Matthew eats… The Masked Singer

Is your greatest strength your biggest weakness? Is your confidence sometimes arrogance? Is your passionate nature sometimes a temper tantrum? Could your easy going nature become laziness in its extreme? To be fair, all that does is show you are human. But is it so endearing in a television programme?

The Masked Singer is a global phenomenon. It is completely cheesy entertainment that is not taken one bit seriously, on the surface at least. Most Saturday night entertainment programmes have over recent years at least put on a veneer of deeper meaning. But not this one. It goes no further than c-list celeb in a costume singing pop hits.

That is its charm. But also, it is at times a grating flaw. There seems to be a competition between the host, Joel Dommett, and the panel of judges as to who is the loudest. The script is deliberately awful, which isn’t a major problem for the target audience perhaps but wearies anyone seeking any form of rigour.

And then there is the filler. If we just had clues and the singing, followed by a brief judging, we could be done in 45 minutes. Yet somehow we end up with double the run time as the space is filled with gimmicks. By the end it isn’t so much ‘take it off’ as ‘get on with it’

This all makes it sound like I hate it. Yet I don’t. I’m hooked by the guessing game and, when it isn’t descending into a shout off, the judging panel is actually fine. They are certainly more life affirming than many of their rivals. And for all the silliness, it never feels like it tips over into cruel.

Maybe I’m wrong audience. Perhaps everything negative I’ve said misses the point. And yes, it might just be the case that what I see as this show’s biggest weaknesses are really it’s greatest strengths.

Matthew eats… Pokemon Concierge

I remember when I was about 12 my dad describing the new fad of Pokemon as a ‘fly-by night’ thing. To be fair, he did look like he was going to be right. After the initial boom in the late 90s and early 00’s it disappeared. Yes, new games, films and cartoons came out, but they didn’t register really on cultural wavelengths.

Then nostalgia crept in and it all came back again. Pokemon Go and Detective Pikachu hit, and the most recent generations of games were big sellers. It feels like us millennials saw how scary adult life was and retreated to something that reminded us of happier times. It would also explain why having detested most manufactured pop from the turn of the century I have now developed a love for it.

Pokemon Concierge is the latest vehicle riding this wave. The plot is Haru, recently heartbroken and missing out on a promotion, gets a job as a concierge at a Pokemon hotel. Her job is to make the Pokemon as happy has possible. And that is pretty much it.

So essentially the plot is paper thin. This would be fine if it was aimed purely at children, but the lead is going through very adult problems, so there is a mixed message with the audience. Other than demonstrating her need to be perfect, why do we need to know Haru’s past? I also do wonder if Tyler, a secondary character, is meant to be as dull as a piece of cardboard. It all feels so basic.

Yet weirdly, that is also the charm. The fact the plot is so unchallenging is actually a balm to the soul. Life is so hideous and dark these days that 20 minutes wallowing in a cartoon that asks nothing more than to be taken on a pleasant, inoffensive ride is a relief. Chop out the monochrome dives in Haru’s mind, and you have something that is pure joy. The most fun is just smugly identifying the Pokemon to yourself.

So yes, if you are expecting something to grip you and throw you around emotionally, then you will be disappointed. But if you want just a pocket of happiness the dive in. It’s a lovely hit of nostalgia. Your inner child will thank you for it.

Matthew eats… The Big Fat Quiz of the Year

I’m not going to lie, the title of this blog post is a slight misnomer. It isn’t really about The Big Fat Quiz of the Year itself, more about a controversy that has spun out from it. I am referring to the ableism debate surrounding Rosie Jones’s appearance this year. I normally avoid this kinds of conversations, but it has been niggling me.

For those who are unaware, Rosie Jones is a comedian with cerebral palsy, which restricts her speech and therefore impacts her delivery of jokes. Many took to X to complain of how unfunny they found her, with many saying her disability makes it inappropriate to be a comedian. Jones that took to X to defend herself, saying that those critiquing her were being ableist.

So where do I stand? I’m not going to lie, I struggled with Big Fat Quiz this year. I’m not going to lay all the blame at Jones. I think the panel this year generally struggled and it will not be a vintage year. But I do think Jones was the weakest of the six. I don’t think however this is about delivery. Even someone delivering the lines without a disability would have struggled to raise a laugh and I’m actually struggling to remember Jones’s contribution.

On the flip side, there are moments in the past where I have liked Jones’s work. She also has an enviable hit rate at writing jokes for other people and shows. So she does have a talent for comedy, although whether that is as a stand up or on panel shows is more questionable.

The real crux here though, is any criticism of her performance automatically ableism? I suppose it depends on the criticism. Saying ‘I just don’t find her funny’ isn’t. Some people find her comedy too crude, so that clearly has nothing to do with her disability. Those that are targeting her disability are being ableist, but even there, some nuance is needed. Delivery is key to comedy, and if someone doesn’t like your delivery that again is just an opinion. It is unfortunate it is tied into disability, but that is, sadly, life. Having said that, the viciousness of the attacks on Jones is unnecessary. If you don’t like her, don’t watch.

Someone on X in response to Jones’s defence of herself said ‘either get better jokes, a thicker skin or do a different job’. Their is some truth to this. Even so, whilst her jokes were a dud, I have seen her do better and it must be draining consistently come under fire. So without wanting to come across as a fence sitter, yes, call out bad jokes. But try to not make the attacks about the person delivering them. There is a place for Jones in comedy, and being a miss on this occasion won’t stop her being a hit on others.

Matthew eats… Evil

Christmas apart from my partner brings pluses and minuses. On the minus side, there is the obvious feeling of missing one of the key events of the year with a loved one. Lovely as it is to see family, you only realise how lonely you are without the one who means most to you until you have had five days without them, and no skype call can replace that.

On the plus side, I have been able to eat foods that are banned from our household, including baked beans, curry and gravy (although not at once). Furthermore, I can catch up on some of my programmes they would never watch. One of which is Evil. As unseasonable as it is, it is a relief to finally watch season three.

And boy, have they gone big this season. This is supernatural horror for the 21st century. Plotlines have included the scourge of social media apps in creating a possession epidemic, drones creating a ‘haunted’ highway and the internet being run by demons, hence the rise in cryptocurrency and disinformation.

The long-running stories have become darker as well. The seed planted in earlier seasons that Lexis, one of Kristen’s four children, is potentially demonic is proving a surprisingly minor hook. The fact that any other show would have made this the driving force shows the rich variety this show can play with. Instead, we have Kristen’s husband paralysed by her increasingly wicked mother and our chief villain Leland, Leland’s own entrapment as a pedophile by Kristen’s daughters and new regular character Sister Andrea being pursued by a demon of her own. Oh, and the Vatican is taking down demonic houses.

For all the darkness, it is still extremely witty. The script both moves at pace but allows for the slow burn. We are trusted to be smart enough in episode six to still be aware of why the toilet is making terrible noises because of a plot point in episode two without characters constantly referring back to ‘can you remember when…’.

What makes the horror here so powerful is the lack of gore. There is instead a psychological terror. And for all the talk of demons and devils, many of them are driven by human forces. Because although the show does suggest a supernatural source of evil, it is also very quick to demonstrate how human frailty maximises this – the devil wins because we choose to take the worst response to something.

I will not quite finish the season by the time me and my partner reunite, which will leave me itching for further revelations. But on the plus side, I will have them back.

Matthew eats… Feud

Thanks to perk with my partner’s bank account, we now have Disney+. This meant a lot of shows that were out of reach are now suddenly available. The back catalogue of American Horror Story is all there, sparing us the need to buy DVDs of the seasons we want to see. So is Feud, something my partner has wanted me to see after they loved it.

The show tells the story of the war between Joan Crawford and Bette Davis, two former queens of Hollywood who resent the fading of their stardom. They agree to join forces in the film version of Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? However, what was supposed to unite them just divides them further and their bitter war with each other intensifies, to the glee of some and dismay of others.

I can see why my partner loves it. Jessica Lange and Susan Sarandon are both astounding as the warring thespians. There is a coldness to them both through which their loathing seeps but also a brittleness, a sense that one more knock could break them, but only in private.They are trained in the art of surviving. In fact, the only roles that they cannot succeed at are those of wives and mothers.

In fact, the whole this is great. The plot is pacey but not dizzying. The script is smart. The documentary framing works, as it is lightly applied enough so that it helps tell the story but doesn’t detract from it.

At the centre though is perhaps on the great motif’s of Ryan Murphy’s work. There is a sense that both women will lose in the long term. Why? Because they fought each other, not the people around them. Imagine if they had really joined forces. Misogyny in the industry could have been toppled. But the world seeks to divide those on the outside. Even so, I cannot wait to see the rest.

Matthew eats… American Horror Story: Apocalypse

I normally watch things in a strict order. Season one, episode one first, right through to the end. It’s neat. It’s orderly. It’s what’s intended. It is why I haven’t bothered with the Marvel universe – story chronological order and release order should be the same.

But then comes American Horror Story, choosing to interlink stories across some seasons, forgetting them in others. A character in season two has their origin story in season four. Someone in season three makes a cameo in season five which appears to mean nothing until we get to season eight. In fact, it is arguably in season eight where any pretense that each season is standalone fully evaporates.

So, the plot. Nuclear wipeout leave a band of survivors (a mixture of the brilliant and the rich) in a fallout shelter. Episode one sees them adjust to strict conditions including diet and spare time under the watchful gaze of Miss Venable. By the end, a stranger has arrived. One who those who saw season one will know is Michael Langdon, the anti-christ.

So how do I feel after the first episode? Well, despite the horrors of nuclear winter, it is at least wittier than Murder House. I know from conversations with my partner that the witches from Coven return later in the season, which is only for the good. Of course, we are still at the stage of more questions than answers, but at least I care about the answers.

My only gripe is that I have the sinking feeling this is going to be a season that will pile everything into the end and possibly make a mess of the finale. Also, when you have taken us to the end of the world, what else can you do? The franchise obviously lives on but has it jumped the shark?

For now, I will let the threads unspool themselves though and wallow in Joan Collins being campy as ever against an otherwise slightly too dry and pithy cast. Never has nuclear been so fun.

Matthew eats… Doctor Who

It is rarely a good idea for a TV show to move back when trying to return to glory. Soap characters never slot back in quite right and any future departure matters less. Once a reality show has complicated its format, simplifying it just makes it look dull.

So I was sceptical at the decision to have Doctor Who a) rehire Russel T Davies as showrunner, b) recast David Tennant as the Doctor for the second time and c) bring back Catherine Tate in the ‘assistant’ role. Don’t get me wrong, this trio represent the glory days of modern Who, but about 15 years has passed and the canon moves on.

Yet, based on the first two specials at least, it’s worked. The sense of fun is back. The stories feel like adventures again. There is silliness without stupidity. The horror is scary but not overwhelming. And we care about how the puzzle is solved, something I haven’t done in a long time.

The first special centred on the cute looking The Meep. Although the twist might have been obvious, it didn’t matter. The pacing and the dialogue meant the plot didn’t hinge on this ‘moment’. It felt like proper family viewing. Plus Yasmin Finney was superb, even if her pro-trans speech was a red rag to the anti-woke part of the fandom. I hope she comes back at some point; perhaps a new role at UNIT beckons?

The second episode was more of a slow burn. The building blocks of the mystery took a while to be put in place and, as a result, the action delayed. But once it got moving there were some excellent psychological scares. At times it did feel an imitation of ‘Midnight’, one of the greatest episodes of the previous Tennant era. But that is a minor detraction of an otherwise high-quality treat.

I had forgotten Doctor Who could be this good. The doldrums of the past few years where high concepts have overtaken plot appear to have gone. We have, of course, one more special to go and a transition into the next Doctor. This will test Davies’s magic touch. But I’m cautiously hopeful. And that is more than I have felt about this show for a while.

Matthew eats… The Woman in the House Across the Street from the Girl in the Window

I hope regular viewers now my willingness to give up on a TV show is low. I stick things out to the end, regardless of quality. I mean, I sat through season 4 of Killing Eve, no mean feat I think you would agree. But sometimes I get pushed too far and I have to make that difficult choice.

It just so happened this occurred last night, when me and partner gave The Woman in the House Across the Street from the Girl in the Window a try. Ten minutes in, we were bored and quit, putting on a Superstore instead. So what caused this rapid change of plan?

One of the biggest fundamental flaws was the lack of plot. We have a sad, lonely woman called Anna who is divorced and has a dead daughter. She drinks too much, hallucinates and is scared of the rain. A hot new neighbour moves in, who she falls for. Yet somehow, despite things happening, every scene feels like a set piece rather than a progression of the story. Nothing really connects.

Tone is another problem. This is supposed to be a dark comic satire of psychological thrillers that were all the rage about five years ago. Yet even dark comedy is supposed to be funny, and this just isn’t. It also isn’t clear that this is truly a satire. The tropes of the genre are all there, but never seem to be really mocked. But because it’s meant to be funny, you also don’t get sucked into the drama or thriller side of it. In trying too hard to be a lot, it becomes nothing.

There feels so may ripe opportunities here not taken. It could have been sillier and become the Scream Queens of its genre. Where’s the mockery of middle-class lifestyles, the one-upmanship of suburbia. Maybe if we had stuck it out we would have seen the tropes ripped to shreds, but if after ten minutes you have done nothing but have a woman drink a bottle of wine you are too slow. And when there is so much out there to watch, you can’t afford to be slow.

Matthew eats… Escaping Twin Flames

It’s official: me an my other half have become one of those couples who watch and obsess over Netflix documentaries. We are now constantly trying to find that next hit to rival Don’t Fuck with Cats or Tiger King. It is often a fruitless mission with many that show promise fizzling out after the first ten minutes. But one has recently caught our attention more than others.

Escaping Twin Flames follows former members of the Twin Flames organisation. The ‘cult’ was founded on the premise that everyone had a twin flame and that by practicing self-love and wellness your true love will emerge. In fact, you may already have it in that person you are obsessing over but doesn’t quite love you back. Most importantly, if you haven’t got them to love you, it’s because you don’t love yourself.

There is of course a sinister dark side to this. In fact, it is hard to see the light side. Members are encouraged to stalk those who they seek a relationship with who are unavailable. That when you have your man (and the members seem to be nearly exclusively women) to allow him to have sex with you whenever he wants and be submissive to him. That even if you aren’t actually attracted to them, that they fact they have shown interest in you means you belong together. And always, always, tell everyone how it was Twin Flames that brought you together.

After part one we have met those who have revealed a lot of their story and others who are just beginning to. We even know of those who, at least so far, seem to still be in the organisation (although how willing this is unknown). Families who have lost members to this group are left to tell their stories. Because, yes, family disapproval is what is stopping you finding true love, so you must disconnect with them.

It says a lot about our modern age that wellness is the prevailing theme in many modern cults. Not only that, but the internet has actually made it easier for such groups to flourish. No need to have everyone locked in a building, just persuade them that their bedroom on their laptop is the only place they feel safe. And, as with so many, it is women who are the victims. I would love to know why – as a man I don’t feel it is my place to guess.

Hopefully, this unfolds perfectly. We don’t see the end of the group, as it is still going, but to sense a downfall is coming would be delicious. Faux-spirituality is the scourge of our era. Let’s take it down one insane cult at a time.

Ru Paul’s Drag Race UK

I don’t think I have ever felt so nervous about the return of a TV programme in a long time. The stinker that was season three of Ru Paul’s Drag Race Down Under left me fearing the franchise was beginning to die and that the talent had ran dry.

Thankfully it was totally unfounded. Series five of Drag Race UK feels like it could join the upper echelons along with that unicorn of a series 2. But what has made it work?

Firstly, and most obviously, the line up is strong. Right now there are six left and there are still three real contenders plus a couple of dark horses, and even the current weakest on recent form isn’t out of the running. There is definitely strength in depth here. You have natural comedic talent, highly skilled performers and some genuinely stunning looks, and most queens can at least tick two of the above three boxes.

The confessionals have also been gold along with the repartee between the queens. In both categories, Ginger Johnson (current frontrunner) and Kate Butch (one of the dark horses) are stealing moments. Highlights for the former include her deadpan reaction to Cara Melle’s shock at being in the bottom two after one challenge (Cara: I thought I did fine. Ginger: Ru didn’t think so. Cara: Well I didn’t do that bad. Ginger: Yes you did *evil chuckle begins*). For Kate, you are spoilt for choice between her back and forth with the producers, her creation of Linda the non-shitting horse and her response to Cara Melle (yes her again) trying to read her by saying she looks like Robin Williams. Kate: Cara also has something in common with Robin Williams, in that neither of them are telling jokes right now.

Meanwhile, Michael Marouli is stealing the looks game, always going to the next level. But they also have the aforementioned comedy and performance chops, and seem to be very likeable. We haven’t seen a lip sync, but if they can do it, well, they are the full package.

Any complaints? Well, it seems obvious despite my love of her that Kate Butch will not be allowed to win. Already the all too obvious narrative of ‘she isn’t growing’ has started and even her praise is being heavily mitigated. It is a clear machination to make her exit in the next few episodes obvious. Hopefully I am wrong as she is my favourite and pure joy. And on the plus side, leaves room for an All-Stars or Vs the World return.

But yes, this is truly wonderful as a series. My enthusiasm has returned and I await every episode with baited breath. Let’s hope it can keep up this form.