http://www.thecourier.co.uk/lifestyle
Pressure
Pad: Monday to Friday, BBC1
Fresh
Meat: Monday, Channel 4
Whether crooning Colgate covers of
West End standards or flashing his derrière at any stolen
opportunity, John Barrowman is a man for whom the word
“irrepressible” is merely a springboard to hitherto uncharted
levels of alarming buoyancy.
I understand why he annoys people,
but in my own personal catalogue of borderline irritating TV
personalities he rests firmly in the 'Harmless' section. He's a
natural, capable host, as evinced by his stewardship of new daytime
quiz show Pressure Pad. Granted, within the first ten minutes
of Monday's episode he'd already slipped back into his Glasgow accent
for a cheap laugh, a crime so heinous it should result in instant
extradition from the motherland. I'm looking at you too, Lulu.
Otherwise, this American-twanged
light entertainment Braveheart unleashed his practised arsenal of
lame jokes, cheeky chit-chat and a laugh like a balloon-loaded
machine gun, as he gently prodded two teams towards a cash prize of
£3,000.
Presented from within a purple/blue
set, like a bruised nightclub, it's a basic general knowledge quiz in
which contestants compete via the titular pressure pad, I.e. a
circular glass stage upon which various rounds and multiple choices
appear. A ticking clock adds an element of mild peril, but that's
about it.
While it will never challenge
Pointless as the wryly addictive king of daytime quizzes, it's
a perfectly adequate distraction of a weekday afternoon. But its hook
just isn't strong enough to make it stand out from the throng. No
matter how many times Barrowman urgently refers to the pressure pad
as if it's some sort of fiendish gimmick, even he can't disguise the
fact that it's just some people answering pub quiz questions while
scampering across a podium.
Plus, the distorted robot voice which
announces each round just reminds you that you're not watching The
Cube. That's right, Pressure Pad isn't as thrilling or
inventive as mind-blowing Schofield fantasia The Cube.
Incidentally, one of the categories
in the very first round was Doctor Who, while later a winning
answer was actor/comedian and noted Doctor Who scribe Mark
Gatiss. Is Barrowman compiling the questions himself? Also, he really
needs to work on his catchphrase. “If you can't take the pressure,
stay off the pressure pad!” Really, man, is that the best you can
do?
So where to now for the enjoyable, if
inconsistent, Fresh Meat? This comedy-drama about a misfit
gang of house-sharing students returned last week for a third series
of coming-of-age awkwardness. No longer freshers, the house-mates may
be in their second year of university, but their experience so far
seems to have done little to abate their insecurities. So much for
character development.
Episode one was very much business as
usual, as blundering posh buffoon JP (comedian Jack Whitehall,
perfectly cast) continued his fruitless search for “hotties” via
invitations to his dry slope skiing club – in reality a freezing
hot tub in the back garden – while Kingsley and Josie resumed their
on-off relationship. Although realistically handled, this latter
plot strand constantly threatens to capsize Fresh Meat at any
moment: as with Ross and Rachel in Friends, there's only so much
mileage one can eke from this set-up before viewers grow impatient.
Nevertheless, it's still funny,
well-observed, nicely performed – especially by Whitehall and Zawe
Ashton as dissolute rebel Vod - and full of sharp lines (none of
which I can quote in a family newspaper). For anyone who ever grew
painfully – isn't that all of us? - then Fresh Meat
continues to resonate.
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