That Was The Week, Was It?
So I was reading Tired Dad's blog post about his top five most hated television programmes and I was tempted to join in, but my attention was caught by this highly-pertinent but almost throwaway comment:Several people list that “fuckin 10 O’Clock Show shite” in their top five, and I briefly argue. But even I have to concede that I WANT to like it more than I ACTUALLY do.
And I know exactly what TD means. Every week, I tune in in the hope of watching some cutting-edge biting satire of the sort that hasn't really been seen since That Was The Week That Was, back in Olden Times (pre-Moon Landing). And every week I feel vaguely disappointed that it wasn't longer, that some bases weren't properly covered, that it was all a wee bit "shoddy".
But then, maybe my memories of TW3 have become sepia-tinted with age. After all, I was just a nipper and couldn't possibly have understood most of the jokes. On @10OClockLive it's remarkably similar. Jimmy Carr, for example, will make some hilarious double-entendre, listen to the first wave of laughter and then glance at his watch while the cognoscenti who "got it" right away explain the joke to their less clued-up companions...aaand there goes the second wave.
And a live news show is always going to be shoddy; it's the whole point. Some items are literally thrown in at the last minute, which is every editor's worst nightmare, never mind stand-up comedians.
Still, I do feel that the presenters are letting off lightly the politicians who deign to appear on the show, ready to be cross-examined by some posh bloke from Oxbridge. Sometimes it seems it's David Mitchell who's being hung on the ropes by media-savvy, well-coached, silver-tongued weasel-word merchants. Or perhaps producers are afraid that if he were to really lay into them, the supply may suddenly dry up. Time will tell.
Lauren Laverne makes very pleasant eye-candy, but other than that she seems to be very much the token female. Appearing in just one short prerecorded sketch per week, she spends the rest of the time trying to keep her boys under control long enough to go to an ad break. Maybe Jo Brand could show her how it's done?
Of course the star of the show has to be that lucky bastard who married Konnie Huq. Charlie Brooker has taken to live satire like a duck to bird-flu. All of his own segments appear to be well-rehearsed, coherent and relevant, while he joins in the group discussions with carefully-constructed snippets of wisdom. I want to be him when I grow up.
The show as a whole just doesn't seem to fit into it's ample 65-minute slot. Maybe that's down to the ad breaks, but at least they stop any one item from tying up the whole programme.
Oh well, three months to go. I'm sure it'll all mesh together by the end of the run.
Buy it! Now!
