I’ve never written a review about a film or a television program. I’ve never really needed to, and I don’t know as much about films etc. as I do music, so it’s just never cropped up. However, last night was the first episode of the Junior Apprentice, and you know what? The younger they get the more repulsive they become.
Business entrepreneur, Sir Alan Sugar is the daddy behind this reality program in which the great commerce dealing individuals of this nation come head to head in a series of money making tasks. I was a regular viewer of The Apprentice when it first came out. Watching a collection of suit clad yuppies run around trying to flog barrels of dogs piss or a crate of pigs trotters makes for good viewing. The contestants persistently bicker behind one another’s back while reeling of cliché business terms to seem a lot more essential than they actually are. Relentlessly chattering over each other with their piercing voices fighting for centre stage, these stern-faced bull-shitters could start an argument with Helen Keller, but that’s what’s so entertaining! It’s not their ideas or lack of common sense that makes it good viewing, it’s the fact that these people are so self-absorbed with their own unjustified brilliance that they eventually combust into a whirlwind of useless ideas, squabbling ‘grown ups’ and sweat-stained Gucci suits.
Who doesn’t like conflict on television? That’s the whole appeal of reality tv, and that’s certainly why I watch it. But what makes the apprentice so engaging is that these people are no better than Big Brother contestants. They all end up in the same situation, fighting for centre stage while making an utter twat of themselves, but in brogues.
So with the first showing of the Young Apprentice I was dubious as to what age these business types start spewing out lines like ‘are we all reading from the same hymn sheet?’, and it turns out a lot younger than I thought.
Donning rather ghastly M&S junior suits and armed with a disjointed sense of entitlement, each one of these little cretins spouted out the same tosh as their adult comrades, bit in a higher voice. One little shit bag in particular, Jordan, frowned at the juvenile competition, claiming he was far superior than his GCSE taking rivalries only to be fired at the end of the show. Poor poor Jordan.
The rage that ensued within me hasn’t altered my perception or enjoyment of these reality tv programs, because I like to get cheesed off with these fame hungry cock-rags, it’s more of a reality check. These briefcase slingin’ young guns have already set their belligerent ethos in stone, and sure, a number of them have added rather fantastic achievements to their c.v before hair has hit their balls, but everything in moderation, yeah? You might even think that a finger pointing angry Jewish man might deter them from acting so big-headed, well I’m afraid not. Jordan still feels supercilious and still believes he should have emerged victorious, well Jordan, we live and we learn.
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