James Nesbitt's Blazing Saddles

Gambling capital of the world, Las Vegas is used to strange sights. So a BBC film crew making a documentary about rodeo and the Miss Rodeo America contest probably didn’t faze the town at all. I can’t quite say the same.

There is so much quirky material that I found myself longing for the rapier wit of a Clive James or an Alan Whicker to exploit the situation. Even Louis Theroux would have been welcome.

These days however, TV producers have a penchant for selecting any currently en vogue celebrity, shoving them in front of the camera and hoping for the best. The successes of the likes of Palin and Connolly in this area are more than likely to blame. However successful they are in drama, actors don’t necessarily make the best presenters, especially when a bit of journalistic nouse is called for. For every Palin and Connolly there’s a Kemp or an Outhwaite.

Now I don’t want to seem too harsh on Cold Feet’s Jimmy Nesbitt here. He comes across as a perfectly nice bloke, slightly too nice in fact, with most of his witty asides not being too critical of what’s before him (although Miss Rodeo contestant Alison Munger who eventually comes second, would probably be put out to hear herself described as Alison Minger). The trouble is that whole set up is crying out to have the Mickey taken out of it.

The regime for the Miss Rodeo America competition is strict. The contestants are not allowed to drink, to smoke or to fornicate. Even mobile phones are off limits. The contestants come from across the USA but I was left with the impression they’d arrived in Vegas via Stepford.

Clones is the nicest word I think of to describe them. They wear more or less exactly the same clothes, although things have apparently improved from the days of ???flares and polyester???. Then there’s the hair. They all seem to have exactly the same “dodgy country western singer??? hair do, with so much hair spray you fear it may snap at any moment.

If the hair is brittle, the personalities aren’t. They are all “there for each other??? and all have mutual respect, with no bitchiness evident at all. It’s all so sweet, it may make you want to hurl. When one of the contestants says she’s wants World Peace, you just hope she’s being ironic. The only thing that would upset these clones would be if they had to go a day without make-up. From a distance, I defy you to tell the winner apart from her co-contestants.

The cowboys are different matter. These are hard and unfortunately for wee Jimmy, monosyllabic men. When you see these guys in action you’ll wonder how they don’t get injured, until of course they do. What a shame that our TV companies would rather give us wrestling than this true macho American Sport.

Appearing to be invincible is top rancher, Cody Ohl. However by the time he steps up to receive his trophy, even he is on crutches. We also meet Pistol Pete Hawkins, who when faced with the probing question, “How you doing???? responds with the insightful “I’m doing OK.???


There’s something fascinating about this world, but Jimmy, pleasant as his is, never really gets under the skin of it.

Perhaps next time the Beeb will send a journalist. I’m living on a different planet aren’t I? They’ll probably send the winner of next year’s Pop Idol.


You can catch James Nesbitt’s Blazing Saddles on Friday 17th May at 10.30pm on BBC Choice.

Rating 7 out of 10