This is the polar opposite of the Great British Bake Off which was shown through the pleasant summer months. Now the cakes are stale and a chill wind creeps under the door: The Apprentice is back.
I don't want to believe that writers are involved in The Apprentice, feeding Lord Sugar his killer lines.
Neither do I want to believe writers are giving the candidates material. I want to believe that Lord Sugar's contempt for these people is so stark that his mind naturally shoots out exquisite poison, whilst the candidates are so stupid they don't need to be prompted to deliver idiocy.
So whilst I would always champion the role of the writer, this is one TV project where I pretend and pray they don't exist. If an overly-groomed, sheen-suited moron was told to prance around saying 'there's no I in team but there are five in individual brilliance!' then it's mildly funny, but if that's the kind of phrase he has individually concocted and chosen to live by, then it becomes appalling and makes you cringe - and that's why we watch The Apprentice.
In this tenth series we've been granted something special: this time there are 20 candidates - with Lord Sugar growling that he's 'looking for Redrum not some fairground donkey! - but the show will still be run over its usual span of weeks. This allows for the added thrill of multiple firings. The remaining pipsqueaks won't be able to drop their shoulder pads in relief after 'YOU'RE FIRED' has been delivered as he could turn and say, 'and so you are you! Gerroutovit!'
This initial episode was simply about hating and mocking and cringing. There was no point trying to learn the candidates' names at this stage, so you just refer to 'the one with the hair', 'the big blonde one', 'the wee Yorkshire one', and other far less flattering terms. These are not yet people, just freaks lining up to be ridiculed: a ragtag bunch of idiots and egos.
The show's editors surely encourage this cavalier attitude as no-one came out of this episode looking good, no-one was crafted as a decent person. Even deciding a name for their teams was absurd and painful to watch. The men opted for 'Summit' which, in Alan Sugar's merciless Cockney, will surely be belted out over the next few weeks in endless puns: 'you've got summat wrong wiv you!' etc.
The women's choice was even worse. For some reason - probably that they've heard the word on adverts for chocolate and fat-free yoghurts - they opted for 'Decadence'. Now, just how stupid must you be to choose a word representing decay for your business? They may as well have flicked their hair extensions over their shoulders and simpered,' Lord Sugar, we're calling our team Failed Business Venture.'
The women on this show never fail to horrify me. The ghastly mannequin who was the female Project Manager told her team that business acumen was all very well, but they should wear high heels and 'bring some nice make-up.'
Oh go to hell, you bimbo, with your utterly desolate mind and your overly coiffed hair! How I despised her for saying that. For some reason I always expect better behaviour from the women but, time after time, they prove themselves to be just as thick and boorish as the men. But then I tried to remember the show is edited, especially in these early weeks, to make us hate. It's not to be taken seriously, it's not a study of character, it's just to be relished.
Their task was simply to flog a load of rubbish at a market stall - hot dogs, T-shirts, lemons - and return with a bigger profit than the other team.
Insane mistakes were made, like forking out money to have T-shirts printed then not having the time to actually collect them from the printer; going off to cut a deal without taking any cash for the transaction or wasting money on fancy toppings for the hot dogs when all that was needed was a roll and a dod of mustard.
But some leadership was shown. One of the men cut through the squabbling to announce in thundering tones: 'I'm making a fundamental decision. We're going to the balloon shop!'
It's clear these buffoons are not hard-nosed businessmen, and it's never clearer than when they come face-to-face with real business owners, when they all go clucking and bellowing and swarming into a local restaurant to try and flog a bag of potatoes or a box of lemons. These little reminders are probably inserted by the editors to lower our blood pressure and cool our tempers: it's OK, these people are not to be taken seriously.
So don't take it seriously, just laugh and hate and watch it religiously every week as it's the best thing on TV just now.
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