'There is only one reason why we are showing you this . . . (dramatic pause the size of which would make Harold Pinter hang his head in awe) so that you are armed with knowledge, because knowledge is power' ('power' should almost certainly be in capitals but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Sorry)
Wise words from LA cop and silver fox, John Barrell.
Somewhat undermined by the clip of two teenage girls speeding and then crashing into a family car, what pearls does John have for us:
'Wowee man, they must be going 100 miles an hour.'
Thanks John we can all take something from that.
Maybe the knowledge that cars go fast.
So Australian Masterchef.
I loved Professional Masterchef - a special blend of an interested world class chef, Michel Roux Junior, whose ego didn't need re-assuring by getting needlessly fraught over nothing every 15 seconds (Gordon Ramsay take note) and offered genuinely useful advice, and a fat bald clown who used to sell vegetables and may have eaten a pie in a pub once. You, like me , will be doubtless thrilled to know Greg the Greengrocer is opening a restaurant serving 'good honest food' whatever that is. Personally I like my food dishonest: a sly lasagne, dishonest tarts (you knew that was coming).
Anyway, Australian Masterchef. Why bother ? I thought. How wrong I was. 30 seconds in and not a kitchen in sight. Instead there's a man in tears, telling another man how much he misses his wife. Eventually it transpires that the weepy man is a contestant and he's quitting the show because he can't stand being apart from his wife. It's not clear but it's implied she's given some sort of ultimatum - the host isn't taking it lying down though - they start showing clips of the interview process and there's the wife saying she'll be fine with him doing the show.
10 minutes in and there's still no cooking.
All this and Cesar Romero as the Joker on ITV4. Only equalled (never bettered) by Frank Gorshin as the Riddler, who's stuttering assaults on grammar and word order seemed like a precursor to Yoda except in green spandex and a lavendar mask.
Must dash the Joker's up to something with an inflatable sultan and The Gayfellow Cleaning Company.
Armed only with knowledge I run to the Batpole
The Clown Prince of Cooking
Romero's Ghost
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