Welcome to Watch With ... the weekly(ish) feature in which we take an hour of British TV and taste to see if it is good. We'll rip it apart with our hungry fingers, placing each morsel of televisular offering delicately upon our tongues of quality, tasting it with our buds of pop culture and then slowly and collaboratively deciding if we wish to swallow.
This week it's a one-off show, and it kind of isn't. It's Sport Relief Does The Apprentice on BBC1 from 9-10. If you're watching and want to play along, there's a comment box open for your fingerdrops of wonderfulness. If you're happening along tomorrow morning and want to give a considered opinion, then, do, my loves, do. Hell, if you've chanced upon the post midweek and were just glad to find somewhere to offload about the slipping of Guardian journalistic standards, by all means, welcome. As always, click on read more to read more, and hit refresh for updates and new comments.
(And you can of course support Sport Relief here, importantly)
Oh Suralun, Surallun, oh small beardy businessman with a responsibility for the Amstrad E-m@iler and a staccato if somewhat monotone delivery, welcome back to our loving arms, we've missed you so!
Is that a bit strong? That's a bit strong, isn't it? Sorry. Well, it's quite exciting to see The Apprentice back, even if it is a charity one-off in advance of the real thing sometime later in the month (I think).
For those who might not quite understand why I'm so affectionate about something which is, really, It's A Knockout for marketing gonks, here is why: After a few years of doing various television offerings in live-blog stylee - following on from the minute by minute thing we've been doing for sport all these years, but slower; with less balls, and more bollocks - from Royal Weddings to Big Brothers and Eurovisions, we ended up doing the whole series of The Apprentice last year, and had a jolly good time about it, too.
So, pleased at the very thought those happy times might return, we're pleased to see anything vaguely Apprenticey. Well I am. Can't really speak for anyone else. Though I imagine Alan might be quite happy too. Listen to me. "Alan". Like we're bezzie mates.
Anyway, tonight, we have Kirstie Allsop, Louise Redknapp, Lisa Snowden, Clare Balding, Jacqueline Gold, Kelvin McKenzie, Phil Tufnell, Lembit Opik, Nick Hancock and Hardeep Singh Kohli. And Al, obviously. Maybe Nick and Margaret (or Nipper and Magmag, as I so familiarly call them, being so close) So, predictions, feelings, worries?
For my own part, I'm just watching Relocation Relocation, and suspecting that the odious couple involved might just decide to move into Kirsty, since she's the size of a house and about to give birth any second. Secretly I'm hoping that even though this show is more than a year old, she hasn't actually given birth, and has simply considered growing, making her by now the size of a tanker. I think it would make for an amusing boardroom scene.
Any other ideas?
9.01: "Self-made businessman and beligerent boss Alan Sugar expects the candidates to raise THOUSANDS of pounds for charity" says the voiceover, before showing an awful lot of disappointment and tellings off. You don't know what you;re doing, says Sir Alan Sugar. Shug. You're behaving like a bunch of school children, he says.
Five male celebrities, and five female are battling to see who can raise the most money/get shouted out the most.
Oh my yes, this all bodes quite well indeed.
9.03: Sir Alan gives a personal introduction to each celebrity. "Kelvin MacKenzie. I remember when you were the editor of that paper. You said everyone had a right to reply. You did me badly in your rag, I used my right to reply, phoned you up, you told me to fuck off" says Alan. Not bitter at all, clearly. "I said you had a right to reply, I didn't promise what the reply would be", says Kelvin.
He asks Hardeep Singh Kohli if he happens to be related to the Kohli family of East London, to whom he used to deliver in the old days. "Lovely family. Mummy was behind the counter. Used to give me some of them chapatis. They were lvoely, but they had some dreadful effect on me later in the day." He says, multiculturally. "Well, it's your chapati, you can cry if you want to!" says Hardeep, which is nowhere near as funny as Phil Tuffnell, who then refers to Alan as Sir Sugar.
And so it goes on. He knows Louise Redknapp's husband. He thinks everyone else is all right.
9.07: Each team has to take a shop, stock it, and open it within three days. So like the WAGs Boutique. But, you know, classier.
9.13: Back at the hotel, the women decide on a shop name, a leader, a stock, and start phoning the suppliers.
In the men's room, they're having trouble deciding on a eader. "I'M NOT A NATURAL LEADER", mumbles Kelvin, before aiding the whole process by calling elected leader Hardeep, a nazi, barely into the discussion.
After two more hours, they decide that Lembit Opik, having failed to come down on anyone's side or do anything decisive at all, should be the leader. Insert your own LibDem joke here. They still came to power in the end, though, please note. Sorry, someone let me at politics today, I've come over a bit Ben Elton.
9.16:Lembit is failing to get stock, and wondering which famous people he knows and can call on. I swear, the moment the Cheeky Girls appear, the television is going off, and that's the end of it.
9.17: Now, I'm not being funny, but Lisa Snowdon was described as a 'supermodel'; now, she's lovely, and I have nothing against the woman at all, but has that just become a new word for 'model', or what?
9.18: The male team have decided that their concept is 'buy one get one free', in that for everything you buy, you'll receive something 'that money can't buy'. This means, as the voiceover reminds us, they'll need twice as much stock.
Right now, they have four items.
9.21: Jacqueline Gold is getting on Kirsty Allsop's (now deflated, contrary to my previous predictions) breasticles. Quite a lot. Mainly the problem at the moment seems to be about the sign. Red and black? Orange, and red, and black? Will it look like a sex shop? Who knows?! Well, to be fair, on that one, Gold probably does. She owns some, you know.
However, they're not building a sex shop. Or ARE they? That would be quite a novelty charity show.
9.24: There are heavy negotiations over which team gets which assistants for the shop. They have now been joined by publicists, by the way, Max Clifford for the Lady Team and some it girl (Tamararahrahrah Ecclestone?) and now there's a big fight about who will get cartoonist Gerald Scarfe and who will get a photographer.
The men spectacularly fuff the negotiation, and, attempting to please everyone at once and make sure everyone has has a voice in the negotiation. Sadly this way, nothing seems to get done. At all. And that's the LibDe... oh alright.
Kelvin ('NOT A NATURAL LEADER, ME') Mackenzie is making rumbling noises about mutiny. Or farting. It's difficult to tell. Whatever, there's a lot of hot air coming out of the men's room.
9.30: The women are doing well on seling tickets to the shop opening, if that's what they're selling tickets for. Do you buy your way into a shop? Well, now you do. Louise is doing extremely well, as, if I remember rightly, poor Cheryl Tweedycole did last year. Louise phones her football manager friends, and footballer friends, and sells, as far as we've heard, 4 tickets for £130,000.
In terms of charity, I have to say that the way forward in future projects might be to, rather than give WAGs their own boutiques and a whole series, and then have these one off charity Apprentice specials, just have give all the WAGs phones, and film them in a room for an hour phoning up and charming people into giving them money for no reason. For charity, sorry. Or you could just ask the footballers into a room and get some lapdancers with particularly capacious and stuffable knickers in.
9.35: There is so much wordmincing going on between Lembit Opik and Hardeep Singh Kohli that by the end of the day they're going to be able to make a whole ShepWord's Pie.
But without Muchy Peace on the side. You know what I mean?
No, probably not. Sorry.
9.37: Kirsty and Jacquline are having a fight over who gets to phone Richard Branson. Kisty storms out. It is a moment of drama, and well-deserved because Ms Dildofortune does seem to be a little bit controlly.
Meanwhile, the boys have managed to secure £25,000 for one ticket. Or rather, Tamara have. The boys themselves have done very little.
9.39: Struggling to sell tickets, Lembit phones the biggest celebrity he knows
"Oh hallo dahlink! Yays!"
Says a cheeky girl on the other end of the phone.
And, as promised, the television is going off. Thank you, and good night.
9.42: Oh, no, wait.
"No I can't come I cahhhhhn't come toniiiiight, I So SORRY!"
Ah, so there will be no view of Cheeky Girl after all. I must stay.
"Thank you darling, you're like a tic tac, you've given me a little lift!" Says Lembit, which, while not as bad as 'I want to be your tampon', for some reason, comes close.
9.44: The launch parties have arrived!
9.46: The women's team, from the looks of it, seem to be making all the money, but you know how these things can edit. In fact, never usually that surprisingly in the end, so I'll bet they'll win. And if they do, it will all be up to Clare Balding, Louise Redknapp, and Kirsty Allsop. I don't care what you say about Kirsty, she's my gal, and I'll follow her wherever she leads. Except possibly politically. But still, she's a sista. Also super Lisa Snowdon, ex-model. She's selling everything to everyone. It will be All Their Credit.
I don't like that other lady.
9.50: Bernie Ecclestone's turned up, promising to double whatever his darling daughter makes. Which, strictly, is luck on the side of the boys as well.
"Thanks Bernie! Anything you ever need, I'll help you out - within the law of course!" says Lembit. Oh ho ho ho. I sometimes wonder if he's some new generation of Spitting Image puppet. I mean, that he's controlled with strings is obvious, but I wonder how they do the voice?...
9.52: BOARDROOM!
9.53: The women, once seated in the boardroom, turn out to be more supportive of each other than you might have expected, given the grumpiness.
Jacqueline very tactfully says that the etiquette was not quite as it might be in a boardroom, which surprised her. Kirsty says that some people dealt with pressure, and others really didn't - meaning herself, bless her (though I'm going off her a little over the issue of a dreadful spangly black coat she has on).
"You're opening new shops in Spain, aren'tcha?" says Sir Alan, fulfilling the brand-pimping element of the celebrity involvement. "Vibrating castanets, eh?"
Everyone laughs but Jacqueline.
9.57: Much discussion is had over the leadership rubbishness of the male team. It ends with another heated mumble-row between Kelvin and Hardeep.
"I won't be expecting a Christmas card this year then" says Hardeep. "I don't know where you live, mate" says Kelvin. "Somewhere outside Berlin, apparently." says Hardeep, in the funniest quip he's been seen offering all evening.
9.58: The results are in - the boys raised 316,000, overall.
The girls: 412,000. Hurrah, well done, they're all dismissed.
9.59: And the boys are sent away for a cup of tea, only to be brought back ...
On Friday. Oh dear. Well, Um, updates when we get it, eh? We'll sort something out.
They all lost, though, didn't they. And no one's coming back next week Or the week after, as far as we know. But soon, says the trailer, The Apprentice will return to BBC1.
What have we learnt this week? a) Making money for charity is even more glowing an experience when it involves swearing and pretend competitions, apparently. b) That The Apprentice is always fun. b) But somehow funnier when using real wannabe Amstrad employees. Soon. Soon.
Thank you, and good night.
