Big Brother was awesome this year: Part I
Yeah yeah, I love Big Brother. I suppose you don’t even own a TV and can only maintain an erection to the sounds of Derek Jacobi reading the audiobook of Dostoevsky’s Gambler? Well aren’t you clever? Plenty of us love it, and this year, we genuinely have nothing to be ashamed about.
Instead of the usual “LOUDER! MORE EXTREME! MORE TWISTS!” mindset, the producers mostly left the nomination process alone, didn’t bother with any secret houses, evicted contestants being voted back in, or scores of new housemates marching through the doors every week like a Spartan army with designs on getting their nobs out in Nuts Magazine. This was all jettisoned in favour of the wacky idea of just letting people be people. Consequently, it’s been AWESOME.
The season has felt like a series of overlapping week-long story arcs, usually culminating each Friday with the central figure of that current escapade’s departure, and immediately starting over with a new focal point; The Noirin-Sree saga, the Noirin-Marcus saga, the surprise Noirin-Marcus-Siavash saga, Issac turning up to sweep Noirin away, Bea vs. Freddie, Bea vs. The House, the rulebreaking rebels vs. Lisa and David, and so on, week after week of glorious television.
I may think too deeply about things, but one aspect of how it all played out could be a good indicator of how subtle and slow-burning it’s been this year, as opposed to the usual episode after episode of Big Brother plying the housemates with drink until they start sucking each other’s tits and fucking the light-sockets under the guise of a game of ‘Truth or Dare?’ Even though there was enough bubbling animosity to keep things ticking over, it’s the first series for a long time where the housemates didn’t immediately splinter off into two clearly defined groups, groups that would pick each other off until a final week left with dullards.
As much as I’d lay down my life for the Slick Man, should he ask, there’s no point denying that this series bettered even the mighty Season 5, with its Jungle Cats, Fight Night and that silent closing zoom through an argument-destroyed house onto Kitten’s anti-war graffifi. In spite of all the sneery trumpeting of low ratings and BB’s demise, BB10 has been the best series ever.
Before the finale, I’ll take a look at the housemates, in a blog entry that’ll probably be less pretentious than this and contain lots of sub-Brooker observations about their physical appearances.