Time for knacker’s yard, Shameless!
People say chavvy Brits do not eat enough fresh veg – but the five-a-day message has clearly taken hold on the Chatsworth Estate.
In the first episode of the final series of Shameless, which began this week, Frank ( right) and pals got through more mushrooms than Jamie Oliver has managed in his whole career.
Magic mushrooms still count right? Fibre is fibre.
Quite why these green-fingered Mancunians were harvesting their ‘shrooms in late winter, when you’d normally get them in the autumn, was a bit of a mystery.
Perhaps we should blame global warming.
Or, more likely, we should blame the fact that Shameless binned any notion of realism about six series ago, when the cartoon villains of the Maguire family nudged the Gallaghers from centre stage.
Let’s be honest: this once brilliant and groundbreaking show has gone on too long.
Every “new” plot feels recycled – Frank gets another new job, Jamie has another identity crisis, another copper wants to shag one of the crims HAS it really been four long years since we were last treated to a portion of Ant and Dec’s
Yes it has. “The show where you don’t just watch the adverts, you win them!” was mothballed in 2009 to allow the Geordie hosts to work on low-budget indie movies and a concept album.
OK, I’m lying. It was so they could make more Saturday night ITV1 pap like
and Anyway, as they kept telling us, a lot has changed in the last four years.
That is true. Most of us now have Sky Plus.
Which means we don’t just fast-forward through the adverts, but the whole show! – and the characters have nothing left to say.
It is still worth watching, though, for the occasional bits of genius.
Like the opening scene, which saw the Chatsworth get its very own Olympic ring from the London Games – but it turned out to be a massive zero from a used car salesman’s forecourt. That is the best illustration yet of what the north gained from London’s big jolly.
Some of the writing remains razor sharp, too. Like this little gem from Frank, when his eagerlyawaited prozzie had to cry off due to a dose of the clap and a pair of chubbers turned up in her place.
“I don’t care if she’s got AIDS,” he cried, “I’ll get doubled bagged up and watch her tamper with herself. I’d rather do a Rock Hudson than get trampled by these gastric bandits.”
Or how about this little speech from Mimi, who gave it the full Comic Relief treatment when trying to persuade a pair of screws to let the community service team work on her own building project.
“Less than a mile from here, English kiddies are risking illness and disease by holding in their urine and faeces because they haven’t got functioning toilets.
“That or they walk to Mapley Park and risk noncing by paedos. Half term starts today. Imagine the joy on their little faces if they get back to find they can shit and piss in safety.”
For these reasons, I’ll still watch and love Shameless to the bitter end.
But in my heart I know it is time for Channel 4’s faithful old pit pony to take its final walk to the knacker’s yard.
Or the Findus factory. A bit of horse lasagne will go nicely with all those mushrooms. “I have been on this planet a lot longer than you, David” said Gail in Coronation Street. No, Gail, you ARRIVED on the planet before him. But then we all saw you get into the spaceship and fly away, right after you pointed your glowing finger at Elliott and said “I’ll be right here.” EASTER came early to Albert Square, with Phil Mitchell rising from the dead.
He was quicker about it than Jesus, getting back on his feet in less than one episode.
But you know what EastEnders is like. Thirty minutes usually feels like three days.
If you care, it was Jack Branning who did the honours, lamping Phil in a row at the garage and accidentally knocking him into the car pit.
After briefly channelling the spirit of Kenneth Williams – “Phil! Stop messin’ abaaaaaht!” – he panicked and fled, leaving his unconscious foe for dead.
And if you think you cannot get lower than nearly pegging out in a car pit in a skanky workshop, they were arguing over who gets to nail Sharon.
Now that really is the pits. WELL, it had to happen eventually – babe Eva Price’s boobs have finally killed someone.
The victim was new arrival Eric, elderly fiancé of Eva’s scheming granny Gloria.
Surprisingly, the cause of death was not suffocation, which is always a risk when dealing with funbags that size.
In fact, the old fella suffered a heart attack in the Rovers shortly after inviting Eva to be his “companion” on a round-theworld cruise. Fed up with her lot in Weatherfield, she was verging on saying yes.
Clearly, it is a health hazard even THINKING about spending some quality face time with those perfect melons, all smooth and tanned and slick with oil and.....sorry, I’ve just gone a bit dizzy, I’d better have an aspirin and a lie-down.
In other news, young Katie has been given a job at Dev’s takeaway despite admitting she knows nothing about making kebabs.
If she gets stuck, she needs only to think of Jason’s relationship with Stella to remind her what to do – you stick your meat into a hot nan, then give it plenty of sauce.