A useful solution to all those tubby telly clichés
On TV right now, fat is the new thin. Broadcasters, especially the publicminded/do-gooding BBC (delete according to taste), can’t air enough programmes about “the obesity epidemic™”. All of them invariably involve “a groundbreaking experiment” and “leading experts”. Stir in some scene-setting shots of wobbly tummies, straining tape measures and overloaded bathroom scales. Garnish with close-ups of takeaways and sweet treats. Serve tepid.
So it was with a heavy heart that I approached the latest entry in this ever-expanding genre, The Big Crash
Diet Experiment (BBC One). To my surprise, it turned out to be tolerable – partly because it bucked against received wisdom, partly because it didn’t feature any crusading celebrity chefs finger-wagging at the public.
Ultra-low calorie crash diets have a bad reputation, no NHS backing and are, we were told, “the black sheep of the dieting world”. However, some experts believe it’s time for a rethink. The winningly warm Dr Javid Abdelmoneim investigated, aided by the government’s former adviser on obesity, Professor Susan Jebb.
Naturally, there was a “bold, groundbreaking experiment”, which found four volunteers with serious weight-related health issues giving up real food for nine weeks to exist on soups, shakes and thin air.
Not only did the quartet lose their target of two stone apiece but they all kept the weight off. Catholic priest Paul reversed his Type 2 diabetes. Tracy lost 16in from her waist and got her high blood pressure back in check. Secret binge-eater Yolande’s fatty liver was virtually cured. Takeaway addict Rebecca – who ate so many that she even got invited to her local kebab man’s wedding – conquered her fast food demons. There were tears, triumphs and new trousers all round. Done properly, it seemed, crash diets can work.
At the end of the experiment, Abdelmoneim took the impressive results to NHS obesity tsar Professor Jonathan Valabhji. Could he persuaded? Valabhji admitted the findings were exciting, achieving more than double the weight-loss of current Nhs-supervised diets. Yet he also said this radical solution was costly, time-consuming for GPS and that he needed more data. Typical politician’s answer.
Still, this documentary was refreshingly direct and at least offered potential solutions, rather than the usual platitudes. I could even forgive it the tubby telly clichés.
Eight rural romantics continued their quest to find Love in the Countryside (BBC Two). This was the pastoral dating show’s penultimate episode, so matchmaker Sara Cox was taking the bull by the horns, pulling the udder one and other agricultural puns.
Gay farmer Richard invited three suitors up to remote Dumfries & Galloway, where they tackled tasks and jostled for attention like an arable version of The Apprentice. Richard plumped for engineer Will but their relationship fizzled out. I found myself telling my TV screen that he should’ve picked witty Tom instead – not least because Will’s house had a sign on the wall saying: “Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning to dance in the rain.” God help us if there’s a war.
Coxy kept missing with Cupid’s arrow. Equine vet Heather’s “onemonth jinx” struck again. Farmer Christine visited the bright lights and many roundabouts of Milton Keynes, only to find that pest controller Joe lived in a “passion palace” and was too much of a lager lad to settle down. Would anyone find love in the fields?
Thankfully, along came Yorkshire dairy farmer Pete and the lovely Helen. On a mini-break d’amour in the South of France, they wined, dined, scubadived and snogged. “You’re a perfect gentleman,” said Helen. “You’re not annoying,” said soppy old romantic Pete. As the pair held hands on a clifftop, they seemed to have sweet spark and genuine promise.
There’s something polite and pleasingly old-fashioned about Love in the Countryside. No game show gimmicks, no “structured reality” contrivances, none of those teaktanned, gym-pumped, nano-brained fame-seekers you find on other dating series. It was just likeable yet lonely people who work all hours in the middle of nowhere and need a little help finding love.
The result has been a thoroughly charming, grin-inducing series. A fleecy First Dates. Blind Date in a barn. Take Me Out with green wellies instead of white stilettos. Get orf my land and into my heart.
The Big Crash Diet Experiment Love In The Countryside