Narrative displeasure: Cracks and Creeks

I've been extremely busy with work this Easter weekend with one thing and another. This meant that I missed the first Matt Smith / Steven Moffat episode of Doctor Who at its (rather early?) 6.20pm slot on Saturday night, although I did manage to catch it on iPlayer later that evening.

First things first: I thought Smith was excellent as the Doctor. I also thought Karen Gillan did a good job as his assistant, and I felt the opening scenes of him with the young Amelia were really well done. Although the giant eyeball-cum-spaceship looked a bit flimsy, I felt the overall production values of the show had been turned up a notch. I loved the stop motion scene when we were seeing the village green through the Doctor's eyes shot by shot; it almost felt like I was watching a film in the cinema rather that a Saturday night show on the BBC. Yes, the theme music is different and seems to be missing a rather key note in the eerie whistle-y melody whilst also featuring a big brass band. However, this isn't really a big deal in the great scheme of things, and I was more upset when the Neighbours theme tune changed from keyboard to saxophone.

I've written previously about how I've really enjoyed Moffat's episodes in past series. I think Moffat's real strengths lie in creating tension, creepy narrative hooks ("don't blink" or, on Saturday, "the corner of your eye"), strong female characters and absorbing stand-alone stories. My fear is whether he'll be able to offer us engrossing ongoing storylines (like Russell T Davies' 'Bad Wolf' mystery), scary aliens (his most successful episodes have featured creepy 'things' rather than gooey monsters) and, most importantly, the long-term characterisation of the Doctor himself (don't forget that Moffat's most heralded episode - Blink - barely even featured David Tennant, and was driven by the one-off character of Sally Sparrow, played by the now Bafta-winning actress, Carey Mulligan).

Although I think Saturday's episode got off to a great start with a strong story, I think the story could have been told a lot better. The concept was brilliantly creepy; a little girl has a crack in her bedroom wall, through which a shape-shifting prisoner from another world has escaped and has been hiding in a secret room in her house for over a decade. This part of the story was told really well. But then the second spooky aspect - the fact that this escaped alien prisoner can take the form of human beings by latching on to, and becoming a visual representation of, their dreams - was lost in all of the running around in the second half of the episode. Coma patients are the best victims for this because they are permanently asleep, but it was only when the alien targeted Amy's unconscious after she collapsed in the hospital ward - and significantly changed into the young Amelia with the 'raggedy Doctor' because that's what she dreams about - that this part of the story really became clear (to me, at least).

So, in my opinion, the episode was by no means perfect, but overall a fantastic start to a new era of Dr Who, and I can't wait to see what Moffat comes up with next. 

And now I move from a good story which could have been told better, to a rubbish story which was told even more terribly than the story itself. Yes, that's right, it's time for me to ramble once more about THE SHITNESS OF JONATHAN CREEK.

Paul McGann, who was the eighth Doctor and also starred in the Easter special of Jonathan Creek. What a link!

I don't know why I bother these days. The one-off special in January 2009 pushed the boundaries of the ridiculous too far, but this year's episode didn't even bother with the boundaries in the first place. Call me a 21st century media consumer with no attention span whatsoever, but are we really meant to remember who Sheridan Smith's character is and how she knows Creek after she made her debut over a year ago in a one-off episode? Is Creek *really* the kind of man to chat up a bird at a bus stop and take her home for some spur-of-the-moment hanky panky? HOW DID THEY ESCAPE FROM THE BASEMENT? 

I'm sorry to those who have no idea what I'm banging on about, but these are just a few of my gripes. The strengths of Jonathan Creek in its glory days were always the writing and Creek's gentle, self-deprecating humour. Now, it seems that the writers are grasping at straws trying to throw in a few illusion-related mysteries for the sake of it, with a bunch of dislikable characters who all roam around their country mansions whilst plotting ridiculously-complicated crimes that the audience has no chance of guessing whatsoever. Then, when Creek figures it all out - HE LETS THEM GET AWAY WITH IT! No narrative closure and a pointless waste of time for all involved. A bit like this blog post, then.

Running a marathon Izz-ard? Not for our Eddie

Last autumn I had the privilege to meet Eddie Izzard at the Labour Party Conference. I normally get really shy around celebrities, but I got chatting to his assistant at a party and plucked up the courage to ask her for an introduction. I didn't speak to him for long as I was a bit starstruck, plus he had squillions of other people clamouring all over him, but I did manage to give him a big handshake to congratulate him on managing to run a mind-blowing 43 marathons in just 51 days to raise money for Sport Relief that summer. 

He was extremely modest about his accomplishment, but having now watched two episodes of Marathon Man, which documents Eddie's mammoth challenge, I must admit I am completely blown away by his stamina, grit and determination. I'm by no means an athlete so I can't speak from experience (although I did manage a TWELVE MINUTE run recently), but from those crazy individuals I know who have run marathons, the last thing they'd want to do is to run another one the day after that, and the day after, and the day after. And so on. 

But Eddie manages to keep going. And the weird thing is, that he NEVER seems to be out of breath. After my 12-minute run I was (shamefully) gasping and could barely speak, yet Eddie seems to finish each of his marathons with no panting and can quite easily manage a conversation, seemingly without any need for recovery time. Fair enough if you're a professional athlete, but the whole premise of this challenge is that Eddie had never run more than 5 miles before.

 

It seems to me that, although Eddie is certainly not a natural athlete, he appears to possess a sort of super-human natural fitness that some professional sports competitors could only fantasise about. In the most recent episode (2 of 3), Eddie's support crew got a bit concerned about his diet as he didn't seem to be eating the right sort of food for the amount of calories he was burning off. A dietitian was drafted in, who convinced Eddie to consume a mountain of potatoes each night. But this regime only lasted one day before he was back on the ice creams, Calippos, coffee, pints and vodka shots along the way.

The programme is really inspiring, and I think my favourite parts of the documentary are when local people run or cycle alongside Eddie to encourage him to keep going. In Merseyside two young lads cycled the furthest they'd ever been, and one of the boys described it as the best day of his life (the crew called their mums to get their permission, then responsibly bought them cycle helmets and high visibility vests, which got my seal of approval. I trust they gave them a lift back home, too....).

If you haven't watched the programme I'd really urge you to do so. The first two episodes are on iPlayer, David Tennant is the narrator, and the final one is broadcast this Thursday at 10.30pm on BBC3 (bad scheduling in my opinion). Oh, and you can donate to Sport Relief here.

Image from Sport Relief.

This is not the Facebook login page either

Today was supposed to be really fun. I was meant to be taking part in a TV show called 'Restaurant in our Living Room' where me and some friends were going to be dinner guests in a celebrity's home (we didn't ever find out who). But I've had such a busy week at work that when the call came through from the producers yesterday to presumably offer us our dining places I was in a meeting. And I didn't leave my voicemail on. So the opportunity sadly passed us by.

Despite this letdown, a couple of things have made me laugh A LOT today.

Firstly, this:

Top tip: It's annoying when you have to pay for condiments when you go to the chippy or eat out. I carry a pencil case stuffed with sachets of sauce, salt, pepper and vinegar, so I'm never without my extras.

This kind of behaviour definitely isn't normal, right?! I mean, surely the whole point of a takeaway is that you take it home, where hopefully you have a nice array of condiments in your kitchen cupboard. And personally I can't remember the last time I ate in a restaurant where they charged me extra for a dollop of Ketchup. But also, where on earth can you actually buy these small sachets? Unless you happen to regularly visit the cash and carry, I think they're probably quite difficult to get hold of. In which case, this 'top tip' is advocating theft!

Or so I thought until this very evening, as I was ascending the escalator at Leicester Square tube station. You see, as I was moving upwards, a dapper-looking gentleman was travelling in the opposite direction on the corresponding escalator. As he passed one of these 'stand on the right' ridges between the two escalators I noticed he picked something up that had been resting on the side of the sign that had been facing him. A sachet of tomato sauce! He looked at his new possession, nodded at it approvingly and placed it in his coat pocket with a very satisfied look on his face. As I passed this ridge I looked back, and lo and behold there was also a barbecue sauce tub resting there as well! So obviously *that's* how you acquire these mini saucy treats. Vigilance, people, vigilance!

Despite the TV show disappointment I met up with my friends who I had been due to go on the show with for a lovely dinner anyway. Then I got home to discover this. Now I don't normally write about online / social media stuff as there are loads of other bloggers who do this much better than me, but I must say that this is one of the funniest things I've seen online for a while. Basically the well-known tech blog ReadWriteWeb posted a news item about Facebook, and the post's headline happened to include the words 'Facebook' and 'login'. Now, it turns out that lots of less tech-savvy Facebook users sign in to the site by Googling 'Facebook Login' and clicking on a search result. So when this blog post came up as a result, a fair few number of people clicked on it thinking that they were on the new-look Facebook page. 

When trying to work out how to sign in to the new red-themed design, the only place they could find to enter their details was at the foot of the article to leave a comment using their Facebook profile. It's well worth reading this comment thread to witness the sheer confusion of some people who can't understand the 'new Facebook'. Here are just some of the comments (some of which are probably jokes):

Ok If I have to I will comment,I love facebook so right now just want to log in if thats ok with you..lol Keep up the good work...

I WANT THE OLD FAFEBOOK BACK THIS SHIT IS WACK!!!!!

All I want to do is log in, this sucks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

OK can I long in now

I am going to delete my account (IF I CAN EVER LOG IN) as this SUCKS BIG TIME ! If this does not get back to NORMAL you are going to lose a lot of folks who hate this and as you can see from all the comments they think it sucks too !!! facebook was great for connecting with old friends ...now, NOT SO MUCH. SO HOW DO I LOG IN ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

The people at RWW cottoned on to what was going on, and posted a helpful paragraph in the middle of the article to point out that "this site is not Facebook".

I know it's easy to say "oh my God some people are so stupid' but the truth is that there must be so many web users who only use the internet for Facebook and other similar sites. So if they'd heard rumours about the new design from their Facebook friends then tried to access the login page in the usual way via Google then you can sort of understand their confusion. But still extremely funny for us lot.

Sauce photo from Dan (aka firrs)'s Flickr Photostream.

Toad in the coal

Just got back to Bristol to hear a very amusing telly-related tale from the rest of the Dunlop clan. As a family, we are big fans of the classic British dish, toad in the hole. So when BBC1's programme 'Rachel Allen: Home Cooking' had a segment dedicated to cooking this dish this very morning, my mum and brother watched with interest to get some tips.

Chef Galton Blackiston was the chap leading the proceedings: "The tip is to leave it in a hot oven for 20 minutes and not look at it once." Fair enough, they thought. However,when they saw the result, they understandably doubted the chef's 'wisdom':

This is definitely, without a shadow of a doubt, burnt, right??!! But Galton didn't reference its charcoal-like state, and neither did the people who had to eat it!

You watch the sillyness for yourself here in the latter half of the show.

Doctor Boo-Who

Let's just say I'm glad I had the flat to myself last night. David Tennant's final flourish as the tenth Doctor was always going to be emotional, but I hadn't prepared myself for full-on sobbing.

I have loved Doctor Who since it came back five years ago. I just about remember watching it as a child on and off (the Sylvester McCoy era mainly), and I'm always proud to tell people that the second - and arguably the best - Doctor was my Great Uncle, Patrick Troughton.

I thought Christopher Eccleston did a pretty sterling job during writer Russell T Davies's first series at the helm, but I always thought it was a shame that the BBC failed to keep it a secret that Eccleston was leaving after one series, as the moment when he regenerated into David Tennant would have come as a massive shock, a bit like when The Master regenerated into John Simm (or am I alone in thinking that they managed to keep that gem under their hats?).

Tennant was born to play the Doctor. Unlike Ecclestone, he's a huge Doctor Who fan and he knows the show inside out. It also helps that he's a talented actor (not that Ecclestone isn't). And acting was what it was all about last night. Tennant - and Bernard Cribbins as Wilfred - blew me away in the key 'knock four times' scene; a genuinely spine-tingling moment when the Doctor realised with bitter dread that he hadn't managed to escape his prophesised demise after all. The sobbing began at this moment for me, and continued for the rest of the episode. I've sensed on the web that many people thought that the final 20 minutes was a load of over-indulgent, sentimental crap. But I'm firmly in the 'sod it' (or 'sob' it) camp on this one. Yeah, it was all a bit 'get the violins out' as the Doctor travelled through time to say a few final farewells to those humans he had encountered over the previous few years, but it was good to have absolute closure for once in a television series.

All too often these days (US) TV shows like Lost, Heroes and Flashforward appear to be uber-clever and mysterious at first and suck in their audiences (and advertisers) for countless series, seemingly promising some kind of huge reveal and plot twist, but it quickly becomes apparent that the 'writers' actually have no idea where the story is going. But The End Of Time tied up all the little loose ends very neatly, and you have to applaud Davies for being able to do that so masterfully.

So on to the eleventh Doctor. Young Matt Smith - and I'm permitted to say 'young' as he is nine months my junior - made his first appearance at the end of last night's episode. I've never seen him act before (I have the Sally Lockhart Mysteries on order, in which he plays cheeky cockney lad Jim. If you haven't read the Philip Pullman books on which these TV dramas are based I would thoroughly recommend them) so I have no frame of reference. It's pretty impossible to tell what his characterisation of the Doctor will be like in such a brief appearance, but I hope he doesn't try and copy Tennant too much. I know he's youthful and all, but it would even be nice to see him as a more melancholy character, with less bouncing around. Here's a preview of the next series which hints at what is to come:

I notice that Alex Kingston is in there as the character River Song. My friend Carl, who is a MASSIVE Whovian, detests the River Song episodes (Tennant's Doctor didn't recognise her, but we were led to believe that he meets her at some point in the future and gets very close to her indeed), but I actually quite liked them. Interestingly, these episodes were written by the new main writer / producer of the forthcoming series, Steven Moffat, who also penned my favourite ever episode, Blink (the Blink statue baddies are in the series preview too, woop!), and another brilliant episode, The Girl In The Fireplace, in which he falls for Madame de Pompadour. I think the fate of the next series lies largely with Moffat rather than Smith, so here's hoping for some more top-notch writing.

But, for now, let us as a nation mourn the passing of the tenth Doctor; for he was fun, he was handsome, he had good hair and wore good clothes and - most importantly - he was a proper geek. And we loved him.

In The 'Trick or Treat' Of It

Friday was a fun day in the office. I had loads of things to do as it was my final day at work before a week off, but in between all of that it was the inaugural Halloween Bake-Off contest and a preview screening of 'The Thick Of It', which had been filmed in the Guardian building a few months previously.

The premise of the Halloween Bake-Off, which had been conceived by one of my colleagues in the press office, was simple: bake a Halloween-themed cake, get a judge to choose the best cake based solely on looks, then sell the cakes for charity. I love cakes, but baking is definitely not one of my personal strengths. However, making Oreo balls certainly is a forte. So I decided that it would be much easier if I made some of my yummy Oreo truffles and decorated them to make them look spooky.

ERROR.

What I failed to foresee was that, although making standard Oreo balls is indeed quite simple and speedy, making fiddly ones which are meant to actually resemble something is not, especially if you've got plans for the two nights before which the truffles have to be ready. So I concocted a plan. Three nights before Bake-Off Day: crush the four packets of Oreo biscuits into a fine powder (took an hour using a tin of chopped tomatoes as a crusher and a sieve to ensure the powder was fine enough). Two nights before: mix crushed biscuits with cream cheese, mould into spooky shapes (pumpkins and skulls) and coat in appropriately-coloured melted chocolate (two hours). Night before: add the finishing touches with coloured piped icing sugar (one hour).  They turned out pretty well, but I didn't win. However, we did raise lots of cash. Photos of all of the entries are here.

A couple of hours later and it was time for The Thick Of It screening. Back in the summer the cast and crew spent the day at Kings Place filming. I spent a couple of hours during that day supervising the crew as part of my job, which was incredibly interesting. The director of the series, Armando Iannucci, is an absolute genius. I also learned that the guy who plays Elvis the driver is - in real life - the production office's accountant, and he was given the part solely because of his long and mouldable hair. He was very nice. The Guardian episode was aired last night, but as a thank you for allowing them to film in our building, they agreed to the preview screening, followed by an off-the-record Q&A with lots of the cast, along with the producer and the scriptwriter. Fascinating stuff. Here's a screenshot from the episode, walking down the stairs from the floor where I work:

(Dried) Pasta-chef

I couldn't let the latest Masterchef final go by without a little mention. Incarnated this quarter as 'Masterchef: The Professionals', we were led to believe that the contestants this time round already knew a little bit about cooking, so they replaced the usual 'cooking doesn't get tougher than this' tagline with 'cooking doesn't get better than this' (umm, I think it probably does, actually, but never mind). In order to demonstrate this new philosophy, for their penultimate culinary challenge the three finalists each had to cook a Michelin star-quality course, to be served to a room filled with such kitchen visionaries that they possessed 40 Michelin stars between them, as was repeated to the audience innumerable times.

Each course had been designed by the crazy-eyed chef Michel Roux Junior. Now I'm sorry if this makes me sound like a bit of a food snob (I'm definitely not a food snob, the most extravagant thing I've ever eaten is probably duck), but the main course and the dessert in particular looked like pretty bog-standard fare. The main course partly consisted of a posh macaroni cheese, made with dried - yes DRIED - pasta, stacked up all fancy and whatnot, but essentially it looked like a slice of pasta bake that had been left in the oven for too long.

The voiceover woman even had to justify why dried pasta was being used in the recipe because it really did look a bit rubbish:

"Steve's using high-quality dried pasta, used in many of the best restaurants in Italy."

The pudding was also laughable, consisting of a bit of chocolate on top of a rice crispie cake. But this wasn't any ordinary rice crispie (sorry, 'puffed rice') cake. No. This was because it had CRACKLE CRYSTALS in it. You know, that crackly stuff which pops on your tongue that you used to eat as a kid. The way Michele talked about it, you'd think no one in the world had ever experienced this "fun" popping sensation before. C'mon Junior, they've used this trick on Come Dine With Me!

Once the first challenge was over and done with, it was on to the final task: cooking their best ever three course meal. One of the contestants made the fatal error of making a chocolate fondant for his pudding. The words 'chocolate fondant' on Masterchef are basically the death knell for the contestant attempting to cook it, because they ALWAYS fail. The normal contestants fail, the celebrities fail and now even the professionals fail. It was only slightly gooey in the middle, whereas a flood of chocolate yumminess should have flowed from the sponge casing when the spoon broke through the threshold. Disappointing. I swear if someone made a YouTube compilation video of all the ruined Masterchef chocolate fondants it would be a very long - and amusing - video indeed.

So another series is over, and another Masterchef winner walks away with the fantastic prize of...oh yeah, there is no prize is there? Oh well. The question is, will John Torode be back for the next series? One can only hope...

Ringtone or no ringtone

I'm an idiot. In my previous post I completely neglected to mention one of the greatest TV recording experiences of my life: DEAL OR NO DEAL. The show is filmed in Bristol and the Dunlop clan went along one Friday afternoon in 2006, smack bang in the middle of the show's heyday. Going to see DOND being filmed was unlike any other TV recording experience I referred to yesterday. For one, the show is filmed in an old warehouse and it was much less like a military operation to get it. Secondly, YOU GET FREE ALCOHOL AND FOOD. This aspect of the experience was particularly excellent. Thirdly, if you play your cards right, you could very well end up on the telly yourself.

Anyone who knows me knows that I would never pass up on the opportunity to put myself in a potentially embarrassing situation, so I actively sought out the researcher with the clipboard who was selecting the three audience members to open the boxes at the end of the show for the viewers' competition. Of-course, these were the days before Ofcom ruled that such money-making competitions were actually a little bit wrong.

Happily, the clipboard guy agreed for me and my brother to be two of the box-openers at the end, so after a quick lesson on how to open the box without looking like a fool (place one hand on top of the box, then rip the tag off with the other before lifting the lid with both hands) we were ushered to special seats in the audience with easy access to the relevant plinth.

Let's just say the next hour or so that followed was a bit of an ordeal. Not only was I terrified of my big box-opening moment, but my phone decided to start vibrating at a very crucial and dramatic part of the proceedings. I got away with it and dismantled my phone, a small sense of calm enveloping me, safe in the knowledge that it definitely couldn't go off again. About 10 minutes later, someone else's phone started ringing. 'Phew', I thought to myself, 'I'm not the only silly person in this room'. Except slowly I began to realise that I recognised the relentless ringtone, and then I realised that it wasn't a ringtone after all, it was my sodding iPod with The Subways blaring out of the headphones! I'd left it unlocked in my bag and I'd obviously nudged it on, and my attempts to muffle the noise with my feet only seemed to be making it louder. Somehow I managed to get away with that as well.

So, the moment of truth. I took my place in the middle of the plinth behind box number two, absolutely terrified, as you can see from my face, here:

'Please don't choose two, please don't choose two', I mentally pleaded with the random audience member who had been selected by Edmonds. They chose number three, panic over. Here are a couple of photos of the actual box opening:

  
The relief I felt at the moment above is almost indescribable. It was a lot of fun, thanks Noel!

Have I got queues for you

Back in the good old Bristol sixth-form days, my media studies class went on a glamorous trip to London. We paid a visit to the now-closed Museum Of The Moving Image, then had some spare time to roam around the city before heading to a television studio to watch some Mr & Mrs-esque show being recorded, presented by Dale Winton*

Now, my media studies class were a bit of a rebellious bunch, and during the 'spare time' element of the day, everyone (apart from me and my clan of fellow geeks who ended up in Sega World or somewhere like that) got smashed in the pub and was pretty pissed by the time we got to the recording studio, to the extent that one guy even ended up gatecrashing the studio next door where a Clive James show was being recorded and being removed from the building.

It was a fun trip, and although seeing a programme being recorded was an enjoyable novelty, the show itself wasn't exactly enthralling. But I'm happy to report that since then my TV recording experiences have improved vastly with no drunken teenagers in sight. I've been to see 'TV Burp', 'QI', 'The Big Fat Quiz of the Year' and 'Bremner Bird & Fortune', and last night I was lucky enough to watch 'Have I Got News For You'.

We had amazing seats - right at the front next to Ian Hislop - as a result of priority tickets and my well-honed queue skills. Unlike some shows, this one is a really good one to be in the audience for, as it's recorded as-live and they simply edit it down for broadcast the following day. It was all over and done with in a laughter-filled couple of hours and I was home in time to watch THAT episode of 'Question Time'. The guest presenter David Mitchell was his usual quick-witted self, and the guests were top-notch. You can watch the episode in question here.

One observation from before the recording began was that Paul Merton is obviously quite fussy about ensuring he has the same chair every week. Before I took the above photo there was a little sticker on his chair with 'Paul' written on it, so they can obviously distinguish between his chairs and the others when they dress the set.

But one of my highlights of the evening took place before the recording of the show had even begun. We were shivering away at the front of the queue, when a frazzled researcher / runner from the Graham Norton Show came bursting out of the studio building and breathlessly asked the waiting mob 'are you fans of Michael Buble?'. The silence that greeted her as she asked the same question to the queue of current affairs fans was deafening - and hilarious. Goodness knows why she was so desperate to find Michael Buble fans; I can only presume that he was one of Graham's guests last night, and I very much hope that the poor girl managed to find at least one Buble fan somewhere on the Southbank for whatever purpose she had in mind.

*I cannot find a single online reference to this programme - not even on Dale Winton's Wikipedia or IMDB listing. But basically it was a Saturday night show which involved someone trying to work our who was the genuine partner / spouse of another contestant, with lots of bluffing etc. And Dale had an annoying catchphrase which involved a chaise longue...any ideas anyone??

The Ukraine really has got talent

via youtube.com

Somehow I can't see anything like this winning Britain's Got Talent, but I think it's stunning. How *does* she get her hair so glossy?!

Posted via web from Thoughts as she has them

For my chewing pleasure

Operation Good Guys was on the telly when I returned home this evening. Ok, so it wasn't actually on the telly, my brother was watching our never-been-opened boxset of the show, which he bought for me a couple of years ago but I've never got around to watching. This was obviously a huge error on my part, as it's bloomin hilarious! Who remembers it? Basically, it was The Office before The Office (first shown in 1997, whereas The Office was first broadcast four years later). It's a mockumentary about an undercover police squad who are supposedly being filmed by a BBC crew for a fly-on-the-wall look at the detectives in action as they attempt to snare the crime lord 'Smiler McCarthy'.

Predictably, the whole bunch of them are incompetent, but the real dig is at the fact that they're allowed to get away with their shoddiness, and - in one episode - even showcase their idiocy by coordinating an 'undercover squad open day'. But instead of demonstrating their detecting and policing skills, they instead decide to turn it into a cabaret show under the guidance of (the actual) Christopher Biggins. There are loads more celebrity cameos, my personal favourite being an appearance by David Seaman.

The first series is classic. From what I remember it seemed to go downhill in the second series. Indeed, having just read the Wikipedia entry, I remember now that they stupidly decided to introduce canned laughter in the second and third series, completely spoiling the documentary feel, but it's still worth watching to see where The Office may have got some of its inspiration from.

Speaking of small-screen hilarity, I am (of-course) addicted to the latest Masterchef incarnation, which is rather inappropriately called Masterchef: The Professionals. C'mon guys, even I know that you don't make sauce in a griddle pan!


From what I gather so far, this competition is open to people who make a living out of any profession which is - however vaguely - related to cookery. So they could be a catering lecturer in a college, or work in the kitchen of a local pub. I'm guessing these people wouldn't be eligible for standard Masterchef, and certainly not for the 'celebrity' version, so this show caters (see what I did there?!) for everyone in between. And everyone in between appears to be a white chap in their mid-twenties. Nope, the BBC certainly aren't ticking any equality and diversity boxes with this programme. Still, it's as entertaining as ever.

Highlights from the first two shows have been the guy who aimed to make ravioli from scratch, but ended up serving an omelette on top of spaghetti, and Jamie from Wiltshire, who is a walking, taking, real-life thesaurus. Jamie's through to the next round, so I'm looking forward to hearing many more variations on the word 'chuffed' from him in the near future / very soon / shortly.

Laughterchef

Ok, so I know I've banged on about 'Masterchef' before, in particular the raw emotions on display from the celebrity contestants, but now I feel I must expand on my previous diatribe. I swear tonight's episode is one of the ridiculous things I have ever seen on TV (yep, even more ridiculous than 'Jonathan Creek').

Firstly, do they even check to see whether the contestants can actually cook anymore?? A dude on tonight's show concocted a plate of what can only be described as a tin of chickpeas with bacon on top, all floating in what looked to be the the result of a nosebleed.

Needless to say he was torn to pieces by judges John Torode and Gregg Wallace. The efforts of the other competitors were pretty pants too. One contestant couldn't even finish cooking his dish because he chopped the top of his thumb off and had to be rushed to A&E (we were reassured later that he hadn't bled to death, although I think some of the blood may have spurted on to the plate above).


Other amusing attempts at recent cooking by contestants include a well-meaning lady with a nervous giggle who started out by making a risotto, panicked and decided to PUREE it into a 'soup', which resembled concrete, and a guy who served up boiled carrots (complete with a bite taken out of one of them) and potatoes!! Even Gregg today admitted that "anyone who can open a tin is through to the next stage" because the standards were so low.

Secondly, the programme is becoming increasingly formulaic - there now seems to be a 'novice cook', 'experimental cook' and 'traditional cook' in each episode (as well as the 'crap cook'). And, of-course, they all have bags of PASSION, as repeatedly expressed by the husky-voiced voiceover woman who sounds like she could do with a good cough.

I must say, however, that it is hugely entertaining, and I have had some massive belly laughs tonight as a result of the incompetence on display. Experience the hilarity for yourself on iPlayer. I might even enter next year's series and whip up a bowl of Heinz tomato soup, followed by Supernoodles and a Wagon Wheel.

Up sh*t Creek

I made a special effort to get home in time for 'Jonathan Creek' last night (what has my life become?!) and I must say I was a tad baffled by it. I used to be a big fan of the show back in my youth, enjoying its twists and turns and witty humour, but last night's storyline was just too preposterous!

*Stop reading now if you don't want spoilers*

So a woman's best friend mysteriously disappears into thin air in the middle of the night, with all remaining of her the clothing she went to bed in. Now if this was my friend I would be pretty darn worried. The best case scenario is that she would be walking around naked somewhere. But does our new heroine call the police? No. Instead she approaches Jonathan Creek upon the recommendation of an old lady she barely knows for his help. Little progress is made in tracking her down, so they go along to the local village show and have a bit of a giggle by partaking in some magic tricks. ERR - YOUR FRIEND IS MISSING AND POSSIBLY DEAD, DON'T FAFF AROUND BY PERFORMING MAGIC TRICKS YOU DUNCE!!

In an equally absurd secondary storyline, a magician's girlfriend is having an affair with their handyman (played by the lead singer dude from ace 90s series 'The Young Person's Guide to becoming a Rock Star') and they get married in secret. The magician finds out and murders his girlfriend. The handyman is understandably a tad upset by the turn of events, but when Jonathan tracks him down to try and found out what happened, he is still doing oddjobs round the magician's house. ERR - YOUR WIFE HAS JUST DIED AND YOU ARE AWARE THAT YOUR EMPLOYER IS THE MOST LIKELY SUSPECT. WHY ARE YOU STILL UP A LADDER CLEANING OUT HIS GUTTERS??!!

Maybe I'm being a bit harsh - I know the show is meant to be a bit 'out there', but last night's episode really did push the boundaries of acceptable social behaviour and common sense a little bit too far.

Petra PR stunt

,, You may have read in the newspapers today the shocking story of Petra the Blue Peter dog. Turns out that the Petra who thousands of kids came to know and love wasn’t the original Petra after all. The original puppy died two days after making its first, and only, appearance on the show, so they drafted in a secret replacement.

According to today’s reports, this ‘secret’ has only now been exposed following the revelation in former Blue Peter editor Biddy Baxter’s new book. Oh yeah? So how come this article in the Times from over a year ago knows about the dead Petra? And how come, according to Google’s news tracker, it was known way back in 1996? I’LL TELL YOU WHY! Because Biddy’s publishers want some cheap publicity for the book and journalists are too bloomin lazy to check their facts (unlike my pal Rudi, who helped me out by finding the above links).

Yes, I do realise that by writing this blog I am also publicising the book, so their stunt has blatantly worked a treat. DAMMIT!


(Me in the Blue Peter garden next to George the tortoise's memorial plaque. He was a much better pet anyway).

Tears before breadtime

I happened to catch the last five minutes of 'Celebrity Masterchef' the other evening. I have to say, I was utterly shocked by the extreme levels of emotion on display from the c-list cooks. Former Atomic Kitten Liz and the Liverpudlian dude from 'Holby City' literally had tears rolling down their cheeks as they were waiting to hear whether they'd made it through to the final. Thank goodness they both did (along with Andi Peters, who managed to keep the weeping in check), otherwise I think some kind of emotional massacre would have ensued.

Don't get me wrong, it's strangely reassuring that it means so much to them, but I can't help but wonder a) what kind of financial incentive is being dangled in front of their noses in order to provoke such passion and b) why the hell the Atomic Kitten was allowed to compete in the first place since she had supposedly 'never touched an oven' before the show and is therefore not a 'masterchef'. Surely by this logic I should equally be allowed on the show because I am not a celebrity?! Oh yeah, I forgot, I've been in the London Lite...

Melancholic trombones

Alas, another era is over. First Sally from Home & Away sods off, now Harold Bishop has bade a final farewell to Ramsay Street. Having sobbed like I'd never sobbed before when Madge died, I was preparing myself for a similar state of uninhibited despair today. But having just watched the episode on YouTube I have to say I'm actually quite disappointed. No sepia flashbacks, no emotional reminiscing between jelly-belly and Lou Carpenter (who, incidentally, is from a small village called Titchfield in Hampshire - the actor not the character, obviously) and no out-of-the-blue tragic accident (Dee and Toadie stylee - I'm still convinced she will return as a nun or something). Nope, just a half-hearted attempt at artistic poignancy with Lou and Harold sitting together in silence, trying desperately to convey to the viewer that 'nothing needs to be said'. OH BUT IT DID!! Rant over.