This summer Big Brother has had to adopt a harsher tone with it's housemates, more akin to that of an Edwardian nanny than an elder sibling. While those in it's care ga-ga and goo-goo around the house, wetting their pants and making a mess, one can't help feeling sorry for the people behind the scenes charged with their well-being. It's a wonder these housemates don't sleep in ornate prams, for never has a more self entitled bunch occupied the main series.
Blessedly, head of the crèche, Marco Pierre White Jr left the house last Friday, inadvertently making Big Brother history by apparently becoming the first ever male to be evicted by the public in week one. A troubling accomplishment, really as it's only taken sixteen years, but it couldn't have gone to a more deserving bloke. I do hope he takes a bit of time out now, recoups and reforms, but I also hope I can win the lottery by adding all my favourite numbers together.
With Marco gone, and his holiday fling with Laura over, she wasted no time in distancing herself from him, stating the house felt better in his absence. She knows she needs to undo the damage of her miscalculated romp with the dirty mop, and she seems to be taking the born again approach. Some people have in turn started the process of defending her against critical commentary online. That's good, and well intentioned, but all the cries of "Don't slut shame Laura!" only serve to continually pair the words Laura and slut.
The ever growing popularity of Hughie is encouraging to see. He is very likeable. The kind of effortlessly endearing person that housemates of yore have tried in vain to mimic. A totally authentic pleasure to watch. But then, as if on cue, in flies Ryan Ruckledge like some soul sucking incubus, trying to lick up all the good stuff. Anyone can sit beside a fire, Ryan, and many can take it's warmth, but few can claim it's light. Sadly, it looks like Hughie is doomed to humour him in his bid to steal some precious embers, but I hope it's over soon. I for one could do without seeing it, as it only reminds me of the time I was in there and had to drink a pig's penis.
Good old Natalie is still popping out of her holdings once in a while to taunt people, like some demonic Cuckoo Clock: "Fuck-yoo, fuck-yoo, fuck-yoo..." I think it'll be a while before she is knocked off her perch, and if it weren't for these futile bursts of activity she would quickly be branded 'boring'. As, I think, would Alex. He really does seem a very nice man, but anyone who fundamentally exists as a living statue is going to be beyond reproach. Sorry? What's that, Twitter? Andy is the boring one? The critical faculties of chins in chairs these days is lamentable. Oh, wait... Alex has a good body. My mistake.
If you had asked me at the start if Georgina would get involved in a TV romance, I would have said she was too clever, but at the time of writing this it seems very much on the cards with Jackson. If she is being opportunistic, however, thinking a romance is wise to keep her in the show, it'll be harder to invest in her, which is a shame. I like her grumpy, cynical ways. Her ability to be effected by external stimuli shows a sensitivity lacking in her companions. But it's fair to say, as someone guilty of forgetting this myself, Georgina does need to take a breath and extend some tolerance. Particularly to Andy. The laundry situation in that house is dire, yes, and the towel politics hopeless (it takes just one stolen towel, and within twenty-four hours you're not sure whose ass you're drying your face with) but if she learns to bend now, she will not break later.
In other news, somewhere between the obituaries and classifieds, monumental egomaniac Chelsea Singh continues to act out his Euro '96 bad boy Shit-Pop lad fantasy. He may have appointed himself as leader of the prats, but something suggests his time on the outside consists mainly of kettlebells and cod liver oil, before hoping back into the sarcophagus by nine. Has anyone's credibility ever been so inversely proportionate to their wealth?
Overall, I think it is a better 'show' than last year, because Big Brother as we knew it was very much in it's death throes then. It's tighter, slicker now, but for me not a preferable stand-in for the real thing, which we may never see again. The 'Others' theme for example isn't playing out well. To the viewer there could be nothing more than a beaded curtain separating the houses, let alone the personalities. I don't think there is enough tangible distinction between the majority of characters and environments to justify the narrative. I have found myself glazing over, staring at items in the bedroom, wondering if this lot have dedicated so much of their lives to beauty and hair products, that a weird osmosis has occurred whereby they are now mega thick and full of volume, whilst their shampoos and serums are empathetic and thoughtful. I would love to hear what Charlie's bronzer makes of this series.
The truth is, they don't give out taste and personality in Big Brother. You pick these things up in life, and you pay accordingly.
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