Is That Your Final Answer?
The golden age is over. No longer can the British people settle into their sofas and brim with excitement as they defeat all challengers. No longer can we scream the right answers at the unhearing, pixellated ears of smart-casual ignoramuses. That's right - the quiz show is dead.
We've all rushed into the kitchen, on a quiet night in, to inform parental onlookers of our new personal best of twelve on University Challenge, we all aspire to bag the non-existent million in the Daily Mail's 'Millionaire - how would you fare?' questionnaire or smirked smugly as we note that we could have, with some cunning banking, achieved the big one-triple-zero on The Weakest Link. The genre's appeal lies purely in the questions. It seems so simple. How then, I wonder, can the unimaginative pilot-makers have slipped up so catastrophically with the new breed of quiz show?
Early this vac, in the search for relaxation, I turned to the solace of television only to be met by two monstrosities. First was ITV's 24 Hour Quiz - a sort of Big Brother meets The Weakest Link. Each day challengers line up for their chance to enter the Quiz Pod, in which three wannabe genii eat, sleep and "live the quiz", accumulating cash by answering multiple choice questions.
The concept is littered with flaws. Firstly I don't care whether the polytechnic student, the middle-aged housewife or the aspiring model-cum-actress wins (although I'd lean towards the latter). I simply want to demonstrate their stupidity by scornfully correcting their mistakes, yet we are shown only a fleeting handful of the questions, and are forced to endure their conversations and awakenings by the "quiz-master" at 7.15am. Then, of course, the questions are dire. "What horsey sport is Prince Charles associated with? A)Bronco-bucking B) Polo or C) Donkey-derby?" They could have at least provided us with a grammatically correct moronic question! Finally, the host is none other than "that-Barry-off-of-that-Eastenders," who is, out of interest, considerably fatter and balding at a rate of knots. He's no Bob Holness, by anyone's standards.
Imagine my lack of surprise then, to discover two weeks later, that the celebrity special was no more exhilarating. Highlights included Cheryl Baker clad in a pink dressing gown and minus make-up, struggling to discern the author of Animal Farm, and an unknown Page Three girl discussing life without daylight. It was left to a rare glimpse of Jeremy Beadle's withered hand to rescue the show. I rest my case!
To add to my discontent, later in the same evening I came across the BBC's Didn't They Do Well, hosted by Bruce Forsyth. The programme's billing as "a nostalgic celebration of all things quiz" was a promising start. After the obligatory "Please welcome your host", Brucie (the old swinger) set things rolling with a reworking of his notorious catchphrase: "Nice to quiz you, to quiz you..." NICE.
The programme pits competitors against questions from an array of the greatest quiz shows ever: Mastermind, University Challenge, A Question of Sport (alas, no Blockbusters or Going for Gold - there's just no accounting for taste).
Unfortunately, it falls as flat as Mr Forsyth's opening line. To win, it would appear, one does not need a general knowledge, merely a good memory and an extremely sad life spent in front of quiz shows.
Admittedly I am being a little cynical, yet instead of revelling in the supremacy of its predecessors the programme is left crushed in their wake: it lacks the humour of A Question of Sport and the intimidation of Mastermind, replacing them with 'end of pier show/ Bingo hall' cringe-worthiness and the comforting tones of an AA meeting - rather like The Generation Game. Even Magnus and Monkhouse couldn't save this one.
As the witty, pointed styles of They Think It's All Over, Have I Got News For You and Never Mind The Buzzcocks continue to thrive, and surpass the straight game show, I urge you to say a prayer for their forefathers. Add your handful of earth to the mound and hope for a resurrection of Bob "Lord of the Hexagons" Holness. Hell, even Jim Davidson would be an improvement.
29th Apr 2004