The NTAs? Pft.

So lads and lassies, the awards season is once again upon us with Ant and Dec picking up gongs in every awards show (did you see they were nominated for Best Geordie Duo Who've Seen Films this year in the Oscars? True fact). Last week it was the National Television Awards, an evening of pure daft decisions and undeserving winners (yeah, okay, so next year I'll vote). Clearly I have my own ideas of who should win what, that's why this year I've decided to create my own awards. So, ladies and gentlemen, without further a-do, I give you The Suzies!

*Rapturous applause, whoops and wolf whistles*

Ah, you're too kind! The first category to be awarded is, Best Show About Life and the winner is.... da da-da da da da da DA! One Born Every Minute. You've heard me harp on about how much I love it already, the lovely old-school midwives, the biscuit-munching-no-nonsense-receptionist, the labouring women, the helpless partners and the miscellaneous tag-alongs. The programme has heart and a sense of distance that makes it less obtrusive than other documentaries. The new series is shaping up to be just as good, introducing us to such gems as the unusual first-time dad Ralph. Much much more of the same please, Channel 4!

On now to the award for Proper Best Soap and in their monumental 50th year the winner is Corrie! Yes, CORRIE! Amazingly, Eastenders managed to take the award at the NTAs; voting public, what were you thinking?! Apart from anything else, when comparing the live episodes, Corrie wins hands-down. The acting was flawless (Fizz's over-egged labour aside) and there were no fluffed lines that I could see, unlike Easties, where Jack Branning stumbled over his words like an overly nervous 13 year old in a high school production of Oliver! The effects were a million times better, no unconvincing falls here, but fire and explosions and collapsing buildings all timed perfectly and realistically executed. Yeah, there was no big reveal like Easties' 'Who killed Archie story line?' (it was Stacey, remember? I'd forgotten too because we found out and then ball-all happened) but it was so packed with dramatic moments and who's-gonna-die? teasers that it didn't matter. RITA'S NOT IN TOWN! SHE BURIED UNDER THE PENNY SWEETS!!!! And another thing, Corrie's comedy is brilliant, sharp, well written and believable. Eastie's doesn't do believable comedy well; it's clumsy, embarrassing and NOT FUNNY. Corrie has Graham and Easties has Fat Boy. 'Nuff said.

Our third award of the evening is for Best Business-Person Programme and, quite predictibally, this award goes to the Apprentice. Oh, it was good. It was really fucking good. It brought us bizarre characters form the land of business who bickered/huffed/crashed/bullied/ambled/bullshitted their way through a series of ridiculous tasks. Who could forget the monumentally pointless DVD task? 'Would you like a DVD of yourself arsing about in front of a blue screen for a couple of minutes?' Answer, 'No.' Fair enough. Or what about the Bakery task? 'We know you asked for a thousand rolls, but we made you eighteen, would that do you?' Answer, 'No.' Understandable. But surely the King of tasks this series was the Tour Guide task. 'Would you like to join me in a lack-luster chorus of 'Knees up Mother Brown?'' Answer, *SILENCE*. 'And it's known as the gherkin because it's shaped like a gherkin.' Thanks for clearing that mystery up for me Jamie, I had always wondered...

This brings me on rather neatly to the Suzie for He/She is Something Else. Of course the winner is Stuart Baggs 'the Brand'. I could justify this category by simply listing but a few of his astonishing quotes so I will.
'Everything I touch turns to sold.'
'Das is wunderbar!'
'Why not? I'm alive. There's so many people that aren't alive, or have died unfortunately, now I'm alive and that's a gift frankly.'
'I need to reign in my extreme masculinity.'
'I'm not a one trick pony, I'm not a ten trick pony, I've got a field of ponies waiting to run towards this.'
'How good are we, that even when we’re shit, we still win?'
Etc. Etc. Just wow.

Up next is the Don't call it a Comeback award which goes to Doctor Who. After the departure of Russell T. Davis as executive producer, who took with him a number of well-loved characters and put them to bed, Steven Moffat stepped in to fill his shoes. No one was worried by this transition, after all, Moffat had previously written some of the best Doctor Who episodes, including 'Forest of the Dead/Silence in the Library', 'the Doctor Dances' and the terrifying 'Blink'. So rather than being anxious, I was excited to see where Moffat would take the Doctor and how his new companion, Amy Pond, would fit into the Doctor's world. The writing was genius, with excellent inventions such as the 'very old and very kind' Star Whale, the return of the Weeping Angels and the popping up of historical figures like Winston Churchill and Vincent Vangough. Sci-fi, it may be but Doctor Who as always covers universal themes of love, loyalty, power, despair and so on with incredible pathos and heart while still maintaining a joyous sense of adventure and of humour. Matt Smith and Karen Gillan are an excellent team and the next series should prove interesting as it sees the Doctor travelling with a married couple. I literally cannot wait, but I'm not sure what can top a flying shark, let's find out.

The final award of the evening is the Suzie for The Barriest Thing on Telly This Year. And the award goes to *drum roll* Sherlock. I fucking love Sherlock. Steven Moffat and Mark Gattis team up to create an updated version of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's maticulous 19th century detective. The Sherlock of the 21st century is brilliantly re-imagined as a highly functioning sociopath played by Benedict Cumberbatch, who is is pitch perfect and strangely attractive in the role. Martin Freeman plays his assistant Doctor John Watson, an injured military man adjusting to life as a civilian. Sherlock and John have an intreaguing relationship; they are reluctantly fond of each other until the finale of the three episodes when Sherlock reveals his hand when the two are faced with the mysterious villain Moriarti (who is just AWESOME). I won't reveal the plot for those who haven't seen it (have a word with yourselves) but the end of series cliff-hanger is so gripping that every time I think of it I get proper knots in my stomach, now writing this, I feel sick. I've had to come up with a method to block out the palpable terror that bubbles up in my gut: Oh, it's Flight of the Conchords singing a song they wrote for me called 'New Pens', while I draw spirals with the new pens and oh look, here come some puppies to climb on me and lick my face....

Further awards go to Peep Show for Most LOL's Per Minute, Big Brother gets the Cheerio! award and Charlie Brooker gets the Clever Trevor award for Newswipe, Screenwipe and You Have Been Watching.

So, thanks to everyone for coming out to the inaugural Suzies award show. Until next year, keep 'em square (your eyes, I mean. Catchy eh?). Cho!

Glee: 'It's Britney, bitch.'

I dipped in and out of the first series of Glee, in to watch the performances, out when anyone, except Sue Sylvester, spoke. The story lines were a seemed samey; oh will Finn and Rachel get together? Will Emma and Mr. Shu get together? Will Puck and Quinn get together? Yawn, yawn, YAWN. Jane Lynch is, of course, excellent as acid tongued Cheerios coach, Sue Sylvester but the show loses it's dry wit when sappy sentiment seeps through to the surface. However, as the themed episodes are usually the best and certainly the most anticipated, I thought I'd give Britney week a go. And, it. Was. Awesome.

A dose of nitrous oxide from the school dentist provides the perfect vehicle for the Glee kids to re-enact Britney videos, beginning with the aptly named, Britney performing 'Slave for You' better than actual Britney. She also gets some of the best lines of the week, for example:

Looking around the dental surgery: 'This looks like the room on that spaceship where I got probed.'
About Jacob's hair: 'It looks like a Jewish cloud.'
And the line they ALL wanted to say: 'It's Britney, bitch.'

Brilliant. I forgot how good Glee-Britney was so I've made a revision, I only want the singing and dancing with Sue and Glee-Britney talking in between. Got it? Got it.

'Toxic' ending in the 'Britney Spears sex riot' was another highlight, as was Artie singing 'Stronger' with Football team as his backing dancers. Britney Spears herself makes a few cameos, popping up here and there looking a-maz-ing. Good hair.

As for the central relationship between Rachel and Finn, NEXT! Are they on? Are they off? Are they right for each other? Are they boring me? Yes. Sure, I knew couples like that at my High School and they bored me too. Please try and hash out your relationship when no one's looking, thanks. Back to what I was saying before about the worst parts of the show being the achingly sincere performances or monologues, case and point is the ending to this weeks Glee when Rachel sings that song dedicated to her boyfriend and cries without actually wavering on any notes. Eugh. Couldn't they have ended on Kurt singing a version of 'Womaniser' to Finn? Glee should always go out dancing.

Anyway, despite being annoyed by some aspects of the show and it's characters, I do feel I may have judged Glee too harshly and am prepared to eat humble pie while watching the second series. Expecting amazing story lines along with brilliant musical numbers every week is unrealistic and not why most people watch Glee. I just can't help myself, it's addictive. I've got the GLEEver, I'm GLEE-sick (sorry).

WTF?! They're DANCING on ICE!

This will not be a popular opinion but whatever haters, I think Dancing On Ice is better than Strictly. Just saying. And I'll tell you for why, it's DANCING on ICE. When people are dancing on a floor and doing a good job, I'm impressed. But when people are dancing on BLADES on ICE and doing a good job, I'm thinking 'Holy shit! That is amazing! How are they doing that?!!' It's also massively more dangerous and therefore more nail-bitingly exciting when they pull moves like the head-banger out of their locker. Yeah, beat that possible brain-damage, Strictly! Pip and Holly are pretty standard presenters but at least they don't make my toes curl so much that they're half way up my back, like Old Brucie. CRINGE. Another unpopular opinion I'm sure, but he's not funny. 'Oh but Suzanne, don't you think he's funny in a he's-so-not-funny-it-makes-him-kind-of-funny way?' Nope. Just not funny. I feel I've now justified my love for Dancing on Ice over Strictly, so what's happening this year?

In two two-hour long extravaganzas the contestants (the blanket term celebrity isn't appropriate here) have been whittled down from sixteen to twelve. A baffling exercise, I feel. Why couldn't they have just asked twelve in the first place instead of these nonsensical pre-shows?: 'Even though you've rehearsed for weeks like in the real competition and danced on telly this week like in the the real competition and the public have voted like in the real competition, the real competition hasn't begun yet.' Right... Well anyway, we have our final twelve contestants and they include, a war hero, Richard and Judy's daughter, a Loose Woman, a washed-up rapper, a sports guy (not sure which sport, they all look the same to me. I'm a sportist), some Katona woman, a pretty boy what used to be in Eastenders and Ashley off Corrie (it's OK folks, he's not dead he's just ON ICE. THANK GOD). Pretty standard line-up it seems.

Stand-out dancer so far for me is Leon what used to be in Eastenders but isn't any more because it turns out he IS just a pretty face. Now, however, it seems he can dance ON ICE as well so I'll look forward to his weekly routines and maybe we might find a personality in there somewhere too. We can but hope. I'm also happy to see Ashley off Corrie dancing ON ICE, like Mark off Eastenders before him, rather tentatively and a bit wobbly but give him a break, he is ON ICE.

The judges, as per usual, consist of one panto villain, a previous winner from Yawnsville, Whogivesashit and professional guy who technically knows what he's talking about but fails to deliver his verdict with any charisma. But I'm not watching for the judges, I'm watching for the skating and the dancing and Torville and Dean performing like they're still twenty and the trips and the tumbles and the costumes and the sexy professional skaters and the heart-stopping possibility of a serious injury (by that I don't mean I want to actually see a serious injury, just the idea that it's possible and the consequent bravery of the contestants for doing it anyway). Right, who's first up for the head banger then? Bring on the icy terror!!!

Michel Roux's Service: 'I don't smell grapes or oak or nuffink. I just smell alcohol.'

I always thought waiting was bloody hard work. I've had a few waiting jobs in my time and I'm not fond of it. Here are just some of the things I dislike about it: I can't hold the plates correctly, I have clumsily dropped trays full of drinks, I am rubbish at wines, restaurant customers can be so rude and mainly, I just don't care. Herein lies the difference between myself and the students in Michel Roux's Service. A group of 8 young folks have been selected to take part in a training programme which will allow two of them to win a scholarship to the Academy of Food and Wine. 'Eh, what was that Suzanne? There's an academy that teaches you to waiter?' Well, according to Michel there is. 'A school for putting plates down and writing 'lasagna' on a note pad?' Apparently so. I mean, I've done the serving bit and the eating in restaurants bit and let me tell you, for all my failings, I got pretty decent tips. And it was all because I was pleasant to the customers, they like that you know. And that's all I'm bothered about when I go to a restaurant, after all everyone makes mistakes and as long as they apologise and sort it out in a nice manner then I'm no fussed.

The saving grace of this programme seems to be Michel Roux's ability to build the students self-confidence by, yes, you guessed it, BEING NICE. Take note Ramsey. Here is a decent, successful guy that these kids aren't intimidated by. When he catches them all messing about when they're supposed to be learning their menus for service, he talks to them reasonably and they get on with it. No one needs to be upset, you'd never get anything done if you go about upsetting people. A life lesson for us all - don't be a dick.

Roux's students do have something going for them, personality. They're not the Michelin star cookie-cutter waiting staff who place plates in front of diners and slip away like 'ghosts'. Nikkita, for instance, blows apart the pretence of wine-snobbery when smelling the wines, 'I don't smell grapes or oak or nuffink. I just smell alcohol.' I like this girl. The students might not be able to pronounce 'prosecco' or open a bottle of wine correctly but they have a laugh about it and don't take it so seriously; after all, it's only dinner.

One Born Every Minute: 'You made that.'

I love babies. I'm a mass of hormones and a gooey mess every time I see a baby, more so if it's a newborn. What a privilege it is to be able to experience the arrival of these little bundles with their families as we do in 'One Born Every Minute' which was back on Channel 4 for a new series last night. The unobtrusive manner of the static camera's give OBEM a realism and sensitivity rarely scene in other fly on the wall docs.

First up iss 18 year old Janet who has come in to be induced along with her mother, Mandy and her rather unusual baby-daddy, Ralph (he's reading Tiberius). An eccentric but well meaning young man, Ralph has lucked out with the lovely Janet, who, for a first-timer, handles the labour remarkably well. She also has some brilliant quotes, like this one, 'Babies have that new baby smell, like a new car but not the same. Like little rabbits.' And this one, 'I just want to get this over with so I can put my pants back on.' And that's before the gas and air. This one is wise.

Meanwhile, our second lady in labour is Stephanie who is flipping out Exorcist style in another room. Shit, she is loud. Is she having Rosemary's baby? From her own room Janet hears her screams. Rather sweetly but unconvincingly, Ralph tries to reassure her that it's probably just a creaking door. Well whatever it is it's making me turn the sound down, distressing is not the word. Give the woman an epidural! Fucking NOW! Phew. She likes the epidural. So do my ears. And then pop (well, maybe not quite). There he is, all tiny and slimy, blinking like a dazed little alien who's just crash-landed. I'm shocked by how overwhelmed I become with emotion. It is amazing.

Back to Janet and after an age of waiting and some contraction inducing 'jungle juice' there's still nothing. A cheesed off Janet is working her way through a puzzle book and Ralph's nearly finished Tiberius (probably). He talks of his hope for his son, how he wants him to learn and be interested in things and be proud to be different if turns out like his mum and dad. Ralph will clearly be a fantastic dad. Things take a turn for the terrifying when Janet has to be rushed for an emergency delivery. Because she's just a young 'un, she understandably wants her mum with her so poor old soul Ralph has to wait outside until his son is born. We're all with you Ralph! I feel ill for him. And then it's over; another new life arrives. Baby Callum. When Ralph meets his son for the first time it is just an incredible moment and I am sobbing uncontrollably. A truly beautiful start to the series.

The real heart of the show are the self-confessed old-school midwives, Kay and Barbara. You see what kind of ladies these are when Kay is having trouble moving a cot: 'Oh botheration' is her response. Barbara quotes Florence Nightingale when describing her bedside manner, 'Every patient in this house should be treated as an honoured guest.' I hope if I have babies my midwife will be of this ilk, offering me a cup of tea and a slice of battenberg when I'm in the deepest throws of labour. Every woman and their labour is different and that is why I could never tire of OBEM. It's just pure life.

Top Five Festive Telly

Happy New Year all! I'm back after spending time with the family playing the Wii what Santa brought us, eating lovely food, inexplicably unavailable the rest of the year round, drinking a vat of wine every day and losing yet another game of Trivial Pursuit because the questions are twenty bloody years old! Anyway, as this most festive season draws to a close and we take down the our trees and begin the half-arsed diet and fitness regimes, let's reminisce on what telly had to offer us this Christmas and New Year.

5.Whistle and I'll come to you
Another adaptation of the classic M.R. James ghost story was screened this Christmas Eve on BBC2 with John Hurt in the lead role. The story has been tinkered with and given an interesting new angle as Hurt's character has just made the difficult move to put his wife, who is suffering from dementia, in a home. This new version plays on the idea of being haunted by guilt and sorrow at having lost the woman he once knew. As well as being surprisingly poignant it was also bloody terrifying. The shrouded figure, never moving but drawing ever closer is terrifying and that bust in the hotel room is by the far the creepiest thing I ever did see. It's a true testament to the original story that the most chilling aspect of all is still the phrase, 'Who is this who is coming.' It never fails to send shivers down the spine.

4.Upstairs, Downstairs
When the original Upstairs, Downstairs aired in the early 70s I didn't even exist so I entered the viewing experience with completely fresh eyes. Jean Marsh returns to 165 Eaton Place as housekeeper, Rose Buck, with a fantastic cast of new characters. It's pre WWII, the power of the aristocracy is dwindling and the King has abdicated to marry his fancy American piece, Wallis Simpson. Yes sirree, the times they are a-changin'. There's a lot going on in 165 Eaton Place: fascists, German-Jewish refugees, flirting under doors, deaths, births, drivers having it away with the lady of the house, Cecil Beaton taking photos, footmen dismissed cos they're a bit mental, missing pies, secret sisters, mute children and a monkey. The styling was beautiful, the accents were clipped and proper, the kind found only on Giles Brandreth today. Special mention goes to Eileen Atkins, who gives a fantastic performance as the formidable Lady Maud Holland, delivering wonderfully written lines such as, 'I told Agnes to vomit in her handbag, but she refused on the grounds that it was suede lined.' Also, the Christmas tree in the final scene was so beautiful it made me cry.

3.Father Ted Night
It's a brand new year but you wish it was over already because the mariachis band parading around your head are painfully out of tune and they have invited a troupe of tap dancers to join in. OUCH. So all you can do is sit on the couch and see if anything on the telly can drown them out. This year, Channel 4 put on a night dedicated to Father Ted and it was just what the doctor ordered. First of all, I LOVE Father Ted. It reminds me of being young and quoting it endlessly with my brother (after going to mass with my Dad, 'Great, mass!'). Writers Arthur Matthews and Graham Linehan reveal their influences, favourite moments and episodes. Viewer's pick their favourite episode too, 'Speed 3' (also one of my faves, Pat Mustard is a wonderfully disturbing creation) Some of the cast get together and go back to Craggy Island's parochial house, which is now a Mecca for Ted fans. Also the evening gave us a chance to reflect on the driving force of the show, Dermot Morgan. A brilliantly funny actor who is still sorely missed. Without him Ted wouldn't be Ted. So hats off to Mr. Matthews and Mr. Linehan for casting him in the lead role. Imagine a world without Father Ted? Nope. Can't do it.

2.Peep Show
The Christmas Eve and Hogmanay episodes of Peep Show rounded off series seven, providing LOL after LOL until I cried. Christmas was particularly special as the El Dude brothers battle through a hugely awkward and cringe-tastic day with Mark's parents, Super Hans and Dobby. Mark is stressed out by the whole affair, 'Merry migraine and Happy New stomach ulcer.' Jeremy's unquenchable Christmas spirit was an eye-opener as a few friends pointed out, 'that's you, that is.' And it was. I consider myself to be the spirit of the festive season and woe betide you who rock my Christmas boat. As Jez says when he turns down sex with Mark's sister in the name of Father Christmas, 'Of course I don't believe in Jesus but I do believe in Christmas. I'm a Christmasist.' Mark's dad is the Grinch to Jez's Tiny Tim, snide, sexist and homophobic but he gets his comeuppance when Mark shreds his Christmas dinner, 'Merry Christ-Mark!' Yeah!

1.Doctor Who: A Christmas Carol
Doctor. Fucking. Who. No one speak! It's Doctor. Fucking. Who. One whole hour of blissful geeking out in a very Christmassy way. Stephen Moffat's fantastically Whoed-up Christmas Carol sees the Doctor having to save the lives of Amy, Rory and everyone else on a ship about to crash. Michael Gambon plays the superbly named Kazran Sardick, who could save all their lives but he's bit of an old Scrooge (hoho). The Doctor has to change his mind and so uses the tools he has, namely a big ol' blue time machine, to go back into Kazran's past and change his memories. The writing is so perfect, as it glides along smoothly through the clever twists and turns and there's a flying shark. A FLYING SHARK. Yes, I know, it is the coolest thing ever. Katherine Jenkins does a turn as Kazran's love interest, whom he and the Doctor defrost every Christmas Eve and take her on various jaunts and japes. She even gets to do a song at the end, which is nice. Sitting on the sofa, full of turkey and bread sauce, it was exactly the right tone and pace for early Christmas Day evening. With the teasers for the new series shown straight after the Christmas special, I genuinely cannot wait. Sublime. More of the same please, Mr. Moffat!