Showing posts with label One Born Every Minute. Show all posts
Showing posts with label One Born Every Minute. Show all posts

Thursday, 27 January 2011

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!

Tuesday, 11 January 2011

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.