[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.And a particularly hairless one at that.Apart from Staring Nodding Man, what else does Ultimate Force have to offer?Bloodshed.Taking their cue from the recent trend for graphically violent combat in films like Saving Private Ryan and Black Hawk Down, the special-effects team has raised the splatter quotient well above the televisual norm.Hence a shoot-out in a suburban bank ends up resembling something out of Dawn of the Dead, with shot-off bits of scalp dangling from the lampshades and flambéed kidneys squelching underfoot.But while the aforementioned movies all used shocking gore to hammer home the sheer hideousness of violence, Ultimate Force simply uses it to titillate, in the manner of a 1980s video nasty.Regular readers will know I’ve got nothing against that, but I do think if you’re going to dish up gore for gore’s sake, you might as well go the whole nine yards and make it absurdly, unrealistically gory.Since Ultimate Force doesn’t seem to convey any message besides ‘The SAS are hard’, let’s see them ripping the bad guys’ ribcages out with claw hammers, please.Needless to say, despite all my griping, I rather enjoyed it.It’s got a camp appeal, like Footballers’ Wives for sociopaths.The trailers say it all: action is back on ITV! Wahey!Reality Jokers [28 September]Today, fame is power and everyone wants to be a celebrity.It’s become as ubiquitous a human requirement as the need for air, water and a decent pair of socks, which is why the world is full of bewildered people doing misguided and humiliating things in a bid for fame.Things that would make you or me curl up and wither to a desiccated husk of embarrassment, like singing Bodyform jingles, or having sex with geese on the Internet, or performing onstage with the Stereophonics.Pathetic sights, the lot of them, but none is as truly heartrending as the sight of a Reality Joker basking in his moment of glory.A what?A Reality Joker – it’s a new phrase I’ve just coined, which refers to the type of person who turns up at the auditions for programmes like Model Behaviour (C4), knowing full well that a) they don’t stand a serious chance, and also b) the production team won’t be able to resist plastering their mugs all over the screen for a few moments, so we can all have a good laugh at their expense.Hence the judges in Model Behaviour – a programme designed to pick out tomorrow’s male and female supermodels – occasionally find themselves stifling smirks in front of some chubzoid clown (generally a fat moron named Barry, or something similarly Woolworths) who comically insists he’s got the making of a cover star.Blimey! He’s bonkers! Barry is bonkers! Of course he won’t be chosen – he’s obese and disgusting! Har har har!The judges are happy, because they look like good sports, the production team are happy because they’ve got a few more easy moments of sneersome air time under their belts, but most of all Barry’s happy because his mates will see him on the telly and roll around guffawing at how downright daffy BONKERS!!!! he is.Well, hooray hooray.Enjoy your 1.5 nanoseconds of fame, Barry – then shove off back to Doncaster so we can concentrate on the meat of the programme: encouraging teenagers nationwide to work on their eating disorders.This second series of Model Behaviour has clearly been taking notes – or more accurately photocopying instructions – from Popstars (a show which has not one, but two Reality Jokers, in the form of the ‘touch my bum’ girls).As a result, it seeks to pressurise and degrade its participants at every turn – ’cos that’s good telly, innit? Jettisoned wannabes aren’t just gently informed that they’re no longer required – no.Despite already having been picked from the line-up and ordered to parade around in skimpy underwear for our titillation, they haven’t been puppeteered enough.So they’re separated into groups.You, you and you – stand on the pink carpet.The rest of you, stand on the blue.Drum roll, please.Let the maximum tension build – we want to see anguished looks on faces, please.OK.Now then.Pink carpet.Congratulations, you’re through to the next round.The rest of you: your dream is over.Go on, shoo.And try to cry into the lens on your way out.Still, there’s a case for arguing that the spoilt little yelpers who turn up to undergo this sort of humiliation deserve everything they get [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

zanotowane.pl

doc.pisz.pl

pdf.pisz.pl

listy-do-eda.opx.pl