Sunday, 14 October 2012
Take Me Out
Despite its quality as the Nuremberg trials of saturday night television (and the fact I thought it was awful when it first aired) like so many others (proper TV critics I mean- Guardian and Telegraph) I now have to see Take Me Out as the jewel in the crown. Perhaps my moral sensibilities have collapsed, or perhaps everything else has got worse. At least, with Take me Out, we have genuine muppets in pursuit of carnal integration on the sunny isle of Fanandos, a simple enough aspiration. I don't have to watch washed up soap stars support their incomes (Strictly) I don't have to suffer the weirdness of android Davina or the strangeness of her celebrity guests (Million Pound Drop) I don't have to sit staggered under the flashback inducing hyperbole and noise of X Factor (surely one of the most twisted of cultural encounters for us to decode). I don't have to hate hate hate the sheer awfullness of Ant and Dec, the new Brucies. No, Take Me Out represents realism for our Fourth Reich, officiated by a charming monkey. I find it quite relaxing.
Of course in the meantime I'm forced to view any number of dramas on the subject of servility; servility to the country house (Downturn) servility to the department store (Paradise!) to the point I wish somebody might just say at some fucking point in the hallowed halls of the BBC, 'How about we make a show about bosses?- Lets show what shits they are!'
Even the USA managed that with Dallas, now respectfully re-made and remodelled with fresh livers.