Articles tagged with: BBC 3
Hecklerspray are a bunch of merry people who would never inflict any harm on you.
We’d do anything to help you out. Say you thought some Russian military types had tampered with your food; we’d be there to help you. Sure, we’d be putting our own life at risk as we gingerly slurped your tomato soup, but we love you and would never turn down your request.
However, there are some factors that we can’t control: famine, Bono, global warming and hay fever (oh dear God the hay fever). At first the problem is confined to one area, but it then slowly spreads around the world. Look at Bono - Ireland suffered for so long until he was unleashed to the world.
Now it's England’s turn to unleash one of their ropiest creations, this time on an unsuspecting America. Lily Allen has been granted a visa. Batten down the hatches, quick!
New BBC 3 show Lily Allen And Friends is in trouble. And not just due to the rubbish title - although surely a more accurate name would be Lily Allen And A Bunch Of Z-List Hangers-On Who'll Vanish As Soon As Her Fame Begins To Dwindle, Therefore Leaving Her With Nothing Better To Do Than Record An Embarrassing Christmas 2009 Novelty Record With Her Father.
The idea seemed like a rating winner at first. Get one of the most high profile pop stars of the moment to front an inane and unchallenging chatfest with some equally dim celebrity mates.
Then? Then came the studio recording, and the point at which things didn't so much go downhill as start tunnelling to the centre of the Earth like that weird drill-vehicle from The Core. And - after disappointing the live audience so much that a good percentage of them walked out - Lily has now seen this failure to engage reflected in the broadcast arena.
“I don't know what's sicker, animals having sex or you clapping.”
Only Lily Allen and her friends at the BBC could command such an exclamation from Cuba Gooding Jr. Her tasteless attempt at a new chat show can be best described as Heat magazine crossbred with a little Graham Norton-esque audience participation. It was actually painful to sit through Allen’s new vehicle, paper-cut painful.
The interaction with her audience seemed to be nothing more than a passing sentiment. A number of awkward exchanges with the Romford-fashion crowd ensued. Those lucky enough to have been picked out were rewarded with a place at the TFI Friday-style bar to be seldom seen again. The purpose of the bar escapes us, though it probably escapes the producers beyond its function as a holding pen for the banal.
