James reviews 'The Apprentice' and 3 others.

Transcript

Hello, I’m James Brook, and welcome to the first 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.

Normally, I’d have itemised what I’ll be reviewing on the previous episode, but for this episode there ain’t any previous episodes, so I’ve just picked these more or less at random.

I will be reviewing:

The Apprentice on BBC1, Thursday February 22nd
The Hotel Inspector on Quest, Saturday February 24th
Mission Impossible on Film4, Sunday February 25th
Our Flag Means Death on BBC2, Monday February 26

That’s one program I haven’t seen for many years and three picked at random.

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

‘create a montage of the following: a pointing finger, a hotel sign, a motorbike and a skull and crossbones pirate flag.’ I dunno about you, but I’m not that impressed.

Before we start, here’s what will be 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.

The Apprentice (series 18 episode 4: discount buying), on BBC1, Thursday February 22nd, 9:00pm

I haven’t seen ‘the apprentice’ since Katie Hopkins startled Alan Sugar by removing herself before he said ‘you’re fired’ or ‘you’re hired.’ I have to admit I thought, what a sensible thing for her to do. Since then, of course, she seems to have gone off the rails.

And speaking of people going off the rails, ‘The Apprentice’ is now back again for what seems like the zillionth time.

And it’s hardly changed. There they are, on one side of the table: Sugar himself, a bit more lined, Karren Brady with increased slap and Tim Campbell. (Who he? No idea), all looking successful, well-groomed, and here-we-go-againish.

Opposite them, the usual bunch of hopeful haircuts, full of vim, vigour and corporate bullshit, all willing to give one hundred and ten per cent to make idiots of themselves.

The team names they chose were ‘Nexus’ and ‘Supreme’ which have the usual depressing smell of nominative determinism about them, and any sympathy I had for these poor sods fled hot foot out of the door.

I remember this test from what? 15 years ago? They have to buy a list of items in 8 hours and get fined if they miss any or go over time. It’s all about money, so the team that spends least wins.

So they settle down to pick a project leader. And my first spike of irritation occurs. This task has been around since day one. In fact, Sugar himself, a man who probably hasn’t been in a Tesco since mini-skirts were all the rage, said “It’s one of my favourite tasks!”

But not one of these would be titans of commerce and industry said: “I have a plan for this specific task. I have been waiting for it, I’ve seen it before. Therefore I am prepared. I know how to win.” Not one of them. Instead, they just quibbled about negotiation skills. Poof!

Anyway, team Supreme elect Jack as task leader while Nexus plump for Raj.

They study large physical maps and puzzle over the list, which contains items they are unfamiliar with, like Jersey wonders, shucked oysters and a Bachin.

And that’s when I remembered why I stopped watching ‘The Apprentice’. That over whelming sense of this-ain’t-real-itis.

In any sane, modern, connected world, a quick Google would have told all. Or indeed a look at ebay or Gumtree to see if anything is nearby and up for grabs. But no, sorry people - you’re being forced into the world as it was when Sugar started making his money, some 50 years ago.

OK, so maybe the lack of modern tech was to test the candidate’s resourcefulness and ability to think sideways, like a crab walking, but I felt it was like asking a ballerina to dance in splints and army combat boots.

However, that said, the real reason they are being force fed the 1970s is obvious: because it’s TV; because they want tension, drama, argument and toys thrown out of prams.

Cool, calm, considered, informed decisions and well run projects don’t make drama.

But (sigh) it’s useless to blame a TV program for being a TV program. You might as well complain fish live in water.

So, onwards, to Jersey, which - of course - gives the chance to show some ready-made tourist puffery of sunlit beaches, swooshing blue seas and panoramic vistas of yachts in harbours.

Jack’s strategy - such as it is - is to ask for a 25% discount, but Raj is even more ambitious: she tells her team to go in at 50%.

Each team splits into two, items are allocated and off they go in their swish black people carriers.

For the next 25 minutes or so, it’s a series of semi-staged encounters with shop owners and sales people, where no other customers exist and everyone studiously avoids looking at the camera.

You’re on TV, folks, but pretend you aren’t!

And you know what it’s like: once you see the cracks, it’s difficult to see anything else. For example, they rock up to a bakery making Jersey wonders (a delicious looking twisty doughy treat) and are told if they give a hand, the price will be dropped. Immediately, all four are kitted out with flimsy blue aprons and gloves and getting stuck in.

Who had that idea? I bet it was the producer, having a quiet word with the seller beforehand.

So precious time was soaked up and in the end - despite their heroic dough twisting - they ended up paying more than their competitors.

But enough griping. To the contestants locked in this abysmal process, it’s real. They’re all giving their 110%: our job, as viewers, is to sit back and enjoy.

So that’s what I do, although ‘enjoy’ comes over as a bit strong; it’s more ‘oh God, let’s get to the bit where someone’s fired, shall we?’

The finishing line is at a lighthouse at the end of a long causeway. Of course it is. It’s a TV show. Cue our contestants running frantically to get there before 6:30. Some do, some don’t. Someone gets a piggy-back, but they’re still late.

By now I’ve forgotten who is on what team. I start dreaming of cups of tea and toast.

Back in the boardroom, it’s recriminations all round. But who will get pointed at by the firing Suger finger?

Jack’s team lost badly: they bought most of their items at higher prices, missed a couple and were late.

The winners went off to enjoy themselves on sailboats while the losers dribbled off to the formica-topped tables of the loser’s cafe.

We drop in on the discussions between Sugar and his side-kicks. Karren - who has now unfortunately sprouted outsized yellow shoulder pads - unhelpfully suggests he sacks the lot, a rate of attrition that would see the whole series finishing before half time. Excitedly, I think, ‘Oh, go on!’

Back in the big house, the winners quickly forget they are only sitting on plush red sofas curtesy of the others managing to limbo dance even lower under the incompetence bar and congratulate themselves on how well they’ve done. Ha.

So: who is going to be sacked?

To me, it’s clear cut: Jack because he was responsible and one or two of the others. Maybe even three.

And so it was: Sugar got it right. Jack went and Amina, who led her sub team backwards and forwards in a furious search to overpay for knitwear, was also exiled.

The survivors made it back to the house, entering one by one to whoops and hugs.

Jack and Amina wheeled their suitcases to the taxis of shame and were driven off. At least - in their last words before the dying of the Sugar light - they didn’t come out with that ridiculous old bromide: ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.’ But I bet someone does at some stage.

So, have I put ‘the Apprentice’ on series record?

Well, I must admit, I have. I’ve taken a bit of a shine to one of them, and want to see if she makes it. And with a zapper you can edit out the boring bits.

Now:

The Hotel Inspector (S14, ep 2: the Sea Croft B&B, Lytham st Annes), on Quest, Saturday February 24th 2024, 10:00pm

Programs like these have long been a staple on TV. Y’know the sort of thing: some poor sods are having a hard time, so an expert comes barging in, points an expert finger and says ‘do this, do that’ and ‘get rid of this, stop doing that.’

Such TV smarty-pants are now sticking their noses into the murky backsides of many things, from dogs to restaurants to used car salesmen.

It makes good drama: will they take advice? Will they succeed? Or is everything doomed to failure?

With ‘The Hotel Inspector’ the name gives it all away. There’ll be a hotel, guest house or B&B that’s not making enough money. In will come the expert, and biff! in a short time the business will be profitable. Or not.

For me, the enjoyment factor mainly depends on the likeability and approachableness of the expert.

In ‘The hotel Inspector’ the expert is Alex Polizzi, with signature hair. She has a wide smile and - like most of her kind - says it as it is.

In this episode, Alex gets out of the taxi, takes one look at the signage, sighs and shakes her head, muttering the dread phrase ‘old fashioned’. She enters and meets Georgina, an ex business studies teacher intent on now practicing what she preached. But she’s struggling to get footfall outside the holiday months in summer. To keep things going, hubby Jamie has to work away from home.

Alex examines her room - the best they offer. She hates the swans made of tortured towelling and is bewildered by the sheer volume of soaps, hair gels, shampoos and shower caps on offer. Downstairs she doesn’t like the display cabinet of branded Sea Croft goods, doesn’t like the carpet, doesn’t like the wall paper, doesn’t like the furniture, hates the dated feel and really really hates all the signs declaring drug dealers and unaccompanied small people are not welcome.

Georgina helpfully explains they’re a regulatory requirement, to which Alex forcefully replies “‘Yes, but they don’t have to be right there. I feel as if I’m entering a headmaster’s study!”

After staying overnight and causing panic in the kitchen by asking for poached eggs, Alex confides to the camera she’s not sure what should happen next. If all the B&Bs in the area are struggling, it probably means there are simply not enough potential customers. But if the others are doing OK, then so should Sea Croft. So off she toddles to find out, calling in on the local tourist board and other interested parties.

Satisfied other B&Bs are doing OK, she sits down with Georgina, smiles, leans forward slightly, fixes the hotel owner with the critical eye of a friendly crocodile, and delivers her broadside.

Georgina, she declares, is hiding, by fixating on detail and sitting around waiting for the weekly laundry. Instead, she should be cutting costs but, most of all, marketing. Into this mix she adds a few machine gun splatters about being bossy, the display cabinet, the carpet, the wallpaper, the …. you get the idea.

Georgina obviously finds these home truths hard. She is reluctant, defensive and probably needs a box of tissues.

But Alex is one of those intense people who really does seem to care. Her certainty and honesty are hard to resist. I have to confess, I’m becoming a bigger fan by the minute.

Having stuck a metaphorical firework under Georgina, Alex departs. On the train she goes through the list of costs, marking items with a highlighter. All the unnecessarily expensive hair gels add up. Why two shower caps and two soaps? If they’re sharing a bed, guests can share toiletries.

In a couple of minutes, she’s saved 7 grand a year.

Next time she visits, she’s done a bit more homework and developed a plan. She takes Georgina to Blackpool. They visit the theatre, which does literally hundreds of shows a year, and needs digs for the constantly changing casts. They discuss putting Sea Croft on their digs list.

Alex has also dug up a nice chap who is setting up a Nordic walking group. They’ll need somewhere to stay. The three of them give Nordic walking a go along the beach.

Maybe it’s the benefit of striding with poles, but Georgina becomes visibly more relaxed and receptive as Alex’s plan takes shape: fill up those dead 9 months outside the summer by targeting niche groups. It begins with actors and ramblers and ends with oh, I dunno: attendees at an oyster eaters convention? Whatever, the aim is a profitable B&B!

Alex departs and Georgina and Jamie are filled with enthusiastic energy. The outdated signage is replaced, the wall paper stripped, the carpet changed and the colour scheme muted down and made modern. Even the display cabinets are consigned to the bin.

Alex visits again, approves the new frontage and strides into the interior like an explorer half expecting a murky dark jungle, but is soon overcome with the delights of the refurbishment.

Georgina probably needs her trusty box of tissues again, but we aren’t privileged to see them.

Later, Alex - never one to let a metaphorical firework fizzle and go out - rings to tell them she has organised some actors to stay overnight, 15 nordic walkers the following day for tea and buns and she herself will be there in the morning.

As indeed she is, arriving before the actors have surfaced for breakfast, which - with Jamie doing the eggs, is a huge success. Alex grills them with leading questions along the lines of ‘did you find the breakfast good enough?’ As you might expect, the actors agree and went on their way, assuring Georgina they’d recommend Sea Croft for the digs list.

In the afternoon, like a small vigorous army, the nordic walking group come striding into view.

Georgina goes to greet them while Jamie and Mum and Dad (retired hoteliers) frantically slice and butter.

With 15 sitting down for tea the dining room is packed, but all goes well.

Alex and Georgina have a final chat, declaring victory. Hurrah!

Like the lone ranger, Alex departs into the sunset.

Roll credits, that’s a wrap.

But I watched on, hoping for a catchup labelled ‘6 months later….’ but there was none.

So I googled the hotel. They’re still in business, their smart, professional website full of confidence, with Georgina and Jamie proudly declaring Sea Croft as ‘the most wonderful bed and breakfast in all of St Annes!’

There’s even ‘Georgina’s secret Lash Lounge’ where, for a fiver, she’ll give you Russian lashes. Which sounds interesting.

All good stuff. I checked the dates: this program was first shown in 2018, so most likely Alex did her thing in 2017. I am writing this in 2024; that’s 7 years and a covid pandemic later.

And Sea Croft is still going strong.

Good. I’m really, really pleased. Phew!

Moving on:

Mission Impossible — Fallout (2018) on Film4, Sunday February 25th 2024, 9:00pm

In all honesty, I think I’m getting too old and cynical for action films. The insanely ridiculous plots, the unkillable heroes, the predictable waves of action and non-action, the climatic last confrontation: they all - now - tend to leave me cold.

But maybe, just maybe, this Mission Impossible will prove me wrong. Since last watching one, I have invested in a bigger TV!

And if all else fails, I have a zapper.

So: onwards! Upwards! Or at least sideways.

Well, I dug out the popcorn and settled down. I tried very hard not to pre-judge, but to accept it on its own terms and immerse myself for a couple of hours.

And d’you know what? I enjoyed it very much. Tom Cruise - marginally - looked his age (56) and the love interests were all old flames of at least some maturity, which was a refreshing change. Even better, any sex scenes were replaced with a few intense and totally ignorable heart-to-heart chats.

In contrast, Roger Moore was only a year older when he stopped James Bonding in ‘A View To a Kill,’ a totally embarrassing film which should have been re-titled ‘A Crinkly runs about a bit!’

But I digress.

The plot of ‘MI 6’ as the afficionados undoubtedly never call it, is pretty routine. Terrorists are trying to build and explode 3 atomic bombs to generate chaos, conflict and misery with the laudable aim of creating peace.

A questionable logic at best, for one is reminded of that pissed off Scottish chieftain from 2 thousand years ago, who said ‘the Romans create a desert and call it peace.’

However, in the universe of action films, the plot is merely there to give some semblance of coherence to the co-ordinated crash-bang-wallop sequences of stunts, explosions and chases.

Essentially, it’s the good guys chasing after the bad guys or the bad guys chasing after the good, with some fights in between. Here, most of the chases involve motorbikes. Well, it is a Tom Cruise film, after all. It’s noticeable he doesn’t always wear a crash helmet when powering the wrong way down one-way streets, dodging cars and sweeping round corners with one foot scraping the ground. Presumably it’s so when he takes his aged parents to the gala opening he can whisper in his mum’s ear, ‘look ma, I’m doing my own stunts!’

In the welter of shifting loyalties, people pretending to be other people and suspicious characters, I lost track of the plot pretty early on, only really picking it up towards the end when Simon Pegg, explaining how to defuse 2 linked atomic bombs, says ‘it’ll only work when the countdown has started.’

Immediately I thought, with a groan: ‘Oh God, not another digital clock with big red numbers ticking off the time left before the end of the world? But of course, it does mean exactly that. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick! (Sigh)

And only 2 bombs? Well, there was initially going to be 3, but one didn’t make it.

Tom Cruise somehow ends up in a helicopter chase, Simon Pegg is nearly hung while the third member of the team finds a bomb and quietly practices defusing techniques. He’s in an alleyway between two tents, but no one interrupts except for one of the old Tom Cruise love interests, who lends a hand.

The helicopter chase finishes with a predictable crash where the only survivors are our hero and the chief villain, who have a fight at the edge of a cliff.

Do you really need to ask who wins? Or if the bombs are defused? Of course not. For that’s the truth about these out and out action films: the good guys always win, usually bent and battered, but all ready to be patched up and sent out to save the world again.

The excitement comes from pretending to oneself that perhaps this time the world won’t be saved and we’ll all be plunged into a Mad Maxverse, surviving on boiled corn plasters and 50-year-old cans of Heinz baby food.

Hence my big screen TV and the popcorn and my concerted effort to change my usual sardonic nature into something a tad more sunny and accepting.

And, somehow, it worked. A switch was switched, a change was made: events happening on the screen became clothed in a kind of temporary reality. The willing suspension of disbelief. No longer was I a cynical adult looking for cracks down which to pour scorn: I became 13 or so, sitting goggle eyed once more in a small 1950s cinema, staring at a screen as giant as the world.

The magic of film. Escapism. Yep, and why not?

We can’t live all our lives in dull reality.

Anyhow: moving on:

Our Flag Means Death (s2, ep 4: fun and games) on BBC2, Monday February 26 2024, 10:00pm

Many things in this life bewilder me. There’s big things, like climate change, wars, famine and wanting to go to the moon. And small things like ironing jeans, Elastoplast tins impossible to open if you’ve cut your finger and who invented rain.

Somewhere towards the lower end of this scale is this program: ‘Our flag means death.’

It’s a TV comedy about pirates. Well, I think it’s a comedy, more because it can’t be anything else. Definition by exclusion. It’s not an adventure, it’s not a drama, it’s not exciting, it’s not a sports program, it’s not a documentary and it’s certainly not news or current affairs, so it must be either a reality show or a comedy.

Well, it’s boring enough to be a reality show, but as there’s no narrator telling us ‘Megan lives with Mum and Dad and works in a toothbrush factory’ it can’t be a reality show.

Ergo! It’s a comedy, despite not being funny, or comedic or even faintly amusing. Maybe I’ve just invented a new branch of how to fill up screen time: the tediously uncomedic comedy. Mind you, there are quite a few examples out there: ‘Fleabag’ and ‘Catastrophe’ spring readily to mind: bewildering examples of crap that shouldn’t ever have been made.

OK, Ok, Ok: rant over. Why I should get incensed by rubbish TV programs when there’s an off switch and books to read and friends to visit I don’t know. I suspect it’s because I said I’d review it and having a rant is easier than actually writing a review.

So, what can I say? It starts with a bearded man lying down and finishes with two bearded men walking through a steamy forest. Well, when I say finishes with, what I actually mean is that’s when my brain finally refused to take an interest. There’s also a scene at a dinner table and a ship with sails.

In an attempt - I suppose - to give some verisimilitude, the dialogue is splattered with swearwords, people appear to be angry and one of the pirates is clean-shaven. At least he stands out, while all the others seem interchangeable.

So, that’s it. I won’t be watching again.

You might say this review is unfair. I should look for series 1, episode 1 and watch that and then plough forward to this current one. A chance for me to understand and appreciate the whole. Oh, c’mon now. Life’s too short and anyway, very very few people take any notice of what I say, so: no harm done.

And that’s about it: I can’t in all honesty think of anything else to say, so I won’t.

And that concludes the reviews for this first ever 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.

Alan Titchmarsh’s Gardening Club (Series 1 Episode 1), on ITV1, Monday March 4, 2:00pm
Dress to Impress (Series 1 Episode 9), on ITV2, Wednesday March 6, 5:00pm
The Rise and Fall of Boris Johnson, on Channel 4, Thursday March 7, 9:00pm
Paranormal Caught on Camera (Series 6 Episode 8: Inside the Screaming House and More), on Really, Friday March 8, 9:00pm
Gladiators, on BBC1, Saturday, March 9, 5:50 pm

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

Comfort zones are sooo last year.

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

Thank you for listening, and goodbye for now.