Saturday, March 10, 2007

Golden balls...

M is offering comprehensive coverage of Fame Academy over on her blog but I feel that I need to tell the world that Ray Stubbs is the man. Yes, Barry off of Eastenders might have the voice, Angellica Bell might have our sympathy and Tara PT might power to the final night on the strength of her sweat alone. But Ray Stubbs is the man. Yes, the man. Never has a sports anchor offered so much to his dedicated audience. Did you hear his Wonderwall? His Come Up And See Me? His Pinball Wizard? His Going Fucking Underground?! Yes, he massacres each and every one of them. But he does it with such style, panache and, erm, shouting. Yes, he is the man. But he's not the only Ray Stubbs, as you'll find out by clicking here.

And talking of television (be thankful, otherwise I might bang on about Baudrillard again) Castaway has returned. A somewhat more idyllic island, this one, compared to the last Ben Fogle-conquered place and all very jolly and merry and no need for survival techniques just yet. Still, give it a couple more days and they'll all be drinking their own urine and eating each other. I've often thought, while wallowing in all the reality television that is the staple diet for my eyes and ears, "why doesn't one of them tell the producers to stick all those rules and regulations up their arse?" but such is the British way that, whether it be Big Brother or Love Island, contestants conform without question. But in feisty, big-gobbed Jonathan, Castaway's inhabitants - one of whom, according to the Telegraph, is a "former heroine addict" - might have a saviour. He is suggesting a mutiny after the Beeb's one-man Ant&Dec Danny Wallace (dressed far too uncomfortably for the hot climate in a polyester suit) told them all that they must vote to decide which islander is contributing the least to the experience. Danny returns for their decision on Sunday and I am hoping that Jonathan has swung everyone round to his way of thinking by then and that they reduce young Wallace to tears and several minutes of dead air. The post-show follow-up on BBC Three is fronted by TV bad boy Richard Bacon, trying too hard to not present the studio-based show as a weak copy of Big Brother's Big Mouth but failing miserably, mainly due to the design of the set, the format of the show and the Big Brother's Big Mouthish video clips. Inevitable, of course, that the original concept of Castaway has been tampered with, otherwise it would look very lame in light of all that followed it the first time round. Hell, there are just so many reality shows now that maybe it's time we just filmed everybody on the planet every day and broadcast the lot, then all voted on each other, evicting those that contribute the least off the planet? Should I sell that format to Endemol?

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