Infection of woke pox has destroyed the Baftas – the fact no white man has won Rising Star award since 2017 proves it
EVERY awards season, at least one host issues a warning to the winners that’s so pointless and ritualised David Tennant might as well perform it dressed as Black Rod.
“Keep your speeches nice and short.”
It’s not hard, is it, ladies and gentlemen.
Yet every year one person ignores the host completely and detonates the ceremony with a display of such monstrous self-indulgence the rest of the country spends the following day asking: “Did you see that crazy woman at the Baftas?”
This year it was Best Supporting actress Zoe Saldana, for Emilia Perez, who was already heaving with the enormity of her achievement when she thanked her dialect coach and was a proper hyperventilating mess by the time she got round to acknowledging her make-up artist, who was described has having “the highest class of insanity, integrity and uncritical love for her craft”, which, I think, was a good thing.
Fell off a cliff
If Zoe’s histrionics had been the only thing that blighted Sunday evening on BBC1, I would, of course, have a much easier relationship with the Baftas and might even think the ceremony was worth broadcasting.
But that was never likely to be the case, even if the occasion did get off to a hell of a start when host Tennant led the whole Royal Festival Hall in a brilliant chorus of 500 Miles, which never fails to get me jiving around like an utter pillock.
From which point onwards? The event fell off a cliff.
Partly, this was unavoidable and bound to happen from the moment Bafta released a shortlist of nominees that was so drab and worthy I couldn’t find a single film among them that I’d pay to watch or even be paid to watch.
But it’s also the responsibility of its personnel, starting with David Tennant, whose opening monologue avoided anything too topical or edgy, like Blake Lively and Justin Baldoni, in favour of having some easy digs at Donald Trump, which got the usual whoops of agreement just as surely as there’d have been gasps of disapproving shock if he’d targeted genuine tyrants like Vladimir Putin, Hamas or Kim Jong Un.
Bafta is utterly at ease with its own political bias and hypocrisy, of course, so it’ll surprise no one the cult of woke has all but destroyed the credibility of the organisation.
To such an extent, in fact, that no white man has won the Rising Star award since 2017 and they’ve even become something of a rarity on the shortlist of nominees since the turn of the decade.
Similarly, it’s only a smart idea to list previous winners of the prestigious Bafta Fellowship honour, like “Sir Laurence Olivier, Dame Judi Dench and Martin Scorsese”, if this year’s recipient isn’t Tenable host Warwick Davis, as people won’t necessarily draw the conclusions you want.
The woke pox is a relatively new development, obviously, as is the curse of the bantering award presenters, like Chiwetel Ejiofor and Leo Woodall, who come on and act like a pair of conceited jerks, exchanging carefully scripted put-downs, rather too convincingly for anyone’s total comfort.
It’d help if these routines ever had a punchline, obviously. But they don’t.
For as well as being unforgivably pompous, vain, self-absorbed, hypocritical, thick and egotistical, the Baftas is an entirely humourless event, especially about itself and “the transformative ray of joy” that the rest of us know as movie making.
It’s more pathetically starstruck than all of the tabloids it clearly hates as well, with a perverse, hierarchical sense of priorities that allowed it to forget the deaths of Brian Murphy and Timothy West, during its obits section, but put Hugh Grant front and centre of everything, except the one time his presence was genuinely required.
Chiwetel and Leo bantering about Bridget Jones? The camera panned to Hugh.
Adrien Brody won the Best Actor award? The camera panned to Hugh.
David Tennant talked about movie villains? The camera panned to Hugh.
Best Actress Mikey Madison, from Anora, said: “I want to take a moment to recognise the sex worker community.” The camera panned to anyone except Hugh.
What the hell, Bafta?
Unexpected morons in the bagging area
THE Weakest Link, Romesh Ranganathan: “In expressions, according to the proverbial saying, a broth is spoiled if there are too many what?”
Lorraine Stanley: “Lips.”
Celebrity Mastermind, Clive Myrie: “Aintree racecourse is on the outskirts of which city in North West England?”
Kae Kurd: “Gloucester.”
Impossible, Rick Edwards: “Which American singer had UK hits including The Twist and Let’s Twist Again?
A) Fats Domino, B) Chubby Checker . . . ”
Oli: “C) Stout Tiddlywink.”
Random TV irritations
THE BBC neglecting to mention its latest Palestinian propaganda film Gaza: How To Survive A Warzone was narrated by a Hamas official’s son.
The Apprentice, Dancing On Ice and Love Island: All Stars all requiring a long-overdue visit to the television knacker’s yard.
And that irony-busting moment at Sunday’s Baftas when host David Tennant, of all people, accused another group (bookworms) of being: “Smug.” Doctor, heal thyself.
KHRAP LOTUS TWEAKS
SKY Atlantic’s eagerly-awaited third series of The White Lotus, set in Thailand, finally arrived this week along with the first few signs that this much-loved American drama may be suffering from a hint of arrogance and complacency.
They’ve dicked around with the theme tune, for a start, a dumb move that’s always guaranteed to alienate long-standing fans.
But there’s also a horribly jarring performance from Parker Posey as Victoria Ratliff, the southern matriarch, and a howling continuity error on the half hour mark when Laurie, the insecure member of the female holidaymaking trio, magically acquires a hat, sunglasses and shoulder bag while trotting along her hotel balcony.
The plot is now brutally familiar to everyone except some of the old faces, like Belinda and Greg, who keep turning up to White Lotus resorts despite the fact that someone always gets killed at the end of the first week.
I’ll overlook all these issues for the moment, though, because it remains the most beautifully shot drama on television and is written with such love and skill it demands your total attention for the duration of every episode.
The White Lotus is surprisingly educative as well, teaching me that the local expression in Ko Samui for hello is “sawatdee khrap” and the Thai shorthand for bald white men who go on holiday to the Far East, “LBH”, is harsh but a lot less defamatory than the conclusions we’ve probably drawn about them.
“Losers Back Home”.
(The White Lotus, Sky Atlantic, Monday, 9pm).
AND one final announcement from the Bafta subtitling department: “The bathtub goes to . . . Conclave.”
TV names of the week are all culled from Sky Atlantic’s third series of The White Lotus, set in Thailand, where, according to the credits, the Government Liaison was Songporn “Tammy” Musigdilok, the SFX Senior Technician was Apichat Singpoo, the On Set Dresser was Wissanu “Ton” Nobnorb and the Best Boy Grip was Richard Arnold.
Great sporting insights
Clinton Morrison: “Man City won’t dominate like they will do.”
Aaron Paul: “It was a pinpass point.”
Paul Merson: “Sometimes too much time isn’t enough.”
(Compiled by Graham Wray)
GREAT TV lies and delusions of the month. The Apprentice, Carlo: “This is not the last you’re gonna see of Carlo Brancati.”
Love Island: All Stars, Maya Jama: “If you’re looking for good news, we’ll be back in the summer.”
Big Show, Michael McIntyre: “She’s one of the funniest and funnest people on television, who doesn’t love Judi Love?”
Ahem. Neither funny nor fun, but undeniably ON television.
TV GOLD
LIGHT entertainment at its brilliant best with Michael McIntyre’s absolutely priceless Unexpected Star slot featuring Shirley Ballas and Randy the accountant.
Walton Goggins’ menacingly brilliant performance as Rick Hatchett on The White Lotus.
Lee Mack putting Diane Carson’s out-of-control Traitors ego back in its box on BBC1’s Would I Lie To You, after she said: “Next time, I want to be on David’s team.”
“Woah woah woah. Next time?”
And Bradley Walsh’s hugely under-rated introductions on The Chase, which are funnier and edgier than anything I’ve seen on 19 series of Live At The Apollo: “Is it The Governess? The one time you’d believe Shaggy when he said ‘It wasn’t me’.”
TELLY quiz. Who was being discussed here on BBC1’s Wynne & Joanna: All At Sea: “She had the body of a pig, had problems with her anal gland and her bottom often smelled of fish?”
A) Joanna Page’s Jack Russell Daisy.
B) Wynne Evans’ Strictly colleague Janette Manrara.
C) Welsh First Minister Baroness Morgan.
Lookalike of the week
THIS week’s winner is Jaime Winstone as a young Peggy Mitchell and Big Bird off Sesame Street.
Sent in by Jason Walsh.
BE Careful what you wish for: Part 372, Wynne & Joanna: All At Sea, Pendine Beach, Wynne Evans: “I just want to be an ice cream man, I just want to do it.”
Two Magnums and a choc ice, please, mate.