An admission

   I've chosen this, my blog, on which to come out. Its taken me a long time, but the pressure is building and I think its time I admitted everything. OK. I know its trendy at the moment to open up, but I can guarantee when I get around to doing something it is no longer trendy, or even vaguely interesting. So now is my moment. 
   I realise I am at the back of long queue of people who have come out before me, but I can't hold it in any longer. Here goes: hold my hand as I dive in: I have never, and have not even the faintest inklings of the beginnings of the vague stirrings of desire to watch a single minute of Game of Thrones. There it is. Shocking I know. But the relief of getting it out there is almost palpable. Almost. Not actually palpable, but almost. If I really really try.
   But I do watch, and listen to, other things and some of them are things other people watch or listen to too. 

   Yes, I should be blogging about Antiques, but I've got very little to say that isn't said elsewhere and better with more insight by others, so you've got a different side of me. TV.
   So lets start at the top. Line of Duty. When I say top, I mean top of my list. My list of really poor telly that is overhyped. Bodyguard belongs on that list, but LoD comes in at number 1 by some distance. Lame story which was guessable the minute the lovely Polly Walker walked on to the screen. And it was accompanied by some really terrible terrible acting.
   Of the main characters that run through all seventyninehundred series of this crap, only Adrian Dunbar comes out with any credit. There are good actors out on the dole queues or waiting tables who can't get work through no fault of their talent and there were some in LoD who took the piss, barely even phoning in their performances. Execrable. 

   Mind you, they were always up against it with the BBC hyping, re-hyping and then over hyping again and again the piece. It stood no chance, especially after their recent efforts with Bodyguard. Pretty much the same, but at least that had some (a very small amount) of tension. I admit I just wanted Richard Madden to let go of the button after about 23.947 seconds. It was just about watchable, but did not justify the hype, where as LoD was not really even watchable. ITV don't escape either, ruining that beach thing Broadchurch with a second and then third series. I'd lost patience with it before the end of series 1, but series 2 was just rotten and series 3 never even made it onto our Sky Box.
   At the other end of the scale of course is Fleabag and Killing Eve. And believe you me, given the recent media praise I have no inclination to join in the chorus for either of them let alone both. And even more unlikely as they emanate from the laptop of poor old Phoebe Waller Bridge who through no fault of her own that I can discern hails from Ealing; the epicentre of mediocrity if ever it needed an epicentre. But PWB has triumphed and floated serenely out of the bucket that is Ealing to produce two fantastic series both of which are good enough to watch not once but twice. I'm now really looking forward the next James Bond. And I'll add 'Mum' to my list of recent TV greats. Sphincter clenching banality made entertaining, and how!
   But LoD. I mean come on! It is nearly as bad as Countryfile. And about as popular, proving that measure of quality to be very unreliable. All it proves is that the lower you go, the more you attract. A bit like flies are drawn to a piece of rotten meat.
   It used to be a good programme, Countryfile, and semi-interesting sometimes. Now it is presented with all the patronising flair of Blue Peter and talks down to its presumably juvenile audience about complicated and important matters, with all the depth and analysis of CBeebies. The result is a dreadful dumbing down that is, like cheap pop music, aimed to be accessible without much demand on the little grey cells. Trouble is, dear old BBC, that means instantly forgettable. And who will be re-watching LoD in years to come? Give over, most of us have forgotten it already.

   I don't get it, BBC, because you took a left-field punt with Fleabag, albeit on a hidden minority channel and Killing Eve too, and they have been your crowning glories recently. Your only ones.
   And you think I'm harsh. You wait. I've got my eyes set on BBC Radio now. There might be swearing, because it really might be the only way to express how bad it has got. 

Previous Next