Maladjusted?

Posts Tagged ‘review

Why I do not watch much TV

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I don’t actually watch a lot of TV.  There’s very little on the box that I actually want to watch, and anything that I wouldn’t mind watching I can find on BBC iplayer or Channel 4 on Demand.

However, my sister watches and enjoys a huge amount of banal TV trash – much of which I’m subjected to while eating my tea of an evening.  The worst examples of the eye ball offenders are:

  • Pineapple Dance Studios (gyrating craziness fronted by gay-guy-about-town and screaming, annoying twat Louis Spence.  Like the Trocodero Centre – wrong on so many levels )
  • Dating in the Dark (it’s a dating show – so I hate it already.  And the ‘hook’ is that its…er…in the dark)
  • America’s Next Top Model (public hate-fest where a model called Tara Somebodyorother seems to really believe that a) she is God and b) that anything she says actually matters)

All a load of guff, but the one show that has really got my goat of late, is the horror of a TV programme called ‘Fat Families’.

Fat Families is a show hosted by ex-lardy Steve Somebodyorother (not related to Tara), who is contacted by families of salad-dodgers to help them shift a few pounds of podgy fat.  (see picture).

Steve gives them a healthy eating plan, replaces their extra large sofas with treadmills so there’s no excuse not to exercise and monitors how they get on.  There are usually a few tears and tantrums as the fatsos realise that salad leaves don’t taste like chocolate, but all in all they end up losing a bit of weight by the time it gets to the ‘final weigh in’.  Cue smiles and back slapping all round (no pun intended).

So far, so boring.

However, it’s the follow up show that really makes my teeth itch.

After a few months, Steve then invites the slightly less wobbly families back to see how they’ve got on – if they’ve managed to take on board his healthy eating plans for the long term, and if they’ve managed to lose any further weight.

The family are put up overnight in a hotel, but what isn’t communicated is that cheeky little imp Steve has set ‘traps’ around the hotel (bowls of sweets at reception, a free buffet full of fattening foods in the dining area), and has installed secret cameras to spy on them to see if they slip up at any point (i.e. help themselves to a choccie, or choose the unhealthier option at the buffet).

Now, perhaps I’m a little over sensitive, but isn’t this just a modern type of bear baiting?

It just seems needlessly cruel to me to set up such fiendish traps.  After all, this is a bunch of people who obviously have an unhealthy relationship with food.  You wouldn’t tempt recovering heroin addicts with bowls full of skag lying around the place, or entice a recovering alcoholic with a free bar would you?

Also, I know what I am like when I stay at hotel – I tend load up.  It’s free food.  I’m going to eat more than I should.  Come on…live a little!

Anyway, after setting these traps and monitoring the actions of the family of podges, Steve then jumps out on them in the restaurant just as they are about to tuck into their second helping of double-chocolate-extra-cream-big-boy-cheese-cake, shaming them into (very often) tears, and patronising them blatantly in public.

Cue more tears, scenes of the fat families doing a bit more exercise, another final weigh in that shows that they’ve shifted a bit more weight, and bit of self congratulatory back slapping for Steve.

All in all, I’m left with a feeling a despair for the human race, bafflement at what passes as ‘entertainment’ to some people, and with an overpowering urge to put Steve in a sack full of other things I don’t like (like poo and sild) and punt it into the sea.

This is why I do not watch  much TV

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The Road: A quick review

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The Road is a film about the journey of a father (Viggo Mortensen) and son (Kodi Smit-McPhee) through post apocalyptic America, dodging cannibals, thieves and murderers on their journey south.

It is very well acted but my God, is it bleak.  Bleaker than the bleakest thing you can think of.  The bleakness is only offset slightly by the slighting nauseating one liners throughout such as “carry the fire within you” (The Man) or “we are still the good guys aren’t we papa?” (The Boy).

I suppose it was a gritty portrayal of a father and son’s love in a struggle for survival in a world that doesn’t care.  But I couldn’t help wondering – why would you bother trying to survive in a world where there is hardly any food, there are no plants or trees, ‘no birds do sing’ and every other person you encounter is a cannibal intend on ending your miserable and hungry life.

Personally, I’d just do myself in.

As you can tell – this film just failed to move me as it did other people.

While V blubbed like a fat kid who’s had his cake taken away, I was just left a little disappointed in my own cynism, and also that I hadn’t waited for the DVD

Written by Lores

January 20, 2010 at 6:18 pm

Devon: Rain, Scrumpy, and Oddballs

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I’m back!  Back from my petite vacance in the West Country.  There were high-lights (the Valley of Rocks, scrumpy) and low-lights (rain, strange people and hangovers from excess scrumpy) from my trip…mainly low-lights truth be told.  Devon is an odd place. 

The rain just seems so much…wetter… in Devon than it does anywhere else in the country.  In Devon, there seems to be two different types of rain – big fat rain that comes down heavily and soaks you to the core within a minute, or big fat rain that comes in heavily at a 90° angle and soaks you to the core within a minute.

And don’t get me started on the people.  I had, of course, heard the old adage that Devon is a place where ‘men are men and the sheep are nervous’.  So I was just expecting perverts…no one prepared me for the number of generally odd characters that I encountered on the trip.  From the boy who was 7 foot tall and looked like a future murderer, to the old man in a Dartmoor pub who told us to move seats so as ‘not to interupt the meeting’ (there was no apparent meeting taking place at the time). 

Take this story for an example of the kind of oddness I am talking about.  

V was in a supermarket in Exeter with his brother in the cake and bread aisle.  There were all sorts of novelty cakes on display, you know the kind I mean – Man Utd cakes, Princess birthday cakes etc.  Anyway, this Devonian woman came into the store, marched up to a David Beckham cake on display, and punched it with full force.  She then turned around to V and his brother, shouted out “I f*cking hate Beckham”, and promptly left the shop.

I mean what sort of unbalance of character means that you would literally punch a cake because you didn’t like the celebrity depicted on the icing?

Anyway, I am back in London now.  Back with the nutters I am prepared for and enjoying the polluted, yet slightly less heavy rain. 

Next time:  A much fuller (and fairer) review of Exeter, Devon and the New Forest  (On the back burner at the mo as I’ve been busier than a bagful of busy bees with obsessive compulsive disorder since I’ve been back)

Written by Lores

September 15, 2009 at 4:06 pm

Lovebox Baby

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Last Sunday I spend the day at the east London festival Lovebox with V and some of my friends.  Lovebox is a very accessible multi-genre event that has taken place in Hackney’s Victoria Park for the last 5 years.  It’s generally quite corporate free in regards to sponsorship (which is always refreshing), with farmers markets, independent stalls and a real mix of different stages and tents

Highlights:  Seeing Groove Armada, The New York Dolls and Gary Numan, and seeing Matt Berry in the crowd.   Not seeing one fight (unusual where there are large numbers of Brits and lots of alcohol). 

Lowlights:  Microphones that didn’t work.  Bands not sticking to their set times.  Police stop and search a bit too much.  Drinking too much cider.  Walking back to my friends house in Dalston after the festival, in the rain.  Inexplicably the journey took us 45 minutes. 

The crowd
The crowd
Gaymers stage early in the day.  Taken through a red visor.  So artistic!

Gaymers stage early in the day. Taken through a red visor. So artistic!

I'm such a hippy chick...!

Rocking in the Rain

The dance stage for Simian Mobile Disco

The dance stage for Simian Mobile Disco

An abandoned Gary Numan Bot.  I wanted to adopt it.  V wouldn't let me

An abandoned Gary Numan Bot. I wanted to adopt it. V wouldn't let me

X Men Origins

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On Saturday night I was taken by V to see the film X-Men Origins

Now I’m no film critic, so I am unsure if it was the cringe-worthy cliches or the OTT special effects that made this film cheesier than the cheese board at the Babybel staff party at Cheddar Gorge, but I found some bits so toe curling that I actually laughed out loud.  Much to the scorn of my fellow theatre goers I might add.  (Apparently this comic book stuff is to be taken quite seriously)

But while I felt that the plot had more holes in it than a tramps sock, there were lots of lovely gratuitous scenes of Hugh Jackman in various states of undress to make up for it.   So all was not lost. 

(One word of advice – as the film ends, and the camera pans out of the birds eye view of the island in the river – don’t feel tempted to do the “DUH…DUH…DUDDUDDUDDERDERDER” of the ending credits of East Enders.  Tempting as it may be.  No one else will find it funny…as I found out)

eastenders

Written by Lores

May 10, 2009 at 9:39 pm