If you were ever in doubt about how relentlessly depressing this year’s Celebrity Big Brother is – about how unwatchably ugly it is, about how it’s the televisual equivalent of picking at a newly stitched wound – then remember this: Katie Hopkins is emerging as one of the most relatable people in the house.
Saturday night’s episode in particular was unspeakably grim. A former child star-turned meth addict was asked to leave the Celebrity Big Brother house after getting drunk and sexually harassing a model. A washed-up soap star who had just called a black singer a “negro” suggested to the model that she shouldn’t make a big deal of it because the man who harassed her happened to be a “powerful Hollywood producer”. The other housemates sullenly sat there in silence, passively allowing this carnival of misery to wash over them.
For a split second, it looked as if celebrity blogger Perez Hilton would be the saviour of the moment. But then, inevitably, it turned out that he was only wading in because he was frightened that the cameras weren’t pointing at him. If anything, his full-volume, over-pronounced, shrieking, attention-seeking would-be intervention ended up being the most depressing thing about the whole sorry affair.
This wasn’t entertaining. There wasn’t a second of enjoyment to be had in the whole episode. You might have tuned in – as I did – out of dumb curiosity after Channel 5 pushed the episode back an hour, but you won’t have enjoyed it. You’d have had a better time spending an hour punching yourself in the mouth, or blasting yourself with gravel and then dousing yourself in vinegar.
Remember, Celebrity Big Brother is a series that thrives on ugliness. Its raison d’etre is to collect down-at-heel celebrities and prod them until they cry or walk out or engage in racism so intense that the chancellor of the exchequer has to make a statement about it. But, even by these horrible standards, Saturday’s episode seemed like the worst yet.
It was so grim that it made you question why you were even watching it. I had such a miserable time on Saturday that I made an informal promise to myself to permanently avoid Celebrity Big Brother from now on. And this is me we’re talking about. I’ll watch any old rubbish.
Worst of all – worst of anything, possibly ever – was the fact that Hopkins emerged as the voice of reason in all of this. Katie Hopkins, for crying out loud. Thanks to the sheer rocket-propelled bleakness of the other housemates, you found yourself involuntarily siding with a woman who essentially makes a living from being horrible about poor people.
Of course she has been true to form in many ways since arriving in the Big Brother house, but when everything around her was going to hell, Katie was alone in retaining a sense of perspective; calmly offering observations without making it all about her.
Siding with Hopkins about anything is dangerous. Sure, at first you might admire her clearheaded refusal to get involved, but next you’ll be casually using the word “scroungers” in conversation. Then, before you know it, you’ll be openly sneering at fat people on the bus and all will be lost. Ugliness I can take. Meltdowns I’m OK with. But the prospect of agreeing with Katie Hopkins? That’s the real reason I’m bailing.
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