I’ve found the worst TV show of lockdown… Celebrity Snoop Dogs is a load of appawling poop

CALL off the dogs. The hunt is over. I think I’ve finally found the worst television programme of lockdown.

Mind you, I thought I’d found it with The Steph Show but that at least was live, from her living room and featured rogue ­neighbours ringing her doorbell for a laugh mid-transmission.

Channel 4

Celebrity Snoop Dogs is the worst television programme of lockdown and it won’t come as a surprise that it’s also broadcast by Channel 4[/caption]

This thing? This thing is Celebrity Snoop Dogs and it probably won’t come as a big surprise to you that it’s also broadcast by Channel 4, who’ve had a dreadful pandemic, in terms of light entertainment and pretty much everything else, except Bez and Shaun Ryder on Celebrity Gogglebox.

They’ve passed the hand grenade and narrating duties here to poor old Kevin McCloud, off Grand Designs, who takes a meandering, pun-filled age to tell us what the hell is actually going on with Celebrity Snoop Dogs, until he finally blurts out: “We’ve strapped cameras to their dogs.”

The show is based heavily on Through The Keyhole, you see, with a labrador or sharpei in the Keith Lemon role. An idea that might have sounded funny, in a drunken Zoom meeting, with the “creatives”, but collapses the moment you see the first dog-cam footage.

Five seconds of low-level barrelling, round Georgia Toffolo’s gaff, you feel queasy. Twenty and you’re probably spray-painting your own walls green, which is why the pets are accompanied everywhere by a camera crew. So what you’ve actually got here, on prime-time, is Dog In An Empty House.

If at this point you’re expecting the guessing game to sustain your interest in Celebrity Snoop Dogs, I have more bad news. On Friday it lasted about as long as it took Kevin to describe the kitchen lighting as “ETERNAL” and the viewers to think “Right then, it’s Louise Redknapp”. Sure enough, ten minutes later: “Hi. I’m Louise Redknapp.”

Not one of the great TV reveals, although it was positively bewitching compared to week one, when Kevin Bridges’ labrador Annie wandered past some football shirts, early on, and the owner was duty bound to point out at the end: “One of them says BRIDGES. So unless you’re a moron, you’d have probably guessed it was me.”

‘Truth be told’

Kevin’s got a point here, I think, and has also identified Channel 4’s target audience. To such an extreme level I reckon even ITV2 might have thought, “It’s a bit beneath us.”

Celebrity Snoop Dogs is beneath almost everyone, truth be told. Although the slightly galling thing for me personally is I appear to be an exception and part of that target audience as I had real problems with week one’s second celebrity, who’s got a lovely house in London and a lhasa apso with an underbite called Charlie, who looks like a Wookiee version of Keira Knightley.

Yes, there were a lot of Strictly Come Dancing clues but no there wasn’t a dog house marked “Vernon”. I was already thinking about the host, though, when Kevin said “Grey drawers compliment the veins of marble” and couldn’t contain myself any longer when he added “It’s an antique clothes hanger”, so I actually shouted: “TESS DALY.”

Sure enough, when the big reveal came, it was confirmed . . .  “Hi, I’m Shirley Ballas.”

A fine woman who, it transpires, rescued Charlie from certain death. “He was about to be euthanised at a dog shelter” in Los Angeles. But instead he’s now starring in Celebrity Snoop Dogs.

I know, I know — swings and roundabouts, Charlie. But you’ll learn to live with Shirley’s decision, eventually.

SPANDAU NO MATCH FOR BROS

BBC

BBC2’s hit-and-miss Spandau Ballet special The Kemps: All True is a proof that a funnier version of the Bros documentary doesn’t work[/caption]

AS soon as the Bros documentary, After The Screaming Stops, became a cult classic, it was inevitable some smart-ass comedian, like Rhys Thomas, would think “I can make an even funnier spoof version.”

You can’t.

And if you ever needed proof, it came in the form of BBC2’s hit-and-miss Spandau Ballet special The Kemps: All True, which got carried away with its own hilarity and forgot the best spoofs remain darkly believable throughout, not just when they’re having a dig at Tony Hadley.

This one also needed a bit less of Rhys’s wife Lucy Montgomery and the Ross Kemp “not that one” character, and far more of Michael Kitchen, doing a brilliant cameo as Spandau’s ex-tour manager, Harvey Stickles and Tony Way playing Rag ’n’ Bone Man, who demanded Quantum.

Finish dishwasher tablets on his backstage rider, “ ’Cos I live in a hard-water area”. No real surprise, of course, Martin was a lot better playing himself than Gary.

The minor revelation, though, was his wife Shirlie, who was either a total natural as the marriage-weary home-counties harridan or the real reason Martin seemed happy to be locked in the Big Brother 10 house.

I’d expect him in the ITV jungle any moment . . .

Great TV lies and delusions of the week

LOVE Island Australia, Justin: “There’s so much more to me than just my good looks.”

Peter Crouch: Save Our Summer, Mel C: “I’ve been watching this show at home and really ­enjoying it.”

Extraordinary People, James Norton: “No one can predict what a boy born with just two per cent of his brain will go on to achieve.”

I can. Secretary of State for Health, a writing credit on The Mash Report, his own show on ITVBe. The world’s your oyster, son.

Unexpected morons in the bagging area

The Chase, Bradley Walsh: “In 2015 Prince Charles and Camilla celebrated how many years of marriage?”

Hope: “50.”

Tipping Point, Ben Shephard: “Which English county is often known by its shortened name Hants?”

James: “Huddersfield.”

And Ben Shephard: “The word ‘mail’ is an ­anagram of which African country’s name?”

James: “Lana.”

Lookalikes of the week

THIS week’s winner is The One Show’s Alex Jones and Debbie from The ­Muppets.

Emailed in by “BJ”.

Picture research: Amy Reading.

That’s how she rolls

 TERRIBLE news on Discovery’s My Strange Addiction last week, for the woman who eats ­pottery 7,000 times a year.

Apparently she’s kiln herself.

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