WE are starting a weekly column where you can review – favourably or otherwise – programmes that you have seen on TV. We kick off with Alan Ashworth, but from now on it’s over to you.
Masterchef – a recipe for shouting at the screen
Alan Ashworth writes: Every time the missus and I watch Masterchef, we wonder why we put ourselves through it. The appalling Gregg Wallace gurning for all he’s worth while his partner in crime John Torode assaults the English language. Why does no one point out to him that ‘making this dish for Gregg and I’ is grammatically unsound? Is he above criticism?
For a while the show was almost bearable, with a reasonable focus on the cooking, but they must have put a child in charge for the latest series. It scales new heights of infantilism with Wallace and Gromit urging contestants to compete for a ‘coveted Masterchef apron’. The amateur chefs go along with the charade that life wouldn’t be worth living without one. Asked the inevitable question ‘How do you feel about winning one of our aprons?’ they dutifully reply: ‘It would mean the world to me.’ Oh for a brave soul who’d respond: ‘Not a lot. It’s only a pinny, after all. You can get replicas on eBay.’ It’s all like something off children’s TV circa 1964. Crackerjack pencils, anyone?
In fact the contestants are never asked anything except ‘How do you feel?’ About getting into Masterchef, about getting through the first round, about getting into the quarter-final, about wearing one of the blasted aprons . . .
How much longer will Gregg be paid to pull faces while John mauls phrases? With any luck, the ever more woke BBC will realise that one of its flagship programmes is presented by a pair of extremely stale white males.
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