Identical twin brother
On the promise of a different Big Brother, I was one of the few people who tuned in to that tired old bastard of a share house on Sunday night.
The first housemate went in. Blonde, dumb, a lawyer, badly straightened hair. So far, so same. Didn’t they have a housemate of that description a few years ago, who went on to realise that Ralph magazine spreads were more important than her (cough) legal career?
Of the other housemates, there’s a non-drinking Mormon who dresses like she’s going for a reception job at Australian Women’s Weekly, a bunch of guys who are indistinguishable (except for the short, silent dark-haired one) and lots of slappers. So, apart from the teetotallin’ Mormon, it’s business as usual, I reckon.
Seriously, if they really wanted to shake it up they’d take a leaf out of the UK show producer’s tree. Put someone with Tourette’s in, add a little suicidal drag queen, shake in some sex-mad footy fans and stir. Then insert a couple of women who don’t like wearing tops for good measure. At least then you know it’s aiming at the lowest common denominator.
As it is, it’s a shocker, and it’s not surprising that the opening night had the lowest ratings of any opening night in the Big Brother Aussie history books. As vacant-expressioned idiot after vacant-expressioned idiot chatted about how they were going to be themselves and um, just have fun, I sank further and further into TV depression.
And anyway, where are the gays? With honorary gay Tim Brunero the most memorable figure to leave the house in recent years, and the gay farmer slash model giving the series its only non-sexual-assault-related headlines last year, you’d think they were onto a winner.
But no. The closest thing they’ve got is a guy with a long T-shirt, and everyone knows that’s not only Oxford twink fashion any more. George Orwell could never have imagined such a dull future.
