Avoid. Avoid. Avoid.
The iPlayer chronicles continue. I awoke this morning at an hour far, far too small for my liking, needing dry, white toast and painkillers washed down with last night’s Fosters. So, my traditional early morning couldn’t be the Horizon episode I had pulled up. No. It was time for Snog Marry Avoid?, a show that, had it been made by ITV or Channel 4, it would have been an inspirational show, a we’re-all-in-it-together perkfest for the sort of people who go to festivals . However, this is the BBC, so this show is specifically to encourage middle-class, low-impact students like me to point and laugh at proles.
The premise is that Ellie Taylor rounds up a few mooing, orange walking hair extensions, and throws them to POD, a machine that only understands “Natural Beauty”, who verbally abuses them until they agree to commit to it’s (her?) regime of industrial make-up remover, ritual burning of all fake tan mitts and the quiet, brutal death of dissidents (probably). It’s like What Not To Wear meets RoboCop and I love it. I keep waiting for POD, with her perky, accusatory tone, and the one ropy CGI shot of her peering lens, to turn into Hal from 2001: A Space Odyssey. Ellie Taylor would suddenly come to her senses and slowly begin to dismantle POD, while the machine would calmly, gently beg her to stop. Then cut her throat on the scissors usually reserved for removing particularly stubborn hair extensions. You know, in the episode I watched, POD called someone disgusting. And they just took it. I think this, if nothing else, shows that you can say anything to anyone as long as you pretend to be doing them a service. That’s right. Now suck my cock, you disgusting, puny prole, and we’ll have you sorted out with a capsule wardrobe in no time.
The contestants (victims?) are the making of the show. Almost exclusively edited to look like blistering idiots who are completely baffled as to why all the CGI floaty graphics aren’t there, the show takes a sadistic delight in pissing all over their fashion taste, their make-up, their looks, their hair, their ambitions. It’s all topped off with a reassuringly inspirational sequence where their family all weep for joy and POD presumably frigs herself to electronic orgasm as she tells them how “beautiful” they look.
And they never bloody do.