People often say this or that ‘has eaten itself’, generally meaning there’s an overabundance of it. Or it’s started parodying itself. Or it’s become so self-referential that it’s died on its arse.
Reality TV, it’s been said, has eaten itself. Ramsay’s Kitchen Nightmares has definitely eaten itself. How apt for a programme about rubbish kitchen staff suddenly turning out quality grub once the culinary God that is Gordon sweeps in to show what’s what.
Last night I tuned in to the ‘Mares expecting to see a new outing, but what was actually served up was a load of recycled stuff about the hapless Brian of the Fenwick Arms, with about 20 minutes of new footage added on at the end. And they have the nerve to call this a new series? The shysters. This was surely a Kitchen Nightmare revisited, wasn’t it? Which is what they call the series when they repeat it… I’ll admit to being totally confused. So was this a Kitchen nightmare revisted, then revisited again? Or was it something else? This is reality TV eating itself, puking itself back up again then eating itself again, then puking in some massive, endless cycle so blurred that the viewer is shocked into a state of catatonic confusion and forgets that Flight of the Conchords has started on BBC4 and curses the day he was born for getting stuck in a pointless television-rut AGAIN.
Having said that – it was a good one. I was on the edge of my seat wondering if Brian was going to have his sixth heart-attack every time Ramsay did a swear towards him. And I actually quite liked Brian’s enormous collection of plates. Some of them had retro chic. What a waste of crockery to smash them for shits and giggles.
Before this confusion I watched the ‘Enders, tuning in right at the start in the knowledge that I was about to witness carnage on a grand scale after Monday’s cliffhanger, when all the bad lads stormed the Queen Vic. And, as usual, Easties delivered.
A bloke who looked like a steroid-fuelled David Schneider went mental, smashing regulars with a baseball bat and his frenzied fists. ‘How many lines ‘ave you done?’ his boss asked, in a rare casual drugs reference. First time coke’s been mentioned, I think, since Janine got addicted to the stuff and sold her mimsy to Ian Beale for pennies so she could get hold of the stuff.
As predicted, Honey got smacked in the gut and her baby came out silent. Probably dead. Jase’s fault. Billy’s destroyed. What a pleasant way to end Tuesday’s episode – a screaming Honey, a sobbing Billy and a mortified Jase. Ain’t life grand?