Monday, 11 July 2011

Pass the cyanide.

I'd like to be able to follow my own advice and not consume (see post below) but Mrs. Wolfers watches it religiously. I entertain myself in other ways, flying sorties over the blogosphere or reading a book, walking the real snowolf, doing the washing up, whatever.

I'm not even sure why she watches it, she doesn't seem to enjoy it.

What am I talking about?


I've never enjoyed it. I'm not a lover of soap operas at all, but Eastenders takes the biscuit. Corrie is bearable, there is at least some comic relief, and from what I've seen the stories aren't as far fetched, and the actors, in my opinion, are better. Emmerdale used to be on the menu as well, but for reasons unknown to me has fallen off. The two Aussie ones I am spared, however the English equivalent, the truly toe-curlingly awful Hollyoaks does make an appearance on the occasional Sunday morning - it seems to go on for about 4 hours, and it is utter, utter tripe. I am assured by some that the girls are well fit, however when I do see it, all I see is a parade of young ladies who look identical and are all totally without bosom or behind. I'll have a proper woman with a proper figure please.

Anyhow, back to Eastenders. Before getting too earnest, can anyone explain to me how the pub is always packed to the gunwhales, unless there is something going on down the club, which, I hasten to add is the quietest nightclub in history? Nobody owns a car or a washing machine, and despite the presence of a tube station, will normally take a cab 'up west'. Nobody works outside the environs of the square - not one person commutes into town for work, and despite these low wage jobs, they can all afford to run these enormous, seemingly 8 bedroom, late Victorian town houses. Perhaps this accounts for the lack of washing machines and cars? Despite this low level of vehicle ownership, 'Phil' can make a living running a small backstreet grease pit, and can seemingly buy any business he wants, just like that.

It's all a bit odd.

What really does bug me about this programme though is the fact that no-one, not one character is permitted even a moment's fleeting joy or happiness. Any good news is almost immediately followed up with a personal or communal disaster. I appreciate that this is a dramatic construct, but it just seems to go on with unrelenting misery, for everyone. Perpetually. It is soul destroying stuff.

Further to that, I believe that the show puts out a very bad message. Nobody shows any aspiration beyond working on a fruit stall or loading and unloading washing machines and tumble dryers. Kids that do well at school and go off to university seem to be socially awkward or incompetent in some regard, or will return to the square a few weeks in to their first term having failed to cope with the demands placed upon them.

People are bad with money, forever tapping up the same old people for a loan, loans which are normally given with humiliating strings attached. Indeed anyone who does have money or is a success tends to be a criminal or morally objectionable in some other fashion.

The message to me is clear; You'll never amount to anything, so why even try? Everyone who has money, drive or ambition is a crook, conman or an arsehole, and you don't want to be like them. Just stick to what you know and make do with what you've been given.

It is a hateful, despicable programme, and quite why anyone watches it is beyond me.

I'm not suggesting it be banned, that just isn't my style, but I hold Eastenders up as a prime exhibit as to why the licence fee should be scrapped.


Richard said...

Good post, and I agree completely. My Dad refused to watch it. "Why should I waste my time watching a load of Cockneys be miserable?"

Angry Exile said...

Completely agree, and Richard's dad nailed it exactly. On the list of things I'd sit through given a choice Eastenders comes at the bottom of all the soaps and above being waterboarded.

Anonymous said...

It's banned in our house as well. Slightly off topic but whilst we're looking at inconsistences, take a look Coronation Street's Rovers return. If it is on the end of a row of terraces, wouldn't walking through the loo doors see you ending up in next doors house? Also on the other side how exactly has the kitchen and the lounge managed to get squeezed into that small gap behind the dartboard because it certainly can't go any further.