National Television Awards

Tis’ the season. Award ceremonies are everywhere as the ultimate narcissists congratulate themselves on just how wonderful they are.

I don’t know about you but that’s my idea of a fun night in. I love the red carpet, the utter rubbish people say about how grateful they are for the free booze and their nominations, as well as all the sparkly dresses. However I know that the Americans totally out-do us on the grandeur stakes. For a while I wondered if that was reflective of the differences between American and British television. Can the output of British television really compete? Until the last year or so I can’t say I watched anything British that I thought was must-see television, but I’ve come to change my mind and suddenly have a vested interest in our own award ceremonies. Which brings me to the Bafta’s ugly stepsisters. The National Television Awards.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed it anyway. What with my own snarky inner dialogue entertaining me

Don’t you just love the name? Makes it sound all important. However I suspect it’s just a way for ITV to throw a party that can air fill an evening of telly. The change from Trevor McDonald as host to lovable cheeky chappy Dermot O’Leary really emphasizes the tone the awards is aiming for. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed it anyway. What with my own snarky inner dialogue entertaining me. Shamefully I did find by the end of the night that no matter how ridiculous you consider an award ceremony, if you sit down to watch, before you know it you’re fighting a corner. I knew it meant little and the shows were aimed at an Eastenders loving audience, but I just couldn’t help myself.

Sherlock and Moffat were totally slapped in the face by the choice of Waterloo Road as best drama. What were they thinking? I know which one I would flag up as must see TV and that would be the one without the shiny prize. This is a show that celebrates all awful television out there, best comedy show – Benidorm? Really? Do I even want to know what dross that involves? Did they see the genius of the Inbetweeners? Yes I’m a snob but could we at least celebrate shows with a script and something that didn’t involve a fair number of Bacardi Breezers in its filming? And poor Dr Who and Matt Smith, after four years of dominating a show they both left losers last week and I can’t help but take it as a personal insult. I have of course gotten too involved, forgetting the purpose of the production; that it is not to reward and recognise talent but for the likes of the reality show starlets (ha!) to have a good time. What was I thinking?

Thank God for the Baftas!