It's true to say I actually like about 10 TV programmes, although I'll happily watch millions when there's nothing better to do. However, apart from House and Top Gear, there is only one other programme in the whole world that I get arsey about missing.
Brooke Knows Best.
Now, for those of you who don't know, this is a reality documentary charting the life of Brooke Hogan, daughter of Terry "Hulk" Hogan, who was a boxer or something. The plot is simple: she spends her entire life talking to her roommates (fit and gay respectively), while we sit there bored shitless waiting for something to actually occur. Hardcore BKB fans will know that her parents recently got divorced after Tegs started knocking off one of Brooke's friends, and now both parents are shagging someone nearer their kids' age than their own. The result is an unmissable mix of Miami footage and the lovely Miss Hogan in a range of skimpy togs.
It's what our forefathers fought for.
You'll be surprised to learn that the production values on this epic aren't exactly spectacular. Indeed, the whole programme actually lasts about 17 minutes, when you strip away the 4 million adverts, and easily the most annoying part of the show; the "Coming Up" section.
Basically, this is what happens:
1. Opening credits roll. Staged beach shots which make the Baywatch cast cringe ensue
2. Brooke voiceover: "Coming up on Brooke Knows Best"
3. We see a minute-long montage of literally everything which is going to take place in the show tonight. I mean EVERYTHING.
4. We sit through the rest of the show watching exactly what we were shown in the preview, embellished with the occasional house or location shot, or one of the roommates looking wistfully into the middle distance, possibly wondering why the feck they're in this tripe in the first place.
It seems to me that 2 things have taken place for us to end up here:
1. Brooke actually has a normal, run-of the mill life (except no job, it appears)
2. The production team have spunked so much money on the production of this piffle that they have to cobble something together, albeit with results that don't exactly have the Emmy awards committee moistening their undergarments.
The sensible option would be to say "You know what, B? We might as well can this, cos you don't do owt remotely interesting, and the only stuff you ever do that is vaguely watchable is over so quickly we have to rely upon padding it out with millions of swimmers or skaters or external shots of your house that we've already used fourteen times in this show"
Then again, if they did, where would people like me go for their car crash fix? Jeremy Kyle? I think not, squire. Keep up the good work, MTV.
No comments:
Post a Comment