Geordie Shore

The Weekend Australian - Review - - Television -

Tues­day, 9.30pm, 11 Af­ter roughly six years of re­view­ing tele­vi­sion, I fi­nally got re­al­ity TV sta­ple The Only Way is Es­sex re­cently when I be­gan to see it as the Es­sex ver­sion of Kath & Kim. So I thought I’d lift the bone-crush­ing weight of my judg­ment on Geordie Shore to make sure I hadn’t made the same mis­take. It’s roughly the same scripted re­al­ity thing ex­cept it’s all boys with mus­cles, girls with fake boobs, and absolutely ev­ery­body with a spray tan. Well, they do live in New­cas­tle, Eng­land, so of course they all want to look like sun-blasted Los An­ge­les mod­els. ‘‘ Me main goal is to bang a bird,’’ says so­phis­ti­cated love-rat James. Jay is a far more com­pli­cated fel­low. ‘‘ My big­gest fear is get­tin’ wrin­kles,’’ he groans. The rest is all scrag fights and pro­fan­ity, snog­ging and grop­ing, be­trayal and re­venge, mates whin­ing about the girls we see, and girls drool­ing over nice hair and sexy blue eyes. I’d say the aver­age emo­tional age of the char­ac­ters is about 12. No re­vi­sions here. Geordie Shore is ev­ery bit as aw­ful as I’ve al­ways thought it was.

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