Kelly.

I used to have a lot of time for Lorraine, but as her daytime ITV show reveals, she's now all too happy to take the money for being regarded as 'TV talent'. She uses her airtime to big up the unimportant things in life - such as ageing pop stars, other light entertainment fluffheads and endless fashion shite. 

There is very little genuine talent among the industry's perceived pool of 'TV talent'.

There is much that is damaging to contemporary society in the output of mainstream TV. In shamelessly catering for what it considers to be its brain-dead viewers, television is, sadly, making more and more people very, very stupid indeed.

And frankly, that dynamic is causing serious damage to the proper transmission of human identity in a country where, anyway,  education and moral training are failing alarmingly fast.

I intend to challenge the practices and programme content of TV.

Someone needs to do that ... and change the game for the sake of future generations. 

Watch this space.
   

It really was ... The Greatest!

It’s not often I go to see a play, but I’m a happier and more reflective man for having experienced ‘The Greatest’ at the Oran Mor in Glasgow.

It’s a drama rammed with sharp, jokey dialogue, but it also makes you think seriously about life – about being an outsider (even when young) and about what ageing brings in this era of care homes.

As the title suggests, it’s also about Muhammad Ali, and a visit he made to Scotland in the 1960s.

As we watch a friendship develop between a resident of the care home, Jimmy (Billy MacBain) and the slightly truculent but likeable young blogger Orwell (Rebekah Lumsden), a strange and pleasing story emerges of how Jimmy as a young man had knocked out Muhammad Ali before a wee sparring session got a chance to start.

Ali didn't even have time to pick up his gloves all those years ago when Jimmy – overcome with delight at meeting his hero – decked the world champ! Young Jimmy got slapped around a bit for doing that, but I guess it was worth it.

This play’s written by Alan Muir, a good friend of mine. I used to work with him when we were reporters for the same newspaper in Scotland 20-odd years ago. Even back then I recognised his very strong writing talent, his observational skill and distinct, every-present humour.

But, believe me, this write-up of mine is no puff-piece to boost a pal’s developing career as a writer.

I really, really enjoyed Alan’s play, which was deftly directed by Ron Bain. Its short run to packed houses at the Oran Mor has now finished but there are hopes of staging it elsewhere – perhaps as a part of the Edinburgh Fringe.

I laughed out loud throughout, cried once, and was given to rueful reflection at some very moving scenes. Towards the end, a sad bit was quickly followed by some neat, vulgar wit. That’s good for me; I’m a big fan of sadness and vulgarity.

Overall though, ‘The Greatest’ was simply very uplifting – as was marked by the big standing ovation it received.

When the show finished I made a point of telling Billy McBain how much I’d enjoyed his performance. I’ve only done that sort of thing twice before – once to Babs Windsor in a pub in Soho, London, and another time to Lesley Joseph in a pub in Liverpool. I was quite sober when I spoke to Billy - but I was very, very drunk when  I expressed my admiration to Babs and Lesley. All three actors, it must be said, responded with good grace and charm. Babs even kissed me!

After the show finished in Glasgow, I trundled off with Alan Muir and my other friends, and we drank like journalists. A perfect evening.