After watching (well retching actually) George Galloway prowling around dressed as a cat while Rula Lenska stroked him and fed him milk off a saucer, I honestly thought the barrel had been well and truly scraped regarding celebrities prepared to do anything to appear on television.
I was wrong. It seems that humiliating celebrities has reached an all time high after a group of TV planners brainstormed for a full five minutes to come up with Scream If You Know the Answer – a show that makes Supermarket Sweep look like University Challenge.
It takes place in the fabulous looking Thorpe Park (they are the only winners here as far as I can see) when two contestants are teamed up with a celebrity each. Personally I think the first round should be “Contestant number one, here is your celebrity, can you name him/her in ten seconds?” Then watch as the contestant desperately tries to put a name to the vaguely familiar face.
With cryptically-named rounds such as Q and Aarrghh, Easier said than Spun, Yes or No Down you go and Queasy as ABC, you don’t need me to elaborate on the intricate details of each round, which is just as well really because there are no intricate details. Basically the celebrity and the contestant get strapped into various different styles of hellish-looking roller coasters, and get questions shouted at them by the presenter. They shout the answer, while we get a running commentary by a hysterical, shouting commentator.
As well as lots of shouting there is also ( joy of joys) lots of screaming as the Roller coasters fling them around, turn them upside down and give them a possible whiplash injury worthy of an insurance claim. Now I am not saying it would be easy to answer questions, no matter how simple they are, while your face is distorted by G force and you have sick in your mouth, and I confess I am a total wimp on any white knuckle ride. The only words I would be capable of shouting would be a stream of obscenities so bad I would be asked to leave the park as soon as the ride came to a shuddering stop. What I am saying though is how is this entertaining? Maybe the target audience is youngsters? So I turned to my 13 year old son who happened to be watching with me, and asked if he liked the show to which he replied, “No, it’s pants. I thought you were watching it – can I turn over then?”
The winning contestant announced he was going to buy a Chihuahua for wifey with his winnings, and I honestly wouldn’t have blamed Cleo Rocos if she had knocked him out right there. All that hyper ventilating, screaming and shouting and very possibly damaging her larynx just so he could buy wifey a dog for her handbag!
Oh well, I’m off to pop a couple of Anadin and lie in a darkened room and try to come to terms with the fact that’s thirty minutes I will never get back.
Posted by thrill-seeker Nicola