This talking teddy sitcom is crude and threadbare
Ted was a 2012 film about a talking teddy bear who, instead of being cute, smoked marijuana and made foul-mouthed jokes in a strong Bostonian accent. The comic premise was that he had come to life when his eight-year-old owner, John Bennett, wished upon a star, but now John was a 30-something man (played by Mark Wahlberg) doomed to spend all of his time with this stuffed toy.
The adventures of a sweary Paddington were reasonably funny back then. And a lot of people thought so – it grossed more than $500m at the box office. Now, though? Dredged up by creator Seth Macfarlane eight years after a poorly received sequel, and turned into a TV series (Sky Max)? Not so much.
This is a prequel that nobody asked for, set in 1993 when John has reached his teenage years. Ted sets the scene in an introductory voice-over, saying that he was once a media sensation but “like every phenomenon, eventually nobody gives a s--t”. Which is exactly how you should feel about this series.
It’s a family sitcom, in which Ted lives with John (Max Burkholder), John’s parents Susan and Matty (Alanna Ubach and Scott Grimes), and cousin Blaire (Giorgia Whigham). It’s also something of an origin story, in that we see John and Ted get stoned for the first time. But the joke has worn so thin – Ted swears, insults people, makes gags about paedophile priests – that it just isn’t entertaining. The action, if that’s what you can call it, moves between the family home and high school, where Ted reluctantly enrols when all he wants to do is stay at home, playing video games and watching TV.
In a doomed attempt to bring Ted up-to-date, Macfarlane has made Blaire a “woke” character who berates Uncle Matty for using racial stereotypes – Uncle Matty being a working-class Republican type. She calls him “a classic Boston racist”. He protests: “I’m not a racist, my favourite movie is Rocky. Apollo Creed is in the movie.” Aunt Susan then points out that Blaire can be racist too, because as a child she would practice haircuts on her black Barbies, before committing to styling her blonde Barbies’s hair. “I was eight years old, I didn’t f---ing know any better,” says Blaire.
For starters, did anyone talk like this in 1993? And for seconds – this dialogue is about as funny as the rest of the show. Anita Singh
What’s the best way to find gifted entrepreneurs fit for Britain’s brave new future? Forcing them to make vast quantities of novelty cheesecake isn’t the first method that springs to mind but that was the approach taken by The
Apprentice (BBC One). Eighteen series in, this format looks less like a credible business competition and more like a low-rent reality show with wheelie suitcases.
Viewers seem to agree. Ratings for last week’s opening episode nosedived from 4.8million last year to just 3.6million. Pass the BBC bigwigs some cheesecake, they might need to comfort-eat.
Lord Sugar kicked off proceedings by informing us: “One of the biggest trends in the food and drink industry right now is the rising popularity of mini cheesecakes.” Is it really? Still, with a surname like Sugar, I’ll take his word for it.
Cue the customary carnival of ineptitude. The candidates’ morning alarm call came at 3am, as if they were auditioning for a milk round. One of the Girls’ team mistook shaved truffle for chocolate powder. Another didn’t know how many grams in a kilogram.
Somehow the Boys were worse. One marched into Innocent Smoothies HQ and tried to convince them to drop this whole fruit-and-veg lark in favour of chocolate. It went down like a cup of cold cabbage juice. “Like trying to persuade the Vatican to install a condom machine,” noted Lord Sugar. Their dragonfruit, avocado and apricot confections resembled something made by a toddler. Project manager Phil claimed that it was “artisanal”.
The Girls trounced the Boys by spending less and selling more. Lord Sugar told tough-talking Flo: “They should’ve asked you to negotiate Brexit.” Topical political humour there.
The Boys’ failure was even more humiliating when it emerged that their two leaders, Phil and Paul, both own pie companies yet had still lost two consecutive food-based tasks. “It should have literally been a piece of cake for you,” raged the bellicose boss.
Kitchen chaos. Running around in hairnets. Dressing up as lemons. It might be mildly diverting, but this show has got as much relevance to 21st-century business as chalk has to cheesecake. Michael Hogan
Ted ★ The Apprentice ★★