The Sunday Post (Inverness)

Rumble in jungle gets a sprig of Holly


I’m A Celebrity . . . Get me Out Of Here! ITV

Some diehards were as worried about it as the thought of facing a Bushtucker Trial.

OK, so that’s utter madness – being covered in minging mealworms, crawling cockroache­s or scary scorpions is naturally a much grimmer prospect.

But an Ant-less I’m A Celebrity (that’s the missing co-presenter not the green, really bitey insects) just wasn’t as appealing.

Turns out, happily, we needn’t have worried. Was Holly Willoughby as funny? Nope. Was she ruinously rubbish? Definitely not. And the sight of her with a clammy sick sweat on and closer to retching than Sair and Malique in an eating trial was a real highlight.

She eased her way into the links which are usually the best bit. And as long as Dec was by her side to joke, banter and deliver some classic quips – “Evening, Prime Minister” – in his usual impish manner, all was going to be fine.

The campmates were a winning bunch, too.

Harry with his hilarious tales of royal ignorance and his undying love for his missus,

John with his “Fab-u-lous” singing and Emily’s atrocious attempts at anything resembling dance moves.

Then there were the trials. Nick neded no SOS, Anne showed sheer sense in backing out and Fleur took being turned into the world’s worst pizza with remarkable fortitude.

Of course, there were tears. Mind you, most of them were from the ITV bosses when they realised first-out Noel Edmonds had cost them £55K a day.

mrs WILSON, bbc1

The true-life tale of how actress Ruth Wilson’s gran found out her husband had several other wives and was a spy is downright bizarre.

But so gripping.

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