Friday Night With Jonathan Ross


Jonathan Ross 

Let’s face it, Friday night telly can be a bit of a strange beast. It tries to appeal to the widest cross-section of the country on the bizarre theory that those who don’t choose to get arseholed in the local pub would like nothing more than juvenile celebrity based entertainment as a way to unwind. Thankfully things right now aren’t as bad as during the Autumn run when we have to contend with the reprehensible ‘Friday Night Project’ – a show so irredeemably awful that every week I have to sell my television on the off-chance I might catch a few seconds of national fucktard Justin Lee Collins, and his partner in setting back in the cause of gay rights by a decade Alan Carr.

Right now Peepshow fills that slot. This is a show I used to like very much, and to a certain degree still do, but since the godawful ‘Mitchell and Webb Look /Experience / Endurance’ I’ve found it very hard to watch. In hindsight, I should have chosen that programme as it’s still one of the best written things on TV, but the popular rule of the house this week chose Jonathan Ross and who am I to go against the tide?

No-one does the chat show quite like the Americans – overlong fillers for the commercial breaks they may be, but they are anchored by genuine talents and personalities like David Letterman. Over here we have sexual tyrant Jonathan Ross, a man severely lacking the fundamentals of what it takes to be on TV – charm, wit and an approachable demeanour. Quite how this fame pervert rose to the enviable position of the BBC’s flagpole presenter is beyond me – his lucrative contract being the equivalent of executives dancing round the public rubbing the licence fee cash over their naked bodies.

Last night’s edition followed the usual formula; Ross comes out in a bad suit, makes homophobic jibes masked as good-natured-ribbing to his in-house band Four Poofs and a Piano and then moves onto introducing his guests. Normally the running order of chat-shows is dictated by the relative fame of the guests – lesser-known hasbeen first, homegrown favourite second, huge star third. The whole point of this order is to keep the audience watching until the end, to make them sit through the boring stuff until they get to the megastar.

Not this time, though. The main guests were phone slapper Toby Maguire and tit-slipper Kirsten Dunst from Spiderman 3 and the booking deal that came with them clearly dictated they go first – there was no way Sony were going to let potential cinema-goers turn off half way through the scatty ramblings of Sarah Brightman before having had maximum exposure to their product. And so these Hollywood stars were churned out first, and forced to endure the constant masturbation jokes, arse-licking behaviour and out-and-out vanity of Ross in the name of movie-promotion.

It is at this point that a new form of celebrity death-match was invented. Instead of brutal plasticine violence, we had a competition to see who could present themselves as more bored, uncaring and indifferent to the task at hand. I felt kind of sorry for Maguire and Dunst, truth be told, as they were clearly slapping on a plastic smile and trotting out the same old shit on what is, to them, another in a long line of publicity appearances. That said, it’s hardly any justification for the frigid behaviour and lack of will to say anything other than thee movie’s press release.

All three were odious people; Maguire as closed off and cold as a corpse, utterly disinterested in anything other than fulfilling his contractual obligation to be there. Dunst looked like a strung out crack whore, all bones and a perm and giggling like a three year old with mental problems. Ross was his usual charmless self, convinced that self-deprecating humour wavered any thoughts of homophobia, misogyny or sexual obsession. The interview was a self-fulfilling prophecy of mistrust, cliche and banality with Ross’ questions so insipidly basic that they could only have come from the contract with Sony, and the stars’ answers a rehearsed informality which far exceeded patronising.

When Ross deviated from the promotional details Maguire and Dunst clammed up, visibly concerned that Ross’ only interests were Maguires masturbation habits and the colour of Dunst’s hair. One 30-second sequence saw the majority of questions burnt out with a succession of one word answers and uncomfortable pauses, and the only telling moment came when Ross asked Dunst how she dealt with promoting films she didn’t care about and doing interviews she hated, “you just fake it” she replied. The audience applauded the honesty, Maguire looked shocked and Ross, missing the point entirely, simply held his hand out toward her and shouted “women, ha, women.”

The trailer shown, the film lauded as wonderful by Ross and their 10 minute obligation fulfilled, Maguire and Dunst scuttled off to supposedly spend the rest of the hour in the company of the confused audio mess that is Jamie T and his Hoxton support band. After a few minutes the camera stopped cutting back to their reactions, presumably because their immense fame meant they didn’t have to suffer through the rest of the show like the usual B-list celeb plebs forced to hawk their shit on Ross’ show.

Bill Bailey was reliably amusing, although confused as to why Ross kept insulting him in such an unnecessary way. Sarah Brightman was slightly insane but also very charming until the point she mentioned the size of Andrew Lloyd Webbers penis and her credibility dropped in direct proportion to the rise of bile in my stomach. The only truly entertaining section was the scales which tell you which celebrity you weigh the same as, Dunst equalling Fozzy Bear and Bill Bailey somewhere between Ricki Lake and Mr T.

Jonathon Ross is one creepy motherfucker. He isn’t nearly as clever, depreciating or ironic as he has convinced himself he is, and he reminds me of the sort of person that has to legally introduce himself to the neighbour when he moves into a new area. He is seedy, stalkerish and the sort of personality that makes you want to avoid him at parties. It’s about time the BBC dropped this outdated format and presenter and actually tried to make Friday night TV something other than a vacuous indulgence in one mans ego.

Next week I’ll watch Peepshow.

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31 Responses to “Friday Night With Jonathan Ross”

  1. Swineshead Says:

    Bit harsh on JR, I feel. Japanorama is alright and he’s good on Film2006/7 etc…

    Having said that, I saw his love-in with Gervais this series and the ‘spontaneous’ dance with Travolta – it sickened me to the very core.

  2. Joe C Says:

    Regardless of how bad That Mitchell and Webb Look was, Peep Show is still a work of genius. Slightly more formulaic (and puerile) this time around, but still funny as fuck. Moments like Mark on the exercise bike telling his personal trainer to fuck off make the whole thing worthwhile.

  3. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    Well said there Monsieur Medlo. Ross’s usual modus operandi is to rip the piss out of anyone British and lick the arse of anyone American. I’m staggered how many times he’s lied to major American movie stars that their latest pile of crap is ‘great’, ‘amazing’, ‘wonderful’ etc, and then go on to slag the very same product off on Film 2007 – why hasn’t the BBC noticed this? Surely his credibility as a film critic is damaged by this isn’t it?

    And what’s his obsession with toys all about? Isn’t a nigh-on 50 year old man playing with crap manufactured for children just a little bit weird? He’s a man-child, a man-child!

    And he’s got too much money. And his house is too big. And his wife’s famous as well which is nothing short of greed.

    And his brother’s the worst film critic on the planet.


  4. Clair Says:

    I do like Ross, but I love him more on radio. The problem with telly is that anyone with an iota of brain cell has to be dumbed down to get a huge audience, and Ross is a prime example of this. And American guests on chat shows, especially movie stars, are realiably crap because, well, they’re American movie stars. Problem is, American publicists won’t let their turns appear on chatshows that aren’t gratuitiously fawning, and chatshows need star guests, so telly people have to arselick to get the *ahem* talent.

    Ross must NEVER have Gervais on again. Watching them is like interrupting in on a private conversation. And why does he have carte blanche to keep appearing to plug his wares on a public service broadcaster? Ross really does have to stop being so rude to guests like Bill Bailey. too. I thought he seemed rather hurt…

  5. David Says:

    I previously had little time for the lives of the rich and famous, but I have decided to spend my remaining years on the planet becoming a celebrity purely because it might give me an opportunity to kick Ross in the bollocks.

  6. proudfoot Says:

    I couldn’t agree more on the subject of the Friday night project. Utter shit.
    Collins and Carr are just not funny at all.
    The Charlotte Church show and Whatever spring to mind as equally awful
    weekend broadcasts.
    Compared to these, Wossy’s not too bad. He has his faults, among them his taste in music, his bum-chum type relationship with Gervais, his shameless masturbation of his screen persona and so on, but for some reason, I still quite like him.

  7. pental Says:

    i dont mind him. i like some of the guests he has on like helena bonham carter. but he went on about toys with her aswell. charlotte church show is worse. even though shes a fantastic singer!

  8. Jonathan Ross Says:

    Jesus Christ, wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of the bint who wrote this.

    Cheer up baby girl, why don’t you give us a pretty little smile once in a while.

  9. Swineshead Says:

    I wonder if the above is really Jonathan Ross? The email address seemed genuine…
    (PS – It was a bloke what wrote the article, just to clear things up)

  10. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    If it is Jonathan Ross, what’s he up to? Typing his name into Google? The ego knows no bounds!

    On a serious note, if it IS Jonathan Ross, I take back everything I’ve ever said about him …

    Can I have some money Jonathan? You’re the best. Money?

  11. Bryony Says:

    Leave teh poor man alone!

    I myself think he’s hilarious.

    And The Friday Night project is one of the highlights of my year. (I LOVE Alan Carr)

    Ricky Gervais on Friday Night With Wossy actually made me laugh out loud.

    Also, Peep show.. LEGEND!

    BUht I also Love That mitchell and webb look / situation / all of that lot.

    OKaii, maybe I jurst love all tv or something.. buht these are actually some of my favourite shows (After the mighty boosh of course!) maybe you just don’t have the right sense of humour (The insane, lets put sandals on our heads and dance like chickens kind.)

  12. Napoleon Calling Says:

    “OKaii, maybe I jurst love all tv or something.. buht these are actually some of my favourite shows (After the mighty boosh of course!) maybe you just don’t have the right sense of humour (The insane, lets put sandals on our heads and dance like chickens kind.)”

    Yes we do. It’s just we liked all that insane/chicken/dancing stuff the first time around when it was done by a little-known British comedy troupe called Monty Python’s Flying Circus.

  13. MR. Kish Says:

    JR is gr8 on Film 2007/8 shows. Arse licking on Fri nite. Crap guests.

  14. Swineshead Says:

    Mr Kish – I always disagree with JR’s film reviews. So you’re wrong. Mark Kermode is the only currently working film reviewer I can actually trust. Apart from maybe Peter Bradshaw, but he works for a corrupt rag what’s bought out by advertisers – so he often talks shit about crap like Knocked Up and the atrocity that is Juno (more of which later)

  15. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    Mark Kermode’s a fucking arse. A poncy, elitist windbag who wouldn’t know a decent film if it kicked him up the arse. It’s typical of a London, Guardian-reading woofter like Swineshead to like him, isn’t it just?

    And someone should pelt Kermode’s oh-so-retro hair with eggs. And he needs flamethrowing if he mentions The fucking Exorcist again. THE PONCE.

  16. Swineshead Says:

    You don’t know shit, cretin.

  17. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    I know Kermode’s a turd, so I do know shit. So there, you ponce.

  18. Swineshead Says:

    How did the cretin do in the pub quiz then?

  19. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    Alright, so me and the missus were beaten in a quiz by a team of nine people, but at least I don’t trust the opinions of a man who thinks The Exorcist is the best film ever made. Losing that quiz makes me an idiot, but trusting Kermode’s waffle makes you a liberal, Guardian-reading, commie nancy-boy who knows nuffink about films.

  20. Swineshead Says:

    I read the Guardian and I read the Times… so half right there. Liberal – hands up, generally speaking. Commie – nope. Film Studies ‘A’ Level means I know a fair bit about films (bring on bitter rant about academia which only highlights your infantile idiocy).

    The Exorcist is shit but then everyone has the odd dodgy opinion – like your James Bond fetish, itslef based on a weird homoerotic Roger Moore fixation.

    Better ditch that Mastermind application – you might make it to the second question on Who Wants To Be A Millionaire, but don’t aim any higher than that.


  21. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    Film Studies A Level? Ho ho! I didn’t need a Film Studies A Level, I just watched films.

    And I’ll pass over your unworthy jibe about Herr Roger. My love of Bond movies isn’t half as odd as your weird desire to watch every cruddy zombie film ever made.

    As for my not being clever … well I think we both know I could beat you hands-down in a clever bastard competition. And I wouldn’t need the second-hand opinions of a ponce like Mark Kermode to help me out, neither. Unlike you, I can make up my own mind, thanks.

    You fat, big-nosed lout.

  22. Swineshead Says:



  23. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    I’m cut to the quick by such a witty comeback, you fat bastard.

  24. Swineshead Says:

    It’s me glands.

    *covers paunch*

  25. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    Glands is it? Beer and fags glands can be a problem, I understand that. Add them to no exercise and Bernard Matthews consumption glands, and you’ve a lethal combination.

  26. Swineshead Says:

    I can’t argue with your assertions. My GP’s of the same mind.

  27. piqued Says:

    I can just see NC creeping about his kitchen playing Bond, holding his ‘gun’ (banana), humming the theme tune under his breath as he creeps up on his arch enemy ‘Blofeld’ (Fray Bentos and microchips)

    He’s quite alone

  28. Zdavoro is the name of my ebay profile Says:

    I don’t think i’m wrong. In fact I know I’m not. I like the persona of Jonathan on Film 07. Mark Kermode aint bad. Anyways there have been some great actors on Ross’s Show.

  29. xbox player Says:

    The Friday night project should be canned and recycled along with the host.
    no contest xbox 360 wins every week.

  30. Lulu Says:

    This was a bit harsh, I’ve just watched it again. I must point out that it was Jonathon that brought up the subject of how well-endowed Andrew Lloyd Webber is not Sarah Brightman.

  31. Quincy Phd Says:

    Hi Lulu. You just watched this again? Do you record all of Wossys shows, or are you the sort that trawls the net looking for Sarah Brightman interviews? Either way thanks for fact checking an opinion piece that no-one else has made a comment on in 9 months. Point made, lesson learnt.

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