Bromans

I don’t know what it says about me as a person, but Bromans really was 100% my format on paper.  Even back when I had only just found out what it was called, I knew I would be watching it.  It was an inevitability as certain as me fast-forwarding through the bad dances on Strictly Come Dancing or averaging about 1.5 episodes of Friends per day (and still laughing out loud).  In my real actual job, I work closely with ITV and had seen this gem coming up in the schedules a mile off.  In fact, it was going to be called Ladiators, but changed at the last minute.  The fact that both names are genius just goes to show that we are working with televisual gold here.

Have you ever wondered how today’s lads would fare if they were forced to train as Roman gladiators?  Have you ever wondered how their girlfriends would also fare if they were forced to live in Ancient Rome?  Me neither, but Bromans strove to answer these questions with as much slow motion footage as possible of attractive young people in scant cladding.

Despite its 2017 debut, Bromans stuck rigidly to assigned gender roles.  Was this historical accuracy, or just a lazy format?  The boys were the ones who actually got to take part in the fighting, wrestling, posturing and chasing.  Casting was a reality TV dream.  There was the skinny TOWIE cast off, the muscular TOWIE cast off, lots of tattoos, a Northern joker and a very well brought up rugby chap (each with a matching girlfriend).  Mostly in their underpants, they would take part in training sessions in the blazing sunshine under the watchful eye of Doctore.  I’m not sure what was more entertaining, none of the contestants remembering the word Doctore for the first few episodes, or David McIntosh’s very earnest attempt to play a serious character while he put the lads through their paces.  I’ve since bumped into David at a party. And by bump into, I mean that I was knocked across the room like a rag doll after accidentally colliding with his enormous bulk while getting out of someone else’s way.

Meanwhile, the girls would pursue more domestic activities, such as crushing grapes for wine and offering spa treatments to the boys.  In Bromans’ defence, the couples did share the duties during the laundry task, which descended into a piss fight.  I should point out that, for historical accuracy, the show recreated the Roman practice of using piss as a detergent, much to the contestants’ retching.

Each episode would culminate in the lads’ final competition, before, in a lavish ceremony, the bottom two performers would be forced to try and persuade the others to keep them.  Public speaking didn’t seem to be on the list of requirements when casting Bromans, so these slightly awkward moments are luckily topped by what follows: the remaining Broman couples then stand behind which lad and girlfriend they want to save.  The losing boy subsequently realises that everyone has mugged him off, is forced to remove his toga and march off in his golden underpants.  Classic.  Meanwhile, a banner emblazoned with his face is torched to signify his departure.  Depending on the wind, it might also flap into the other lads’ banners and set them on fire too, but they don’t show that on camera.  It’s more something you can assume.

In all of this, you have an epic set, complete with extras.  The budget seems to have been there literally to rebuild Rome, and it probably took more than a day.  Maybe two days.  I’m assuming the show was filmed abroad, which probably means the toga-clad extras have no idea what’s going on, but I’m sure they still really enjoyed themselves.  Because the couples live and sleep on set throughout, the show takes on a Love Island vibe.  They don’t shout out about getting a text (this is Ancient Rome, silly) but there are the usual arguments which tick the boxes of people looking for a bit of drama.

So finally, I hear you ask, what happens when you watch Bromans?  Firstly, you are torn between lust and wanting to go to the gym, depending on your sexual preferences (it’s 2017 so we are making no assumptions).  There are muscles, if you like those, and there are bikinis getting torn off, if you like those.  If you like both, then you may need to sit on a wipe-clean surface.  Secondly, you will learn approximately one thing per episode about how the Romans probably lived.  But you won’t care.  And lastly, knowing that this show was a must-watch for me, you’ll be appalled at me and my viewing choices.