He’s such a snowflake ...keep Jordan in there!
THERE’S always one. It’s the showbiz personality (a term to be used lightly) who is persuaded by an agent to enter I’m A Celebrity... Get Me Out of Here! (ITV, nightly) carrying with them a full basket of phobias that would keep Harley Street in Teslas for a decade.
This year’s nervous Nelly is Jordan North. I’m sure he jumps when he sees himself in the mirror each morning. He’s actually a DJ on Radio 1 who apparently is so frightened of the elevator that he walks up eight flights of stairs each day.
His radio show must be hilarious – “I hope this isn’t being broadcast to the whole nation.” Jordan isn’t putting it on either; he’s a genuine snowflake. Hooray! On reaching the site of the first trial on Sunday which involved abseiling off a cliff, he politely excused himself and hurled into a bush. Preferable to hurling yourself off a precipice. In fact, it was an I’m A Celeb record… 33 minutes before parading the contents of your breakfast.
Why was he worried? There’s so much health and safety on TV a circus elephant could have safely negotiated that descent.
Jordan finally got talked round by the others at the base of the cliff, who were looking very annoyed, and inwardly tutting, “He’s going to get all the edit time now…”
The following night he took to a shallow grave to collect stars with Shane Richie’s career, which was last seen on Channel 5 doing a moving critique on static vans. But Shane did allow himself to be upstaged by a man shouting: “Happy place, Happy place… Turf Moor”. Even the vipers looked confused. At least that’s next year’s season ticket sorted at Burnley FC for Jordan.
But thank God for Jordan in a way because otherwise Ant and Dec, coming “live” from Wales with a helpful on-screen clock, would have been bereft of drama.
Abandoning the scorching sunlight and unwelcome critters of Down Under, this is really I’m a Celebrity... Get Me a Floodlight! It’s also devoid of jeopardy, with a clutch of happy celebrities so pleased to pick up a fee that they’re being ever-so-nice to each other. Producers, please wind them up! They’re far too smug and comfortable. We’ve even had a vegan version of a bushtucker eating trial!
Still, in the want of anything much better in a national lockdown, millions of us are watching.
On Tuesday night, Jordan was voted to do an eating challenge. God love the British public. But he may have been eclipsed by the sight of Vernon Kay eating a cold deer’s testicle. I know, stone cold. Everyone knows that dish is served warm, with two vegetables. There are other competitors, in case you’re interested.
The only one to make an impact has been Coronation Street’s Beverley Callard who gave us an intimate commentary on the “Places where bugs can go”. I know it’s ITV, but let’s not go there.
Still, Jordan North is so good at lifting our spirits, he will probably get an MBE, OBE – or C of E, like the rest of us.
Sad to see that we have lost Gyles and Sheila so soon from Great Canal Journeys (C4, Sunday) after only two episodes. Brandreth had just found the rudder. “I was enjoying that!” I shouted at the television. They were just warming up too. Plugging holes in a wall in the Lee Valley, as you do, they joked about what the bishop had said to the actress. Then the reverse! It’s too rude to repeat but the wall looked splendid. Return soon. The Undoing (Sky Atlantic, Monday) continues to intrigue. Anyone could be the killer. It might even be Donald Sutherland’s chauffeur. Nice large trunk in that limo, the ideal choice for serial killer usage. If it’s not him, Sutherland has meanwhile transformed himself into a nasty piece of work. All crabby and cranky, Nicole Kidman’s screen father also plays a mean game of chess. Really scary. Still, the more they make us think Hugh Grant is innocent, the more guilty he seems. Finally, I stumbled into Omid Djalili’s promising new gameshow, indeed the only one he has presented, so he said. Winning Combination (ITV, Monday) is a game about similar things. It’s for Tipping Point players who’d like to stretch themselves but a generous snooze for those who do Only Connect.
Born to Iranian parents, Omid wins my prize for the best un-woke joke of the week. “The producers told me to be myself,” he said, “so I sold them a carpet!”
He carried on in that rich vein, as did some of the contestants who would say anything, woke or not. The game went on for an hour, which in lockdown is at least two trips to the kitchen too many. Overlong, but very funny.