What to say if you liked it
Ten bullocks from the proud pastures of celebrity come to fertilise the evening’s viewing with their intriguing and educational endeavours on a farm.
What to say if you didn’t like it
Ten ciphers who are more qualified to face a firing squad than be presented to the British public indulge themselves in ritual humiliation.
What was good about it?
• Colin and Justin are tolerable hosts. In fact, they do very little hosting, they merely service the sensitivities of the neurotic celebrities, whispering how beautiful or gorgeous they looked when nobody is anything of the sort. Their worst fawning was: “This is really shaping up to be something fantastic.” Before the introduction of Lionel Blair: “Eight is great, but nine is divine.” And to Charlene Tilton: “You could never, ever be ugly.”
• In their desperation to scrape up meagre details about the celebrities, Colin and Justin made some intentionally funny remarks about Emma Noble (“It’s also worth remembering, Emma is a trained hairdresser.”), Mikey Green of boyband Phixx (“How will you cope without instruments?”) and porn dwarf Ron Jeremy (“He has over 1,600 films to his credit.”)
• Lionel Blair, now 71, who looks like a creased curtain with eyes.
• Flavor Flav had the honour of being the only genuine celebrity at The Farm, but judging by the standard of his cohorts, buying him into the show must have eaten away about 75 per cent of the budget. The slightly bewildered rapper was also escorted to the Farmhouse by Colin or Justin like a virulent corpse on the way to the hospital incinerator.
• The way in which Keith Harris refused to remove his arm from Orville the Duck like a child with his security blanket.
• Flavor Flav asking Dave Morgan what he did – his British colleagues didn’t know who he was, either. “My ex-partner is a big soap star here in Britain,” the Public Enemy member was informed, at which point he turned around and his eyes were even wider than usual in astonishment at his predicament. (His ex-partner is Jessie Wallace. You know? The fat one in EastEnders. No, not Pat Butcher. The other one. Yes, the slapper. That’s right)
What was bad about it?
• The audience, who look like they been shipped in from Five’s offices to provide bland unquestioning adulation to all of the celebrities in much the same way as Robert Mugabe transplants his thugs around Zimbabwe to create unrest on farms that have not succumbed to his tyranny.
• The rapturous applause that greeted professional iniquity Emma Noble that sounded like a sample pilfered from the Beatles’ first trip to the US. Colin and Justin tried to make her sound more like a person than a dumb mannequin by mentioning she has borne children.
• Mikey Green from Phixx – one of the little waves lapping gently on Boy Band Island – who has the kind of grotesquely macho pseudo-Celtic tattoo on his shoulder that marks out tawdriness and desperation in the same way as missing fingers are emblematic of leprosy.
• Dave Morgan who, in a highly competitive field of anon-celebs, is perhaps the least famous person in the history of reality TV. Who next? The woman who screamed abuse at Wayne Rooney at the Everton v Man Utd FA Cup tie? The burly bloke who punched John Prescott at the last General Election? The man who sells muffins to Paul Gambaccinni?
• Charlene Tilton’s chin that wobbles around like a loose wheel on a car.
• Emma B who looks like an Action Man mutilated by a libidinous teenager through affixing lumpy, plastic breasts and inexpertly shoving on a blonde wig before extracting the doll’s soul.
• Ron Jeremy sliding down the farmyard path towards Colin and Justin like tar-sodden puke down a baby’s bib.
What on a farm do the farmhands most resemble?
Ron Jeremy – a barren jet of misdirected horse spunk.
Lionel Blair – the once virile sheepdog who nervously stares at the farmer each time he goes-a-hunting for rabbit, fearful that both barrels will soon be turned on his frail form.
Mikey Green – a half-burnt pyre of disposable plastic bottles ravers drank from the night before during their illegal party in the farmer’s sheep field.
Emma B – the grate where the farmer scrapes the mud from his boots.
Dave Morgan – the miasmic, though thankfully brief, stench of the carcasses of incinerating infirm cattle.
Emma Noble – the light, inconsequential smattering of excrement and mud that forever blights the farmyard.
Charlene Tilton – a rotting portable tree stump used by the elderly farmer to help him clamber over stiff gates.
Keith Harris and Orville – the slimy plastic dog-eared glove the farmer uses to see if his cattle are pregnant now he can’t afford the vet’s fees, or even a new glove.
Flavor Flav – the terrified scarecrow staked firmly in the field by a watertight contract as his dignity and credibility are greedily feasted upon by the ravens of self-publicity and crows of vanity.
Ciccoilina – a batch of unreliable Italian compost.