One for the bin… The Wright Stuff. Left to right: Luke Gell as Clive Beeches, David Haig as Gerald Wright, Mina Anwar as Malika Maha and Toby Longworth as Bernard Stanning. Photograph: BBC/Phil Mcintyre
One for the bin… The Wright Stuff. Left to right: Luke Gell as Clive Beeches, David Haig as Gerald Wright, Mina Anwar as Malika Maha and Toby Longworth as Bernard Stanning. Photograph: BBC/Phil McintyreA sitcom relying on an over-full bin for laughs is a stinker that should be sent to landfill says Lucy Bellerby
This “comedy” is, to put it nicely, atrocious. Watching it is painful. It made my insides twist uncomfortably, and my toes curl up. It was like nails down a blackboard; completely and utterly unwatchable.
The show feels like a low rent panto, on in a dingy theatre in Slough, with a cast of supremely untalented and washed up soap actors; a broken Les from Corrie slipping on banana skins, then going into his dressing room to drink a bottle of Aldi gin and cry. I used to go to drama classes when I was a kid, and the show feels a lot like when we (a bunch of pretentious and precocious 12 year olds) were given a prop of a traffic cone and were given five minutes to improvise a sketch.
In Elton’s case, the prop of the day is a bin. The health and safety officer can’t get the bin bag out of the bin! The audience’s canned laughter builds. He still can’t get it out! Everyone is in hysterics, tears leaking out of their eyes as they slap their thighs in merriment. Five whole minutes later, and he’s only gone and ripped off the top of the sodding bin bag by accident! Good god someone help me, I’ve keeled over with laughter.
I reached the end and didn’t even know what the episode’s storyline was; the whole thing passed me by in a fog of Dick Van Dyke cockney and tumbleweeds rolling past Elton’s slack mouth and massive eyebrows. I hate to say it, but I think I may even miss Mrs bloody Brown.
A programme set in one of Manchester’s STI clinics may seem like an easy target for me, what with my love of all things trashy, reality and disgusting (Unsafe Sex in the City, BBC3). It’s true that the scope for herpes jokes is a pretty attractive prospect, and seeing cocky young lads reduced to shaking wrecks because a single swab to the nether regions is strangely satisfying.
Although the programme trades in the same gross-out mingingness of Embarrassing Bodies, the subject matter here is a lot more serious. The clinic sees hundreds of clueless jack-the-lads and gormless lasses cheerfully passing chlamydia between each other every day; totally unaware of the consequences.
They will openly brag about the vast numbers of partners they’ve slept with, but every time the nurse mentions the word “condom” they dissolve into mortified giggles. Sex education in this country is clearly dropping the (metaphorical, you pervs) ball somewhere. I’m not sure what the solution is; maybe we should force teenagers to Tweet the word CONDOM ten times a day till they aren’t scared of it anymore, or we could show them Instagrammed photos of a nasty case of syphilis.
The staff in the clinic should be knighted; they are completely unflappable and never judgemental. The lads who wear each bout of the clap like a badge of honour don’t even merit the bat of an eyelid from the stoical nurses.
If you’re squeamish then I would probably avoid watching Unsafe Sex In The City. But if you are the parent of a teenager I reckon you should load up iPlayer, sit them down and force them to watch it, preferably with you looming over their shoulder. When they see what they could catch, condoms suddenly won’t seem so scary.
We use cookies on our website to give you the most relevant experience by remembering your preferences and repeat visits. By clicking “Accept”, you consent to the use of ALL the cookies.
This website uses cookies to improve your experience while you navigate through the website. Out of these, the cookies that are categorized as necessary are stored on your browser as they are essential for the working of basic functionalities of the website. We also use third-party cookies that help us analyze and understand how you use this website. These cookies will be stored in your browser only with your consent. You also have the option to opt-out of these cookies. But opting out of some of these cookies may affect your browsing experience.
Necessary cookies are absolutely essential for the website to function properly. This category only includes cookies that ensures basic functionalities and security features of the website. These cookies do not store any personal information.
Any cookies that may not be particularly necessary for the website to function and is used specifically to collect user personal data via analytics, ads, other embedded contents are termed as non-necessary cookies. It is mandatory to procure user consent prior to running these cookies on your website.