Su-bo

As Susan Boyle hysteria sweeps the nation like swine flu, it seems the British public love a home-grown hero. Boyle is the epitome of geek chic. The self-confessed virgin's story is straight out of a Hollywood rom com... Never Been Kissed, 40 Year Old Virgin, She's All That... they all bear striking resemblance to Boyle's transition from laughed-at loner to delicious diva. The rags to riches story of this bonnie lass is pure TV gold, you could see the £ signs appear in Simon's eyes before she'd even reached the chorus.

It's bad enough that her surname sounds like a puss-filled skin abscess but the fact that the whole world knows her sexual history (or lack of it), would be hugely embarrassing to most people. Not Boyle, she knows which side her bread is buttered on and is quickly learning how to lure in the media. She's a cash cow who Simon Cowell is keen to milk.

Freak Show

Anyone watch Louis Theroux’s attempt to befriend paedos on BBC2 this weekend? Sinister, voyeuristic and, at times, had me recoiling in horror.

One scene in particular, which echoed the opening scene of Titicut Follies (1967), was particularly strange. Titicut Follies (a must-see for any documentary-lover) opens with the patients from a State hospital for the criminally insane performing a vaudeville-style show for the entertainment of the institution’s Governors and selected guests. Parading the them out on stage, it’s uncomfortable to watch as the patients, some rather disorientated and bewildered by the performance, unwillingly participate in a cruel exhibition of their mental instability.

Similarly, a scene in A Place For Paedophiles, made for equally uneasy viewing. As part of their annual Halloween celebrations, the patients sang a rendition of ‘Addam’s Family’. Given the context, the family-friendly lyrics took on a whole new meaning - “They're creepy and they're kooky, mysterious and spooky, they're all together ooky, The Addams Family. Their house is a museum, where people come to see 'em, they really are a scream, the Addams Family.” An ill-advised song-selection and one which gave Louis yet another apt opportunity to stand in the corner and watch on like an uninvited party guest, fearful of encroaching on the paedo party. His face said it all.

Thanks to the remarkable access gained by the production team, the film offered an eerie insight into the lives of ostracized individuals who society chooses to shun. Scenes in which grown men construct toy fun fair rides and reminsce about preying on their own children, were disturbing to say the least. Faced with stories of unimaginable human cruelty, Louis kept his cool and took the role of a passive bystander – resisting the temptation to judge, criticise and condemn.

If nothing else, Louis is certainly a brave man. In one scene, he obligingly drank a cocktail mixed by a man convicted of date rape. In his typically polite and oh-so-British manner, he complimented the convicted rapist on his concoction, sipping the drink as the camera lingered on his awkwardness.

Although Louis never really delved into the deep realms of their depravity and questioned what prompted them to act out their perverted fantasies, he did seem to form a relationship with some of the contributors. By the end of the documentary he seemed verging on understanding them and finding forgiveness for their loathsome acts against children. Mostly they were Grandpa-figures you’d befriend if they were a neighbour, old genteel men, softly-spoken and welcoming… and it was easy to forget, that these were the very qualities that enabled them to gain children’s trust in first place. A compelling documentary but one that chills to the core.

Watch on BBC iplayer here:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b00k3ms6/Louis_Theroux_A_Place_for_Paedophiles/

The cash-strapped future of British broadcasting

courtesy of... http://www.b3ta.com/challenge/creditcrunchtv

We love em', Kevin Bishop loathes 'em...

Media Savvy’s Thursday night is about one thing… The Inbetweeners. OMG, it's well good. It’s Skins for those who didn’t spend their youth popping pills, getting laid and dressing like the Primrose Hill set. Skins is like, sooo last year.

Unlike the achingly cool, gurning, posh kids in Skins, The Inbetweeners are virgins and misfits, pubescent and horny, single but willing. They brag about their imaginary sexual conquests, gatecrash underage discos and drive around in a girl-repelling canary yellow Fiat.

Their lives revolve around ‘muff’, ‘minge’ and ‘gash’. They even go caravanning in a futile attempt to get laid. Another of Jay's disastrous attempts to help lose their 'V' plates. Lol.

Series 2 is now playing at 10pm on E4. As unmissable as Will’s Mum’s tits.

How to spot a TV Researcher

Media Savvy was intrigued to read The Guardian's Graham Johnson ranting about "the shiny, skateboard-riding world of independent TV" in his article on Monday. It's less of a serious piece of journalism, more of a shameless personal rant about Zig Zag Productions and his bad experience working on a low budget production for Bravo. Really, Graham. Call yourself a journo? A little bit of research into Bravo would have informed you that it's nothing more than a low rent, male-skewed and rather seedy digital channel that specialises in tabloidy doco shows about sex or gangsters (or both). It's the TV equivilant of The Daily Star.

I mean, 1x45 documentary for a 30k budget - what did you expect?! The channel caters for people with low intellect and even lower concentration levels. It's a poor man's Panorama - think Danny Dyer, not David Dimbleby. But in Bravo's defense, they do car crash TV very well.

Much to my office's amusement, Graham went on to slag off the programme's Researchers as if somehow they're responsible for him not getting paid. Again, Graham, if you were a good journalist you'd have done some research and discovered that nowhere in a Researcher's job description does paying the talent come in. That's the PM's job, my friend.

Graham's grievances aside, the article did raise an important issue - why do TV Researchers dress like T4 presenters?

I quote, "We've all met them - the TV researchers who dress like members of the Ting Tings and come to work on scooters, skateboards and plastic children's toys . Futuristic bohemians they may be. But not necessarily journalists... Like mafia assassins, they come with a smiling face. The female TV researchers are posh and look like Peaches Geldof. (For posh read: will work for nothing for years, and can stay in Daddy's London pied-à-terre rent-free while career takes off)..."

Must dash, I'm off to Brick Lane on my vintage Lambretta to spend Daddy's allowance on skinny jeans, indie-pop CDs and Nylon magazine.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/media/2009/mar/30/freelancer-graham-johnson-tv-dispute

PS - we don't enjoy dressing like The Ting Tings or working for free, it comes with the territory. Just like a McDonald's worker doesn't like wearing a baseball cap with a big yellow 'M' on it.