The reality stars who’ve got the friendliest show on TV sewn up
THE single word that sums up today’s entertainment telly is ‘conflict’. That can be feuding neighbours screaming in each other’s faces on a soap set, sobbing teenagers battling to outsing one another in a cut-throat talent contest, or lying lovers breaking each other’s hearts for votes on a tawdry reality show.
What we love most on our livingroom screens is open emotional warfare — or so every TV producer believes. How heartening, then, to watch the finalists on The Great British Sewing Bee (BBC2) reject conflict in favour of co-operation, as they swapped encouragement and advice in the climactic rounds.
When Riccardo went all fingers and thumbs trying to turn a waistcoat inside-out to finish the stitching, rivals Leah and Juliet were at his side to coax the material into shape. And when Leah had one of her trademark panic attacks, Riccardo and Juliet were on hand to talk her down from the ceiling.
This spirit of helpfulness could revolutionise telly. Imagine how quickly Line Of Duty would be resolved if all the characters agreed to pool what they knew: if, instead of ‘ no comment’, the interviewees said, ‘ Oh, there’s another thing I should have mentioned, in case it’s useful . . .’
It’ll never happen, and that’s what has made this year’s Sewing
Bee unique. Previous series emphasised the element of competition, but new presenter Joe Lycett couldn’t be bothered with any of that.
He has revelled in his total lack of sewing expertise, too. Holding up one garment, he gasped: ‘Is that silk? It’s made by a worm! Isn’t that bonkers?’
He was much more interested in the contestants than the clothes. When the sister of one seamstress whispered, ‘There are lots of things about Leah that are annoying,’ Joe let out an ‘oooohh!’ worthy of Frankie Howerd.
There was an end-of-term air to his antics this week. While judges Patrick Grant and Esme Young were fully focused on the clothes, the host was strolling round the set, swiping props and shovelling them into a bin-bag. Gathering up a couple of picture frames, he stage-whispered: ‘ That’s Mum’s birthday sorted.’
Some of the outfits were equally daft. Riccardo held a protest against plastic pollution in the oceans by fashioning a dress that looked and moved like a jellyfish. Leah stitched a flounce around the neckline of an evening dress and decided at the last minute that it needed more going-over with the iron — so she made the model bend over the ironing board and lie very still while she gave the fabric an extra press.
Who cares about the sewing, it’s the characters that count. I’m already looking forward to the next series.
But there seems little to look forward to, unfortunately, in one of the most notorious unsolved crimes of recent decades. Despite the Mail’s in- depth investigation, published last week, senior police held out no hope of following up any breakthroughs on The Murder of Jill Dando (BBC1).
This was a deeply frustrating documentary. Dando’s Crimewatch co-host, Nick Ross, was visibly despondent at the lack of progress, following the release from jail of prime suspect Barry George in 2008. George did not appear on the programme.
Nothing was offered in the way of new evidence. It is horribly ironic that the British justice system should have failed Dando, of all people, after she devoted so much of her career to countering crime. All the show achieved was to remind us what a marvellous broadcaster she was — and how she has never really been replaced.