darren hayman on spanish tv

This is charming, although at times really hard to watch - Darren Hayman is asked a set of challenging questions live on Spanish television. It's funny to watch how a Spanish critic struggles with Darren's very English self-deprecation. There's clearly an expectation that music should be a flamboyant, romantic art, and an supposition that Darren will be able to talk fluently about it in that light. He does his best, but his face is a treat when he is asked "would you say that you had been unfaithful to music, or has music made a cuckold of you?".

Great stuff.

jonathan ross and mark kermode

Do I care that Jonathan Ross is leaving the BBC? Well, of course not, given that I hardly ever watched or listened to his programmes, but I mind a little in the sense that the baying, myopic tabloids which made such a prolonged and nauseous protest against him have been handed their victory.

I actually think that Ross is a very talented and likable presenter - although by no means flawless - and he has been treated very shabbily by the BBC over the last couple of years. He should have walked when they made him pre-record his radio show.

Either way, his parting does create one point of interest - and that is whether the BBC will appoint the one obvious, deeply intelligent, stand-out candidate to replace him on Film 2010 or, well, or someone that isn't Mark Kermode. He would be a fabulous appointment - he's already responsible for one of the best podcasts, if not the the best, that the BBC make, and would, I suspect, immediately transform BBC1's flagship film programme from something I never watch, to one of the best programmes on TV. I hope they do it.

my nineties

Was I alive in the early 1990s? I'm sure I was, but I'm watching one of those TV shows about the decade, and a bit mystified at how out of step I apparently was. The show is 'Electric Dreams', where a family are stripped of their modern technology and then given the appropriate tools for each decade, getting the technology of a new year for each new day.

So far, we're up to something like 1994, and my record so far is pretty poor. We've been introudced to:

Sonic The Hedgehog (I've never played Sonic The Hedgehog)
Super Mario (I've never played Super Mario)
Nintendo Gameboys (I never had a Nintendo Gameboy)
Satellite TV (I never had satellite TV)
Pagers (I never had a pager)
Mortal Combat (I've never played Mortal Combat)

My nineties were very different indeed - can't see this program getting much more accurate for my experience. I didn't use the internet until 1996, or have a mobile until 1999. Oh dear.

out of proportion

Wonderful first episode of the new series of The Thick Of It this weekend; just watched it on iPlayer - super stuff. Still not sure what the best line was, though. Omnishambles, perhaps. Actually no, I think it's the following exchange:

Nicola Murray: "You set this up didn't you?"
Malcolm Tucker: "What?"
Nicola Murray: "To put me in my place, or get back at me for ignoring your advice, or some other weird perceived slight that doesn't in any way merit this massive fucking out of proportion Israeli-style response?"

design for life

Anyone else falling rapidly in love with French designer and all-round-genius Philippe Starck, courtesy of the BBC's 'Design for Life' programme? I am - it's great value TV (essentially The Apprentice for designers) and I think Starck is the most charming man in the world. He is a force of nature; imitating a klaxon when he enters a room, milking his heavy French accent for all it is worth, and coming up with adorably eccentric soubriquets left right and centre (describing evolution, he declares that "to start weez, we wazz bacteria! Zen feesh. After, we become frog! It ees not exactly ze real story. But eet's close!").

Best of all is the way he fires people. No agressive finger jabbing, no scorn. Instead he merely saunters over, shrugs apologetically, and gently delivers two warm, deadly kisses, one to each cheek. Mwa Mwa. You're fired.

You can catch up on iPlayer.

snow mistake

I love it when newsreaders make mistakes on air; for some reason it's particularly amusing when people invested - generally speaking - with such dignity and poise slip up, either through a rare and temporary lack of composure on their part or a technical glitch which visits a moment of humiliation upon them. Just now Jon Snow - just about the most unflappable of news presenters - became absolutely and comprehensively flustered at the top of the 7 o'clock news. He just stood, for a moment, like a rabbit in the headlights. 'Um', he said.

A minute later his calm was restored. "I apologise", he said, "for the technical difficulties".

An apology was far from necessary. In my flat, wonderfully distracted from hanging out my washing, I was cackling happily.

book people

Some amazing quotes in tonight's episode of the Apprentice. The young bucks are stood in a Charing Cross Road book shop while a pair of studious booksellers carefully examine some literature they've been given to sell. Quietly, diligently, they set about making a valuation. They take their time, because they are methodical people. The Apprentices are outraged at this abuse of their time.

"We can't take any more shit from them" Ben cries.

His colleague agrees. "You know what they're like, though", she replies. "They're book people, they want to waste your time".

He nods, crossly. "I'm fed up with these book people talking shit to me for too long".

Moment of realisation. That's me, isn't it?

stewart lee on bbc2

Just watched the first episode of Stewart Lee’s Comedy Vehicle, which aired on BBC2 last night. It’s a sign of how poor a lot of television comedy is that, although I knew already that Lee was my favourite stand-up, I was genuinely taken aback by the gulf of glass between him and pretty much everyone else I’ve seen telling jokes on TV in the last five or six years. One thirty minute episode devoted to books, which took in wonderful linguistic jokes, high-brow cultural references, a sustained, pitiless attack on Chris Moyles and an energy and curiosity absent in most of his peers. Best of all was a long, rambling skit on "rap singers" which was, I think, the most satisfyingly slow-paced and uncompromising joke I've seen on the BBC; not because it was awfully funny (it wasn't), but because Lee insisted on telling it his way and not dumbing down for television. The whole show was a masterclass in intelligence.

So happy there are five more episodes to come. Bringing Stewart Lee back to terrestrial television is probably the best decision that the comedy folk at the BBC have made in recent history. Make sure you catch up with it on iPlayer.

red riding good

Bit early for a post-mortem on Red Riding, but... wow - massively intense and frightening, and it seemed both seriously artistic and bitingly realistic simultaneously, which is surely a hard thing to achieve. Some of the camera work was sublime, especially the framing and use of focus - but most significant was the depth of Peace's plotting and the brilliance of the adaptation. Acting not far behind.

Going to bed seems like a mad thing to do now. I need to find something soothing on Radio 4 before I can contemplate sleep.

on carol thatcher

I am disgusted with the fashion in which the Queen has capitulated to the Golly-hating Nazis at the BBC. I used to admire the Queen till she started pushing the diversity agenda of the lefties, signed the Lisbon Treaty which gave over the country to EU control. The Queen took a coronation oath to serve her country but it seems now she serves herself and the Marxist Government! I urge everyone to complain to the BBC and Buck Palace. Carol Thatcher should not be fired over a private comment about a well-loved toy!
- Pat, Dublin, Ireland, 5/2/2009 22:48

If I write about Carol Thatcher and the fact that the Daily Mail are orchestrating yet another public campaign to influence the perception of, and activities of, the BBC, I know that I am just falling into a helpless trap; giving yet more oxygen to a spurious subject and allowing myself to become enraged by myopic prejudices which are, despite the amount of coverage they generate, largely on the wane.

So its ok for that Jo Brand to make jokes about women and their times of periods and the BBC consider it comedy to be broadcast, also Ross and his twisted idea of filth, but to use the word Golliwog is a sacking offence. I hope the tories when they get in purge the BBC of all the freaks who staff it-
Stephen H Print, Thailand, 5/2/2009 6:35

Yet at the same time it's incredibly hard not to be exercised - and incredibly frustrated - by the whole kerfuffle. The facts as they stand are reasonably straightforward. Carol Thatcher, in conversation with a number of colleagues in The Green Room after a recent appearance on BBC's One show, made a comparison between a black tennis player and a 'gollywog'. Several amongst the number present were upset at this remark, which they interpreted as racist, and the BBC, after failing to extract anything but a very half-hearted apology from Thatcher, decided to terminate her contract with the show.

So all those Enid Blyton books I grew up with will have to be edited now, since golliwog is soooooo offensive?
- nell, sydney, australia, 5/2/2009 5:16

Now, as the comments above demonstrate - which are taken from the Daily Mail website - the right-wing media are swinging behind Thatcher (and most importantly, against the hated BBC) by declaring this a victory for political correctness and a defeat for common sense. So far, so very predictable. Just as the Mail occupied a position of moral authority when it decided that Jonathan Ross (the personification of the vulgar, liberal Briton they deride) had gone too far in his merciless teasing of Andrew Sachs, now they decide that Thatcher has been a victim of the same, ultra-liberal forces. Never mind that Thatcher's comments were arguably much more offensive. In the minds of the Mail, there is no connection between Ross's offensive language and Thatcher's. Far more important is that they hate him, and are like her.

If political correctness means anything, it is that those that practice it believe it important to take care, when using language, not to gratuitously cause offence to others. Ross was scapegoated by the Mail because they considered his words gratuitous and offensive (as indeed they were). Yet nowhere in their coverage was any mention given to the fact that what they were in essence asking him to do was think about what he said and not say things likely to upset others; a classic argument for political correctness. Although their intentions were undoubtedly malicious, and borne out of a hatred of both Ross and the BBC, one couldn't help wondering if the Mail was at last becoming alive to the importance of not abusing, denigrating, offending others.

The Thatcher debacle proves they have learned nothing. Their argument is not for sensitivity, care, thoughtfulness and good manners, but rather for the promotion of their own, highly traditional, values, and the disavowel of any beliefs which contradict them. One can say whatever one likes, and offend whomever one likes, so long as one doesn't depart from little-England prejudices. That Thatcher's colleagues were offended by her words is deemed irrelevant. Much is made of the fact that the racist term was used 'in private conversation', but in fact it took place in the workplace, where no conversation can be considered truly private.

So - I admit that getting worked up about all the above is largely pointless. The Mail will continue to pursue it's agenda, and I will continue to either avoid it, or read it in a fury. What I think is relevant, however, and worthy of conversation, is the increasingly importance being afforded to public complaints and online petitions, and the way that media is able to manipulate stories by encouraging reader participation, and along the way turn minor stories which fit their agenda from trivia into headline news.

If I were asked to name one positive thing about the Daily Mail, I'd say that it's always been a good campaigning paper. It has the ability to flag up bellweather issues and make headway with them, and it's certainly the case that over the years it has been a powerful - if not always positive - lobbying tool. I admired it for its coverage of the murder of Stephen Lawrence and its decision to give away energy-saving lightbulbs to readers.

Nevetheless, its influence in the last six months has been deeply pernicious; by encouraging outrage and fermenting dissatisfaction with the BBC, it's whipping up a frenzy which actually puts the reputation and future of the corporation in some doubt. It's a deeply cynical move driven not purely by this simmering, inconsistent moral outrage, but by the fact that the paper's owners have a vested interest in the demise of its most significant media rival.

More broadly, I'm starting to worry that the Mail, with a reach which far outstretches most of its rivals, is using this sequence of media stories to try to encourage some kind of moral revival, akin almost to religious fundamentalism in the US. Its aims are not journalistic, or even strategic, but rather political - it's putting together a coalition of deeply conservative, disaffected readers (not limited to these shores) who are feeling bold enough to decry not just political correctness but the very notion of anti-racism.

I don't mean to say that the Mail is starting a political party, or stoking the fires of revolution, but just as the arrival of Tony Blair and the revitalised Labour Party turned the nation gently leftwards in the mid-90s, there seems a risk that the right is attempting a similar trick. Unless the Mail's petty concerns and prejudices are combated, there's a risk that this mini-moral revival will drag the country to the right - and that would be a disaster.

I am sick of forever walking on egg shells in case some wimp gets offended by something I inadvertently say or do that they chose to misinterpret so they can play the victim card. I cannot believe all the fuss over an innocent toy and it is a repeat of the Sootygate episode! Golliwogs are not illegal and are found in many homes and I for one still have my old Golliwog from childhood. What next? Will this petty. toy-obsessed Government appoint Golliwog inspectors to break down doors and confiscate all the Golliwogs and Sooties?
- Elaine Worthington, East Sussex, UK, 5/2/2009 21:24

take it back

This is rather marvellous; Marcel Reich-Ranicki, a German literary critic - who has been made the recipient of a lifetime achievement award in the country's annual TV backslapping ceremony - has reacted in the customarily curmudgeonly way which we have come to expect from eminent literary types; he's handed it back and had a jolly good moan, too - wonderful.

From The Guardian:

"I don't belong here among all this rubbish," the 88-year-old critic and author said from the stage of the annual German Television Awards gala in Cologne. "I have been given many literature prizes in my life, but I don't belong in this line-up. If the prize was linked with money, I would have given the cash back too."

But not just declined to attend, obviously.

house of saddam

House of Saddam, a four part mini-series dramatising the several-decade long tyranny of the dictator of Iraq, Saddam Hussein, started on BBC2 last night. A collaboration with the American company HBO, and scheduled rather unfortunately in the holiday season, it was a handsome and effective drama which used the family-saga concept of the American gangster film genre to summon up the terror of Hussein's rule.

Saddam was - rightly - terrifying. There were, as in Kevin McDonald's awesome portrait of Idi Amin, The Last King of Scotland, efforts to portray both sides of the fearsome protagonist. But not many. Within minutes, Saddam (played by Gordon Brown) was purging his enemies and murdering his friends, killing his closest ally so that his enemies would fear him all the more. One moment he was talking his son Uday (at this point presumably still a latent psycopath) through the noble history of Iraq, and the next he was declaring war on Iran.

Because the drama was rooted somewhere between Shakespeare and the Sopranos, the war soon faded into the background, so that the family squabbles could resume. This was perhaps a shame, as the war was one of history's most tragic, with over a million Iranian lives lost. But perhaps there is more of this to come in later episodes, as the US and Chemical Ali - whose cameo provided a brief moment of levity - become more involved.

The programme was at its most inventive and engaging when dealing with Saddam's inner circle. Dead centre was his mother, a vicious crone who urged him forward in his unspeakable violence. When she died he shed no tears, telling her "you gave me nothing", despite her offering him the first bit of useful advice of her life. "I'm glad you never knew your father", she tells him, "he had mad blood". Saddam's response is ruthlessly rational. He takes his father's family to his heart forthwith.

Aside from the strong portrayal of Saddamm and Chemical Ali's comic turn, most interesting was the dictator's young half-brother (played by David Milliband) who is first seized close and then betrayed. The episode ends with him in a white fury, considering Saddam's cruelty. As future episodes will doubtless show, he got off, in comparison, deliriously lightly.

into the dragons' den.

BBC2's Dragons' Den returns tonight, which is good news, although it's hard not to feel that the brand has been devalued by endless repeats over the last year. The Apprentice, which is only shown once, always appears relatively fresh, but - a slightly snazzier credit sequence and a flash hairdo aside - this might as well be a repeat, which I fear might put paid to the idea that Dragons Den is about to make a crossover from BBC2 curio to hit show. Nevertheless, I've liked previous series, so I'm interested enough to tune in, wondering whether this time around James Caan, Deborah Meadon and Theo Paphitis will emerge as genuine stars and equal partners, or whether it'll continue to be all about Peter Jones and Duncan Bannatyne.

My first impression is how odd it is to see Evan Davis back doing his TV presenting stuff, having got so used to hearing him on Radio 4. When you're listening to him on the Today programme each morning - even if he is lighter in tone than most of his colleagues - it's very easy to forget that the man has a mohawk.

The first idiots, sorry, entrepeuners into the den are a bunch of student types, but, do you know what, they've thought of a genuine twist to the process. Either that or they've got lost wondering around looking for the X Factor studio. For they are, in fact, not a business as such but rather a rock band, and a not altogether terrible one either, although they do seem to be called Hamfatter. They play a two minute track which is kind of muso-end indie rock with soul horns. I would not buy it, but someone might.

Anyway, they want 75 grand to record an album and market it. They say they'll be needing ten thousand pounds to record it. What's wrong with these people - why don't they just get 80 quid for a copy of Garageband?

But I discover that I like the young men a lot - they're well spoken, keen and they know their maths. This is vaguely reassuring - it'd be utterly daft for a load of rock and rollers to ask Theo Paphitis for cash, but these lads are as corporate as you like (no insult intended). But things soon start working against them when Peter Jones wants to hear another tune. It turns out they've only rehearsed that song. Well, fair enough, but they won't have a go at another number at all, even one that sounds a bit rough around the edges. A band that can't play their songs live? Eh?

But believe it or not the offers start rolling in. Bannatyne goes for a varied equity deal, where he wants 50% 'til he gets his money back. The newly-coiffured Meadon and Paphitis team up to make a rival bid. And Jones is in, too - it's extraordinary how they're all happy to make an investment on the basis of hearing a two minute clip of one song. They all claim to have loads of contacts in the music industry, too. Really? How is this so? Meaden boasts that she runs a music download site, and the band look impressed. I'm not sure this is warranted, unless she's talking about iTunes. But I doubt she is.

I lose track of which deal they go for. It doesn't matter - you'll never hear from them again.

Next up we're back on more familiar Dragons' Den grounds; someone's invented a cushion, a new kind of cushion. The dragons begin a lip-curling exercise which I anticipate will last much of the rest of the series. We don't need more cushions.

Next up we have a Brighton connection, hurrah. Air Oasis LTD have designed a machine that turns air into water. Just like that. At first I mis-hear and think the effect works the other way around - water into air. But that's just a kettle, isn't it? Anyway, they want 125k for 10% equity. Looks good, but they make the schoolboy error of using the phrase 'educating the public' - words like educating make the Dragons very very angry. It's not as bad as saying 'charity', but still.

The contraption actually looks quite good for hot, water starved countries, and the inventors have taken out patents for a few Middle Eastern territories, so it looks good for a while. I like Barry, the salesperson, although I note he's talking so fast that he's turning air into water himself, too - direct off his shiny pate.

After a few minutes Bannatyne offers an opinion. And he's annoyed about the use of the word 'educating'. Hurrah, I knew it. I notice that Bannatyne gets harder to understand with each series - like Alan Hanson, he is working at eliminating vowels from his vocabulary altogether.

Barry is still banging on, and Deborah complains that his pyramid selling scheme amounts to bullying. All the Dragons nod dissaprovingly, a moment no less hilarious that when Alan Sugar gets angry about the same thing. Pot, black, kettle etc.

Actually, I change my mind - Barry is not a bully, but he is a self-satisfied prat; shut up now. You're losing them, I think, and Evan Davis's voiceover gets a bit silly, talking up the Dragons' mild criticism, describing them as 'furious Deborah' and 'enraged Peter' - of course they're not enraged at all. They decide to taste the water. And now things really do go belly up. It tastes terrible. Totally unpalatable, apparently, and now Theo really does get cross. No deal. Barry makes a few excuses, but he's blown it. Oh dear.

Next up are a couple from Kenilworth, and we're back in pantomime territory; they emerge under a big white sheet - they've come as a ghost!! Indulgent smiles from the Dragons, who are making a show of really quite getting on with each other. That won't last And now the couple are acting out some sort of hammy take on amateur dramatics. They've invented, it turns out, the lay-line sheet. It's a white sheet with a nobbly line down the middle, apparently. The line, dead-centre, will solve arguments about which partner is encroaching onto the other side of the bed. I

It's a novelty bedsheet. It's a bloody terrible idea. But couples argue over this all the time, the inventor - a man with one of those weird groomed goatees, like Morgan Spurlock's - tells us. It's a pretty dispiriting view of relationships, all things considered.

The Dragons don't buy it either. Bannatyne complains that his wife doesn't cross to his side enough, and - capitalising on the silly mood - Theo and Peter jump in the bed and roll around a bit. "Shall we avert our eyes?", one of the inventors asks. Have you shown it to anyone, Jones asks Spurlock. He's shown it to his friends, he says, but that's it.

Well, now you've shown it to the nation. I don't suppose he'll find many orders waiting for him when he turns on his computer tomorrow morning.

The last contestants up are a couple of game girls, who share a 'passion for entertainment', and who have created a bespoke party-giving company which is pretty good stuff, really, even if it's just living sculptures - human trees, human tables, and chandalier ladies. Their past clients include celebrity childrens' parties and Asda. In the end the Dragons all make offers, stick out their chests, and begin to snipe at each-other; it's the first part of the show since the rock band which is vaguely gripping, and this is the problem with the format; the best bits are personal, but unlike the glossy docu-drama format of The Apprentice, which provokes conflict and alliances, the show is dependent on a chemistry in the panel which rarely sparks to life. In similar circumstances, Alan Sugar and his advisors invariably share smiles, raised eyebrows and rueful asides - but because the Dragons are facing out front and in competition with each other, there's nothing except the odd manufactured argument or bout of stage-managed horseplay to break up the only occasionally diverting inventions.

Talking of which, the girls, meanwhile, go off to confer and make a decision. They opt to go with the least boastful Dragon, which is actually rather heartening - if unlikely to prompt a change of tactics from the fevered egos out front. They go for James Caan, who is, I reflect, the only Dragon I'd trust to mind my wallet for ten minutes.

The Dragons Den needs a shake up, I think - or just a raise in temperature; at the moment they're belching out smoke, not fire.

mary benson

Another ace episode of Mary Queen of Shops tonight, which you'll doubtless be able to watch with your iPlayer whatsit in hours and days to come. This time Mary visited an amazing, fusty old boutique in York and utterly transformed into it without sacrificing it's wayward sense of style. Best of all was the discovery of a wonderfully eccentric fashion designer - Mary Benson - whose dresses were absolutely fantastic and who casually described her clientele as "crazy cool girls" who "all have nice hair". Oh, and she was only 17. If you're ever in the distant North, she's selling stuff in Blue Rinse in Leeds and Selkie in York, as well as via her own website. Here's a brief BBC profile of her, and click the image below to access her myspace:

[Update: lots of hits on this page, so here's a bit more info I found. From Image Magazine].

She is only in her second year of her fashion course at Leeds College of Art and Design but her metallic dresses are already stocked in the boutique Blue Rinse and she will soon be seen on the TV programme Mary Queen of Shops.

Mary said: "I had to pitch my ideas to Mary Portas from Mary Queen of Shops. The competition was whittled down from 30 to three and I was one of them. She said that I was well established and that I was doing really well for my age."

Mary creates womenswear and accessories inspired by the 1950s and 1960s, including pinafore dresses with a splash of eccentricity. She began designing in the summer after she finished high school when she made skirts and sold them at the Corn Exchange.

She then applied to Leeds College of Art and Design and has been unstoppable. Her collections are varied from monochrome to metallics and, most importantly, are wearable.

Mary said: "I’ve been asked to create a collection for Vidal Sassoon. I have also been working on costumes for a music video as well as attending vintage fashion fairs where I sell accessories."

With meetings set with boutiques in Nottingham and a trip to London planned, Mary Benson is definitely one we will hear about in the future."

mr harvey lights a candle

I just watched a rather charming BBC telly movie in my hotel room, entitled 'Mr Harvey Lights A Candle' - anyone seen it? I think it was produced for Easter a few years ago, and features a wonderful controlled Timothy Spall as a pent-up teacher, for whom a school trip to Salisbury Cathedral proves a catalyst to a reawakening of sorts. Also on outstanding form was the brilliant Natalie Press, whose troubled teenager indirectly leads him to his revelation. A really nice film, which touches on closed secrets, reserve, religion and release; all ever so gently evoked, and nothing Oscar-worthy, but nevertheless moving. The sheer quality of the BBC's back-catalogue is exactly the kind of thing the BBC should be opening up on their iPlayer, and I hope this gets a deserved repeat one forthcoming Easter.

kicked to death by hoodies

Ah, just caught the second half of The Apprentice tonight, having been to the pub with Dave earlier, but I think I got the gist of it. They're all still useless. It's hard not to think, however, that it's about time that someone started holding Alan Sugar to account. He's very happy to pour scorn on every idea, but does he have any of his own? Tonight he laughed down the suggestion of eco-friendly cards, making it clear there was plenty the team could have done instead. For example, "I would have applauded you if you'd have designed a card which when you opened it said 'sorry to hear that your 11 year old son got kicked to death by a hoodie', because that's the sort of issue that people face".

My god. Does he really think people would buy that card????

That Mitchell and Webb Conundrum

I can’t be the only person who, as a massive fan of Peep Show, tuned in eagerly to the second series of ‘That Mitchell and Webb Look’ only to find it utterly unfunny. Admittedly series one was no belter either, but it was at least stronger than most BBC comedy fare of late.

I like Mitchell and Webb. I first became aware of them on Radio 4 in ‘That Mitchell and Webb Sound’, which worked well on the older medium. It just doesn’t on TV. Much of the sketches are lifted from the radio show and they have already become tiresome. The lazy script writers sketch, for example, might’ve have seemed a good idea but in series two it's just too drawn out and badly written.

They were assisted in the writing of ‘Sound’, the radio show, by Jesse Armstrong and Sam Bain, and, together, the four proved quite strong, although the list of writers at the end of ‘Sound’ was often very long. Later, with 'Peep Show', I have come to realise that they are more consistently at their strongest when they take a back seat with the writing duties. Perhaps Armstrong and Bain, who provide the majority of material for their C4 hit, have more of a talent for writing serialised comedy with strong established characters that the viewer cares for? I don’t know quite how much input Mitchell and Webb have in writing 'Peep Show', but it seems it's limited to the nuances that the characters of Mark and Jez add to each scene.

So why is 'Peep Show' brilliant, but 'That Mitchell and Webb Look' rubbish?

Here’s my suggestion (using a simple equation);

[surprisingly mathematical guest blogging by Dan]

life in cold blood

Richard Attenborough's 'Life In Cold Blood' started on BBC1 last night; exquisitely filmed and presented with extraordinary deftness, it was typically lovely.

Happily, it was Nancy Banks Smith's turn to do the TV write up in the paper today; her writing was typically lovely too.

"The most touching moment was at the very end when, after half a century in the job, Attenborough saw his first pygmy leaf chameleon. As the young presenter of Zoo Quest, shinning up trees like a schoolboy bird-nesting, he had filmed Madagascan chameleons before - entertainingly in black and white - but the pygmy leaf had always eluded him. Being elusive is the chameleon's speciality. It has medals for elusiveness (which it never wears as they make it feel conspicuous)."

All is well in the world.

online love

I've yet to play 'Second Life' or any of those big massively-multi-player online games, although I'm vaguely interested (and slightly appalled) by the concept. Last night BBC2 screened a program titled 'Virtual Adultery and Cyberspace Love', documenting the story of a mother of four who abandons her family for an online lover in another continent. Needless to say, it ends badly.

Thanks to the wonders of the BBC iPlayer, you can watch it for another six days ('til Weds 6th Feb). It's worth watching, and yet desperately sad; the concept of a second life preferable to your own is both dramatic and distressing.

It's all enough to put Guardian journalist Sam Wollaston off the idea of creating a character (he chose the monikor 'Rotting Albatross') and starting to play.

"I'll still do it, though. Rotting Albatross will have life breathed into him after all. But I've learned my lesson from Carolyn. He won't be a hunk at all; he'll be a shrivelled old hunchback, who lives in a hovel and goes around insulting people and killing dolphins. Everyone will hate him, and the sun will never shine. It will make my first life, in Dollis Hill, seem like paradise."

Very wise.

The show, incidentally, is part of the 'Wonderland' series which, so far, has been absolutely brilliant. Last week's show, 'The Man Who Eats Badgers' was even better. That's still available to watch, too, for another 4 days. The filming and editing are absolutely beautiful, so go see.

ashes to ashes

I've been watching the first series of Life on Mars again over the last few weeks, and marvelling once again at how brilliant it is; and all this is making me quite excited about the impending arrival of Ashes to Ashes, the 80s spin off which focuses on Gene Hunt and a new time-travelling companion - in this instance the rather dishy Keeley Hawes, which goes some way towards making up for the loss of John Simm's Sam Tyler.

Now that Ashes to Ashes is close, a couple of early reviews and previews are being published, making it easier to imagine the show. My feeling is that it will be quite different from Life On Mars, and these two previews bear that out. The first, courtesy of Ian Wylie at the Manchester Evening News, contains a few spoilers but is broadly positive. The second, a rather more objective response from The Times' Andrew Billen, is more cautious and negative, complaining that the new show is too glib and, bluntly, a parody of a parody. Discouraging words, and yet I can't help thinking the full series will prove Billen wrong, and be another success.