James reviews 'Alan Titchmarsh's Gardening Club' and 4 others

Transcript

Hello, I’m James Brook, and welcome to the second episode of ‘I Review Freeview.’

There is a short intro podcast, which you can listen to if you like. But really it’s straightforward: you suggest upcoming programs on Freeview and I review them. If no-one suggests anything, then I have a look and choose something myself.

Remember: send suggestions and comments to contact@ireviewfreeview.com or go to IReviewFreeview dot com.

In this episode I will be reviewing:

Alan Titchmarsh’s Gardening Club (Series 1 Episode 1), on ITV1
Dress to Impress (Series 1 Episode 9), on ITV2
The Rise and Fall of Boris Johnson (episodes 1 & 2) on Channel 4
Paranormal Caught on Camera (Series 6 Episode 8), on Really
Gladiators, on BBC1

That’s one for the birds, some lighthearted relief, a trip into the unbelievableverse and something I’m sure I’ll hate.

By The way: the image associated with this episode comes from a free AI image generator with the following instruction:

A gladiator and a frock in front of a ghostly Big Ben and a garden by matisse.

I dunno about you, but I’m way more impressed with this than by the episode 1 image. I think I’m getting better at prompts. Still not wonderful: maybe I should fork out for the paid version. Or not.

Before we start, here’s my usual warning: as this is going out after the programs have been broadcast, my assumption is that you have already watched them, so I’m not that fussy about spoilers. You have been warned.

So, here we go.

Alan Titchmarsh’s Gardening Club (Series 1 Episode 1), on ITV1, Monday March 4, 2:00pm

I picked this probably to prove to myself I can endure an hour of boredom watching people I’d sooner avoid rabbiting on about stuff I don’t care about.

To its credit, I didn’t fall asleep, and I’m a man who once dosed off in the middle of dental treatment. But I have to confess it was a pretty close-run thing.

So, there he is: the avuncular, comforting figure of Alan Titchmarsh. Welly boots. Comfortable knitwear. He’s at ease in front of the camera, talking about gardening, occasionally smelling a flower. I think the phrase ‘good for the soul’ popped up in various guises. His voice is slow, somnolent and fittingly loamy. I think, I bought a big TV for this?

Essentially, he’s there to introduce a series of video inserts of gardeners doing gardening things. He calls them all members of his club, but none of them were physically there. Which was a blessing, because it means no banter, one of the absolute television killjoys.

First up, there’s a chap telling us how to encourage birds into the garden. He fills bird feeders, clambers up a ladder to fix a bird box and says interesting things about bird box apertures.

Then it’s back to Alan in his garden for a couple more uplifting bromides, before the next video of a young chap creating vegetable plots by destroying - sorry - is ‘vegetabilising’ a word - random bits of his Dad’s rather nice garden of flowers and a lawn. Potatoes in a circular bed around a tree, flower plants uprooted for turnips. Indoors, he tries to steal a march on nature by sprouting potatoes inside egg boxes.

I am amazed I remember this, but then at that stage I was still taking notes. I also recall there was a lot of digging.

We are threatened with repeat visits in later episodes.

Back to bromide Alan, standing there looking wholesome, saying nice things about the value of community gardens, which is a lead in to a video of a gardener with fetching dreadlocks chatting to a lady with a fork attacking a mound of compost.

After a while he takes off his coat, rolls up his sleeves, takes over the fork and gets stuck in.

When that’s done it’s our Alan again (muted cheers don’t echo from the rooftops), admiring a plant and spouting more soothing words…

Oh, d’you get the pattern? It’s the TV version of a glossy magazine from the doctor’s waiting room, with Titchmarsh as the editor doing little quarter page intros to each article.

And they do cover a fair amount of ground, so to speak, with further pieces about creating a cottage garden, a tattooed man growing mushrooms and an amiable lady talking knowledgably about houseplants, but without looking directly at the camera.

On this last one I sat up and took notice, for I actually do have one indoor plant, and there she was, carrying a snake plant - sort of like my small snake plant - and advising us to keep it away from direct sunlight.

Which was a bit of a bummer, as I can’t move mine without investing in a plant stand, and I’m trying to give up buying unnecessary stuff.

Which rather encapsulates the difference between me - the non-gardener’s non-gardener - and anyone who actually takes pleasure in watching this worthy, somewhat stuffy, resolutely humdrum program.

To resolve the snake plant conundrum, they would be beetling off to the nearest garden centre, pleased at the excuse to gawk at bromeliads and fondle - oh, I dunno - a palm tree before heading into the canteen for shepherd’s pie, peas and a yoghurt, ending with the triumphant purchase of a beige plant stand to take home in the backseat of their regularly serviced ford motor car.

Whereas I would leave the plant where it is, make a coffee, line up the crackers and open a book.

‘nuff said.

Dress to Impress (Series 1 Episode 9), on ITV2, Wednesday March 6, 5:00pm

Well, I dunno: a reality show with fashion and dating. It sounds absolutely dreadful. The sort of thing to make you splutter into your cornflakes. As if the human race hasn’t suffered enough.

I chose to review this precisely for those reasons. I thought I would loathe it, and I could get my writing knives out and hone the sarcasm to a sharp and biting edge. In truth, I find it easier - and more fun - to be vicious about programs I hate than to be kind about the ones I don’t.

(Laugh) D’you sense a ‘but’ turning up here? You would be right. For I loved it. It was entertaining, quick moving and - above all - fun, with not an inconsiderable dash of charm, good humour and heart.

The basic idea is a riff on ‘blind date’ a rubbish program that made me want to vomit. ‘Dress to impress’ is like a butterfly emerging from an ugly caterpillar.

So, what happens? The game is simple: a singleton is ‘wooed’ by three others with fashion choices, and goes for a date with the winner.

I really would have liked to have been a fly on the wall when this idea was first pitched. It sounds completely dumb. You can imagine someone smugly saying, ‘I suppose we could bring in a fashion expert to advise!’

But - thank goodness - the budget obviously didn’t run to that, for the good natured ineptitude of the contenders is the delightful strength of the show. Despite what they might think, no-one, but no-one, is an ‘expert’.

It starts with little cameos to camera:

The girl: Ciara is a student by day and a podium dancer by night and is very bendy. In proof, she cocks her knee behind her neck. Her dad buys lots of her clothes.

Danny has muscles, a pigtail and poses in budgie smugglers in a field. He says he wants a wife, kids, a house.

Chris sings, raps and owns three pairs of sunglasses. They’re his thing, along with inventing the useful word ‘comfortability’.

And Dan’s a laid back marketing manager and DJ who smiles a lot.

No-one knows anyone else, but they’re all up for a date and a bit of a laugh.

The boys assemble in a pub and see a video of Ciara asking them to buy her a classy and glamorous outfit for a night out. Like my Dad would buy for me, she adds as a careless afterthought.

As an aside, her dad is also called Dan. Out of the four men in this mix, two are called Dan and one is named Danny. Chris is the odd one out.

Ciara is blond and it’s the first time they have seen her. She doesn’t wrap her knee behind her head this time, but they’re obviously much taken.

The boys each have a budget of £150 and a shopping time of 30 minutes. So it’s more Primark dash than Prada stroll.

While they’re busy selecting bad fashion choices, Ciara and her dad sit on sofas and swig the free wine, waiting for the outfits to arrive.

Danny and his imposing man bun swagger into a dress shop, ask for something size 6, finds the only one they have lacks va-va-vroom, goes to another and is persuaded to buy a black number size 8, on the dubious basis the saleslady said it would fit a 6. Considering Ciara has mentioned she likes tight fitting clobber, it’s a dangerous move.

Chris meantime, for a glamourous night out, is busy buying two tops, one white and frilly, the other decorated with pineapples, to go with a pair of denim shorts studded with little white balls. He finishes with cork shoes allowing replaceable straps and a little music themed necklace.

Dan wanders from shop to shop for a while, eventually buying a pair of black jeans. Then, hunting for a top, he drifts into a couple more shops before going back to buy one he rejected earlier. He then has about 8 minutes to purchase shoes and panic buys the first pair of the right size he comes across.

Ciara opens Chris’s choices first. She looks at the pineapple top and says ‘there’s a lot going on!’ She and her dad burst into giggles. She’s contractually obliged to put them on. Even I can tell the pineapples are anti-glamorous. But then my take on glamour is defined by an adolescence spent in the age of the dinosaurs.

Next up is Danny’s size 8 dress. Ciara puts it onto her size 6 figure and gathers vast folds of unwanted cloth round her waist: she and her dad don’t even giggle, just shake their heads.

Last of all is Dan’s modest black jeans, sheer white top and panic bought shoes, which wins the least worse race by a country mile. Ciara goes temporally demented and says she thinks Dan knows what he’s doing. Huh. As if.

On being eliminated, Danny-of-the-oversized-dress sends in his video for a ‘look what you’ve rejected’ moment. Ciara and her dad see him take off his top, flex his muscles, undo his ponytail and shake his hair loose. They are not that complimentary and do high fives at a lucky escape.

We move on quickly to the grand finale! Ciara wants beach and fairground wear.

The budget is expanded to £200, but shopping time is still limited to 30 minutes.

Chris believes he’s aced round one, so he expands his buy 2 strategy to encompass shoes as well. He ends up with loafers, sandals, and a couple of tops that can double as a dress. He adds an Eiffel Tower necklace and a random fidget spinner, which is curiously apt, considering he has just showed his complete lack of decisive decision making.

Dan this time stays focussed and relies on the helpful sales lady, buying somewhat baggy grey shorts, a white top with excessive sleeves and sandals. On the basis he got away with it last time, he gets nothing else.

Ciara and her dad are getting to be old hands at this, but that might be the free booze kicking in. I expect they wished they had another bottle or two when they examine the outfits.

Long story short: she’s very dubious about everything and her dad concurs. There is a lot of shaking of heads. But she has to pick one. And have a date with the winner.

Chris and Dan travel to Margate for the beach date. Ciara will turn up wearing the winning outfit.

The plush hire car arrives, the chauffeur opens the back door.

The boys hold their breath. So do I. Well, sort of.

And Ciara emerges like a flower unfolding, wearing Dan’s shorts and unfortunate top.

Chris wishes the couple well and leaves, declaring to the camera she would have looked better in his stuff before shrugging his shoulders and walking off.

In a neatly edited epilogue, Ciara and Dan ride a carousel, down cocktails, have a stilted, rather fetching first date conversation and agree to meet again. Ahhhhh.

On the evidence of this episode, ‘Dress to impress’ is kind, good-hearted and fun. Series record? Yep, you bet: always good to have a stocking filler to hand.

So, moving on:

The Rise and Fall of Boris Johnson, on Channel 4, Wenesday March 6, 9:00pm. And on the day after.

In the pantheon of British prime ministers since Margaret Thatcher there has been Major, Blair, Brown, Cameron, May, Johnson, Truss and Sunak.

And of those, the character we all recall the most clearly is Boris Johnson’s hair.

‘The rise and fall of Boris Johnson’ is a four-part documentary charting this undeserving, sleazy mountebank’s rise and fall. But who knows: he’s not yet 60, so plenty of time for him to make a comeback. Unfortunately.

I’ve just watched the first couple of episodes which - as you would expect - starts with his absolutely ghastly father, who proudly declared (and here I paraphrase) something like ‘being old-fashioned, I had nothing to do with my children growing up.’ Nothing to do with them? I suppose driving Boris’s mother into a mental home and sending Boris off to boarding school at the age of ten doesn’t count.

At this point I was almost making excuses for him: after all, crap, deprived childhoods tend to make crap needy adults.

A succession of talking heads lead us through the various stages of the Boris evolution. Boris at the Oxford union. Boris as a journalist, shouting at a yucca plant to help him write more entertaining lies about the EU. Anyone remember the bans on bendy bananas, or prawn cocktail flavoured crisps? All vintage Boris.

Nope: he’s a bit of a lad, they’d much rather remember the affairs and the children, and - of course - the hair.

Boris goes into politics: David Cameron sends him off to fail at becoming Lord mayor of London, but he wins.

And somewhere, early in this mix, he hosted ‘Have I got News For You,’ and seamlessly floated into public consciousness, like a tadpole emerging from frogspawn.

I admit it: I watched and was charmed. His bumbling, self-depreciating act of an intelligent man knowingly playing the fool for your enjoyment was - and still is - quite superb. Totally convincing: maybe, I thought, there are some conservatives worth paying attention to.

Oh, the power of a sense of humour. People voted for him because he made them laugh.

And then Cameron, in hissy fit over UKip, decided a referendum on the EU would be a good idea.

And Boris - by now one of the most recognisable faces in the public domain - dithered, intentionally whipping up a lather of excitement.

Episode one ended as he stood on his doorstep, said he’d thought long and hard, but finally was going to advise us to vote leave.

After a brief recap, episode 2 opens with Boris having mundane thoughts about ambition and climbing up ‘this ladder of things’, then switches to him hauling himself aboard that massive red bus with the ‘let’s fund the NHS’ crap on the side.

After a brief and unnecessary segway into the Johnson family (divided between - and I quote his sister - ‘those who think Brexit’s a shit idea and those that think it’s a really shit idea’) we’re back with Boris, now joined by Micheal Gove, a man renowned for having 6 ideas before breakfast, 5 of them rubbish and 1 really really rubbish. Gove has got the hump because Cameron - in a rare moment of clarity - sacked him.

I was expecting a rather dull 10 minutes of clips of campaigning speeches and the like, and perhaps an appearance by the evil Mekon Dominic Cummings, but no. We looped back to Oxford University in 1985 for a revealing 5 minutes of Gove, wearing a kilt and taking off his boxer shorts, Boris as Mafia boss becoming Union president and Cameron looking very very young.

They were all in it together.

Returning to 2016, we catch up with the campaign: Boris with a pasty, Cameron in shirt sleeves, the counters ticking over as they registered the tallies on Brexit result day.

And who should pop up for the first time: Nigel Farage, telling us how depressed he had been until Sunderland voted leave. Nige knows how to craft a story: he’s had enough practice. Revealingly, he also smirked out Boris and Gove didn’t want to win, hadn’t expected to win, and had no plan of what to do if they did win.

Now that I do believe, particularly when you see them standing around looking shell-shocked, like frogs surprised the water has finally boiled.

Cameron went off to a shepherd’s hut, intent on killing the world with boredom by writing his memoirs. So the PMship became available! Peep-peep! The race has started.

Swiftly on to the great betrayal of our times. Ha! Gove, with a prescient foresight not usually on display, torpedoed Boris’s leadership bid by standing himself, for the perfectly justifiable reason Boris couldn’t organise a fart in a cowshed.

May became prime minister and immediately appointed Boris foreign secretary so he could jet around the world embarrassing himself, and us, on a global scale.

After finding he’s getting nowhere slowly, he resigns and chases votes by claiming burkas are like letter boxes so when May gets swamped by Brexit hoo-haa and resigns, he’s nicely poised.

And - because he makes the conservative party members laugh - wins.

The second episode finishes with the ghastly sight of Prime Minister Boris Johnson glad handing the crowd after giving his victory speech.

Will I be watching the remaining 2 episodes? I certainly will. Covid! Parties! Brexit! Illegal prorogues! The list is long.

At the risk of sounding a boring old fart, politics should be dull, competent and effective in making lives better.

Not an unedifying circus of ego and stupidity.

But we are where we are.

Now:

Paranormal Caught on Camera (Series 6 Episode 8: Inside the Screaming House and More), on Really, Friday March 8, 9:00pm

Well, I dunno what to think after watching this. So let’s start with a few solid facts:

The program is scheduled for an hour, but take out the lengthy lead in, the commercials, the trailers and the credits at the end plus a bit of filler and it’s perhaps 40 minutes or less.

In that time they have 6 video clips, each lasting a minute or so. With one exception, each clip has a couple of seconds of something weird happening. The exception is some strange lights in the sky, moving mysteriously for perhaps a minute before descending below the horizon. Or - as an awed voice says - they vanished!

And it’s all presented to us as a documentary. They give the names, the date, the location (they show a map with a big arrow pointing at the spot) and a bit of back story. They have - and here you should be able to hear the air quotes in my voice - “experts” solemnly making comments.

You are left in no doubt about the veracity of what you are being shown. There is absolutely no room for scepticism, cynicism, or disbelief.

There is something out there, and you’d better get used to it.

The thing is, it does draw you in. They take full and expert advantage of your natural inclination to suspend your disbelief in order to be entertained. That’s fine when you’re watching Peppa Pig or a superman movie: if you didn’t at least half believe it was sort of true, you might as well stop watching and concentrate on removing your belly-button fluff.

But having been drawn in, it’s only a short step away from thinking ‘golly gosh! Gee willikers! Maybe there is something in all this. Oooo oooo.

The first video, introduced with pulsing music and the title ‘the screaming house’ is fairly typical. A couple of paranormal investigators go to a derelict house in Cheshire, England. Years ago, a girl living there had been murdered. Since then, there have been reports of screaming noises.

They go at night, obviously with - not so obviously - a teddy bear that lights up if it detects electromagnetic fluctuations, what looks like a mystic radio and a curved wooden object called an Aztec death whistle.

The house looks grotty. The intrepid investigators enter what was probably the living room and immediately complain of a deadly chill, and of feeling threatened. The teddy bear starts flashing and the loudspeaker gives out some groaning noises. Thoroughly spooked, the leader daringly blows the death whistle and monitors the result with an app on his phone. More groans which - with a bit of imagination - could be words.

Our heros have had enough, and depart as fast as they can. Much waving of torches.

One turns back to film the house and catches a black shadow of a shape seemingly peering round the front door. It looks like the head of someone briefly staring at them before vanishing. And it’s this half second image that elevates the creepy-crawliness to a level justifying inclusion in ‘paranormal caught on camera.’

Seeing is believing: therefore it must be true.

And that dark nighttime pattern of feeling uneasy, becoming increasingly frightened and finally legging it out of there after something weird occurs, is repeated, with a few variations, in the other video clips. And as for the lights in the sky, the chap who filmed it says it was near an airport, so it couldn’t have been a plane and anyway, the way it was moving renders that impossible.

I can’t even attempt to debunk everything we saw, but really, in this case, it looked exactly like a couple of kids fooling around with lighted drones. They probably landed them because their dad came out and said: you shouldn’t do that, we’re near an airport.

So, what do I think?

Well, I suppose, in the end, I view the supernatural in the same way that I view all that religious tosh like god, allah and the rest of the nonesense trying to make us, as humans, not responsible for our own existence.

It’s comforting to believe you can swap good behaviour now for an afterlife when you die, but I find this idea absurd.

Just because you can’t prove something doesn’t exist, it doesn’t prove it does exist. As Bertran Russel once said (and here I again paraphrase) ‘If I believe a small teapot’s orbiting the sun, prove me wrong.’

Ha! ‘Nuff said!

Gladiators, on BBC1, Saturday, March 9, 5:50 pm

Oh God, I don’t think I’m up to reviewing this. I’ve just had a poached egg. Five minutes in and I’m already wishing I’d gone for a walk in the rain instead.

Too much glitz, too many well toned bodies with bulging muscles, too much fake camaraderie. No thanks.

Like Christmas, I’m bailing out and giving it a miss. Ah: there’s the off-switch. Click!

And that concludes the reviews for this second episode of ‘I Review Freeview’.

Next time I will try to review the following 5 programs, but I might only make it to 4 or perhaps even 3, depending on events dear boy, events.

Find it, Fix it, Flog it (series 7 episode 28) on Channel 4, Wednesday March 13, 1:05pm
Open House: The Great Sex Experiment (series 1, episode 2) on E4, Thursday March 14, 10:00pm
Wonka: The Scandal That Rocked Britain on Channel 5, Saturday March 16, 7:35pm
Garage Sale Mysteries: The Pandora’s Box Murders on Great! TV, Sunday March 17, 9:00pm
Coma (series 1, episode 1) on Channel 5, Monday March 18, 9:00pm

As per normal, I selected pretty much at random. Who cares about safe places? Looks a bit of a mish-mash, if truth be told. One for for the recycling nerds, a do-it-by numbers American stodge, some open mouth incredulity and what I hope will be an absorbing drama.

We’ll see.

Don’t forget, contact me through the website Ireviewfreeview.com or email contact@ireviewfreeview.com.

Thank you for listening, and goodbye for now.