I WAS rendered incredulous recently when I read that BBC3 would like to start broadcasting from 3pm rather than 7pm each day. Seeing as they can barely fill their schedules with fresh programming as it is, it seemed like an absurdly over-optimistic w
ish. And seeing as almost all of their yoof-orientated output emerges from below the belt, what are they planning to show during those precious afternoon hours – endless repeats of Two Pints of Lager with all the jokes removed? Actually, they've been doing that for years, haven't they?
Just when you thought their output couldn't get any worse, along comes Personal Affairs, an abysmal comedy/drama produced by BBC Scotland, which doesn't so much wear its influences on its sleeve, as tattoo them on its forehead and run around screaming "these are my influences!". A blatant attempt to ensnare the predominantly female audiences of shows such as Sex and the City, Ugly Betty and Desperate Housewives, it ends up being a hideously awkward fusion of all three. Set in the offices of some plush London banking firm or other, it charts the various tribulations of four glamorous female PAs-cum-bland-archetypes. So we have the cute Scouser who's presumably supposed to be the character we empathise with most, even though she's the sort of vacuous dullard whose only ambition in life is to become famous by winning a TV talent show. This, of course, is clearly what BBC3 imagine their audience demographic to be like, so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. The other women can be conveniently boiled down to: sexy posh one, ditzy blonde one, and weepy posh one.
In part one, sexy posh had sex in a lift with ditzy blonde's husband (naturally, she didn't realise this at the time – these sisters are tight, girlfriend), weepy posh wept a lot and then mysteriously disappeared, ditzy blonde discovered she was pregnant, and cute Scouser revealed that she'd had a baby while in her teens.
This final revelation was announced apropos of nothing, and in helpful expository detail, presumably because writer Gabbie Asher – herself a former PA – couldn't think of another way of inserting it into the narrative. It really is that badly written.
A jumbled mess of styles, it lurches clumsily from whimsical comedy to soapy drama to supposedly dark thriller, often in the space of a single scene. The Stetson-wearing comedy Texan and the lesbian boss in the teetering Marie Antoinette wig appear to have wandered in from a different programme entirely, and the horribly unfunny fantasy sequences just remind you of how awful Ally McBeal was in the first place. The explicit nod to Sex and the City –cute Scouser's broken heel and gleeful pirouette – was obviously supposed to be a self-deprecating admission of influence, but only served to highlight how derivative the whole thing was. And BBC3 want to extend their broadcasting hours to show more of this bilge? They are having, in the most painfully unamusing manner possible, a laugh.
BBC4's new art history series, The Pre-Raphaelites, seemed as though it had been scheduled to present a pointed contrast to its low-brow cousin. This satisfyingly straightforward documentary told the story of the audacious brotherhood of rebels whose art scandalised Victorian Britain. Lively and informative, it couldn't be faulted.
