I wouldn't wish TOWIE Live on my worst enemy. Celebrity Wrestling. Keith Chegwin's Naked Jungle. Mark Wright's Hollywood Nights. Don't Scare The Hare. None of them even compared to the monstrous 50 minutes that ITV2 gave the nation last night.
Naked Jungle waved one ugly todger in our face. The Only Way Is Essex was full of them.
This was a new low, even for ITV2.
The cast and production team will no doubt protest that it was all for a good cause and that it raised plenty of cash. However, I'd wager anyone who suffered through last night's ordeal would rather give £50 out of their own pockets directly to people who need it next time.
In fact, the show could have worked as an anti-Comic Relief. Viewers could have been asked to club together to raise a million pounds, with the show going off air soon as the target was reached. Trust me, it would have been over before the first ad break.
The Only Way Is Essex is a curious concept at the best of times. Irritating, vain celeb-wannabes standing around babbling about their dull romances and private lives. However, with enough production trickery and vajazzle glitter, it is a just-about-excusable rubbish TV show.
For TOWIE Live they took away the editing team, forced the 'talent' to put on a variety show and glued it all together with awkward behind-the-scenes conversations where the cast have panic in their eyes and forget how to speak in actual intelligible English. And somebody commissioned this garbage. This TV turd can only possibly have been conceived on the back of a beer mat during the darkest of hours.
Trying to pick a single lowlight is impossible.
Rubber-faced Chloe Simms wiggling in some pink pants and squawking the lyrics to 'Barbie Girl'. Half-naked Arg. Joey Essex spending two minutes mumbling actual utter nonsense for the show's climax. Kirk Norcross gurning through 'Ain't That A Kick In The Head?' like a pissed-up tramp at a Glasgow bus station.
Five overly-tanned berks pogo-ing around a stage miming to One Direction. Wobbly acting and camera work that would have made performances on Crossroads look like Laurence Olivier.
That's not to forget Nanny Pat fluffing her lines, Arg and Lydia having a fake row with no microphones on (a blessing in disguise - perhaps the sound team took pity on us) and the shots of audience members (including A-list celebs such as Pat Sharp and, erm, Pat Sharp) with their heads in their hands and matchsticks holding up their eyelids.
You know the bit on Britain's Got Talent where they bring out a doddery farmer and his dancing pigs or when Ant & Dec mock a strange straggly-haired woman and her ballet dancing ferrets? TOWIE Live was like that for 50 minutes. Except the dancing pigs have more charisma.
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