QI is a fun waste of time for odd trivia
If there’s a reason for QI (Prime, Tuesdays) then it’s to drop those curious pieces of ‘‘quite interesting’’ information into a conversation.
You’ll always be remembered as the person who tells a banana eater that, if he devours 999 more, he’ll become radio active. Or that 40 tablespoons of peanut butter and 1.4 cigarettes are as dangerous as two days in New York.
Other than that, QI isa diverting waste of time except for host Stephen Fry, who collects the trivia and presides over a largely unknown group of British personalities like he’s the Speaker of the House.
On Tuesday night, I learned killer whales should be whale killers because that’s what they do, the ball-cutting fish from New Guinea can castrate you, an injured New Zealand chef was once put on a whisky drip and the British Hate Training Academy really existed.
The Hate Training Academy was quickly closed down in World War II, but now flourishes around the world in Islamic countries and Charlottesville.
One questionable opinion stayed with me. Guest Trevor Noah claimed that Judas, one of the disciples, was a vampire. From that I gather the 30 pieces of silver that vampires loathe were intended to burn and paralyse Judas, not to cause him to betray his master. I can feel a book coming on – or another episode of True Blood.
If Stephen Fry is the saving grace then his medicated audience isn’t. They’ve smoked a week’s supply of synthetic cannabis beforehand and wouldn’t know if Elvis had left the building before them. Their OTT laughter is so ‘‘value added’’ that you have to reverse the episode to know what’s being said.
But there’s a difference between the QI audience and the sycophants who populate Jimmy Fallon (Prime, Monday/fridays). They stand, applaud and laugh at the same time and wouldn’t know Elvis from an impersonator. When Jimmy sang a variation of Total Eclipse Of The Hear t on Wednesday, they would have voted him all the way to the White House.
It was good to see Fair Go (TV One, Mondays) on the job. While it’s a challenge to sustain a programme that’s been in a time warp since Kevin Milne, they tracked down reprobate Gordon Bayne, who’d promised them he wouldn’t swindle another person.
On this occasion Jude Cottrell, from Manakau Harbour, paid him most of $3000 to lay a concrete slab, but he never turned up to start the work. From previous episodes, Fair Go knew Gordon would hang around his favourite takeaway so, in a smart piece of detection, Matt Chisholm waited outside and confronted him.
Gordon relented, told Matt he’s done, he’s over it and asked if he returned the money, would Fair Go give him a break? Rather, will Gordon give them and NZ’S gullible community a break?
It’s an episode that keeps on giving, we’ll just have to wait and see if he repays the money.
Probably Gordon won’t and, in the fullness of time, he’ll change his name to Donald, turn up at another door and deceive someone else. Well done Fair Go. There are more Ron Ratbags out there. Go and find them.
I’m sure Hunted UK (TV One, Mondays) set out to be one of the most intriguing series to originate from Britain. It was an export order not to be missed. Because the UK is one of the most watched nations, Channel 4 chose 14 citizens to go on the run and then engaged 30 of the world’s most successful investigators to find them in 28 days.
Given a moment’s notice, off went Ricky Allen GP and, separately, Emily and Laureen. Now I don’t know what his patients thought, but Dr Allen was determined not to be caught. Emily withdrew £300 and she and Laureen hitchhiked north.
The gumshoes swooped in but, by the end of the first engrossing episode, hadn’t caught the three of them. In fact, they had little idea. If these are the sort of people to keep England safe, then I hope Parliament won’t engage them to find Bill English’s 450 messages to his former secretary.
I suspect Emily will be nabbed soon because she rings home regularly to check on 18-month-old Ernest. But so far the investigators are waiting for the fugitives to make a mistake rather than generating a light bulb moment. They need to lift their game next episode.
I viewed pop music legend Barry Manilow with disbelief on Tonight At The Palladium (TV One, Saturdays). He was a triumph for the art of embalming. He seemed to move the muscles in his face with a switch hidden somewhere near his botty. His voice sounded the same.
He may be a living legend, but the legend has overcome the living.