I don’t know if you’ve ever been to Borehamwood, but it’s
not worth it. I’m from a crap town
myself so I can say these things. I
have, however, found myself there before, and both times it was due to Big Brother. Can you believe that the largest commercial
operation (probably) in this part of North London is the Big Brother
studio? And every January and summer it
is descended upon by a raft of household names (I didn’t say ALL households),
each desperately hoping to get a bit of work in showbiz by taking part in Celebrity Big Brother.
Given the show’s home has been Channel 5 since 2011, contestants’ chances
of getting back on the telly after a series ends are actually higher than
ever. Hold tight for the inevitable: a
heavily promoted four-episode run of Posh Former Politician And Working Class
Hero Go Dog Grooming or a three-part special of Disgraced Ex-Popstar And
Washed-Up Child Actor Test Lilos.
But if we go right back to 2001, we’ll find a much more
tasteful approach to Celebrity Big Brother, designed to be more palatable to
the broader tastes and narrower minds of middle England. There were only six celebrities (and you had
heard of them all). It was for charity. It was co-broadcast on Channel 4 and the BBC.
The BBC! And it only lasted ten
days. Today’s celebrity housemates have
to stick things out for up to 30 days, though lest we forget that beloved Vanessa Feltz did manage
to have a breakdown in series one after only a handful of days.
Sixteen years later, it must be fair to say that it’s really
only a hard core of lifelong fans still tuning in, as series 21 hits our
screens on a nightly basis. You won’t be
surprised, given my love of trash TV like Bromans
and Geordie Shore, that I count myself firmly
among this number. Celebrity or normal,
I will take Big Brother in any guise.
With the normos, their desperation for attention drives them to be
locked into the house for days on end.
But for the celebrities, it is often their desperation for attention
they have had and then lost that drives them, which leads to even more
compelling viewing. It’s not even
important if you’ve ever heard of them.
Whether they’re a runner up from some awful US dating show, or they were
in that sitcom from the seventies that your parents remember watching, they all
end up completely sucked into the highly pressured communities of tension that
take shape in the house with each series.
There’s always excitement as they go in. Who will it be? What will they say? Will they get booed? Will they fall over in the rain? Why does everyone in the crowd look a bit
overweight? I’ve taken to watching the
insertion broadcast on fast forward, as it’s often incredibly awkward. It’s the first real episode that gives you
the insights on the entrances, as the overnight editing that takes place allows
the important snippets to be properly sound-mixed and thus begins our
journey. Before long, you’ve forgotten
all you knew and assumed about these people and it’s all about what they say
and do in the house. For me, this is
perfect entertainment. While the
environment and circumstance are utterly utterly fake, the relationships and
interactions become real. It’s not a
soap opera whose script has been generated by cliché bingo, it’s real people
struggling to articulate themselves and control their emotions. Drink it in!
Earlier series were won by whoever was the biggest name
going in, such as Julian
Clary or Ulrika
Jonsson. 2014 was a particularly
tough year when the two series were won by the most awful individuals: Jim Davidson and Gary Busey. But now, with just the biggest fans still
watching, it’s whoever has the most harrowing journey in the house that is
rightfully rewarded.
So, let’s take a look at my favourite moments from these 21
glorious series.
Series 7 Alex Reid kick-boxes
a snowman
It snowed heavily and the housemates made a snowman (see,
the famous are just like us, aren’t they?).
Then Alex Reid went out and kick-boxed it into a pile of nothing, all
while make weird breathing noises that proved he really knew what he was doing
about martial arts. The editing drew
this out into a long segment and it took on a strangely poetic quality. Fantastic.
Bear was an absolute nightmare to live with, antagonising
everyone for his own amusement. Yet it
was very gratifying to see how riled up he got right-wing slop-jock Whale. Sinking to Bear’s level, he slowly emptied a
bag of ground coffee over the lad’s head.
It escalated quickly and you could just feel the violence in the air,
but Bear was somehow savvy enough to know that underreacting was his best
strategy.
Series 3 Jackie Stallone enters
the house
She waltzes in and is first spotted by her ex-daughter in
lax, Brigitte Nielsen. Understandably, Brigitte screams Jackie’s
name in surprise, to which Jackie replies, in a broad New York accent: “Yeah,
Jackie.” Try shouting it when you next
enter a room full of people and you’ll be amazed at the respect you gain.
Series 3 Kenzie is dressed as
an egg
Kenzie used to be Blazin Squad, but he isn’t
Marcel. I forget the task, but Kenzie had to spend a
considerable amount of time in a giant, encumbering egg costume. He wouldn’t fit in something like that these
days now he lives in a gym, but he was still a wee thing in 2005. Lisa I’Anson was complaining
about her Bo Peep costume. Deadpan,
Kenzie was heard comparing his fate, muttering under his breath about having
the raw end of the deal.
I don’t want to be predictable, but this cannot be beaten. My skin still crawls at these two adults
role-playing like children. Just think
about George mewing and licking himself for a moment. Go on.
The standout moment was how he suggested it to her: “Do you want me to
be… the cat?” That pause, bookended by
his Scottish brogue and the subdued volume, gave the whole scenario an air of
specialist porn (that I have never seen).
Series 3 Lisa I’Anson calls John McCririck a fox
McCririck is a vile bigot, with high expectations of how
women should look. However, these
expectations didn’t extend to his own body.
Undergoing a quick change in the Celebrity Big Brother bedroom,
shuffling around to get some trousers on in his saggy, baggy whities, he showed
the effects of his lifestyle choices.
Lisa I’Anson (who I can’t believe has come up twice in my best moments)
ironically catcalled him, and, of all the words, picked “fox” in order to
respond to the sight confronting her.
Cruel, but hilarious. Sometimes,
when I need cheering up, I think of this moment, and it always works.
There are many more, including Jedward, the Austin Armacost and James Hill
bromance, Speidi and
Kim “I wouldn't shit on you if you were on fire” Woodburn.
The current series has taken a worthier approach. This isn’t going to be a laugh-and-point exercise
at the expense of fame’s failures. We
are celebrating the year of the woman.
Such endeavours have attracted the likes of Ann Widdecombe (who
refuses to have any fun) and Rachel Johnson (who I
once had tea and cucumber sandwiches with at the offices of The Lady). At first, the girls were alone, but they have
since popped some men in. So now, I am
watching Ginuwine (whose
song, Pony, my sister and I innocently sang along to as children) sitting on
the same sofa as Ann Widdecombe.
This is the beauty of the show. But so much for the year of the woman, this
has become the year of gender: the casting has thrown together a
male-identifying drag queen and a fully transitioned woman who was born a
man. Cue fascinating discourse as to whether
their individual gender expressions are at odds with each other. Hopefully nobody is surprised that men have
taken over from women the conversation about women. What is surprising however, is that this
really all does happen in Borehamwood.
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