Printer friendly output:
Bits and Pieces
The Fight Network: All Fights All The Time is the channel’s almost irresistible proposition, and while during the day this is taken care of by re-runs of wrestling matches from World Of Sport in the 1970s and ‘80s - pasty-faced English dough balls kneading each other’s flesh in Dudley Civic Hall before an audience of grim-faced crones and Brylcreemed spivs. (I know memory plays tricks, but I am sure the Seventies were never quite that beige) - in the late evening the network provides what it fondly imagines to be more colourful, racier, programming.
By this, of course, it means women fighting each other, sometimes Japanese women, sometimes Americans, and, for that niche audience with an interest in Lithuanian women wrestling in honey, Amberlady Honey Wars. This is not a great programme, but whatever else you say about it, it does provide a genuine alternative to Newsnight.
Bikinied Lithuanian women, competing under names like Jungle Girl and Bronze Thumbelina, slide around in an inflatable paddling pool half full of honey, and pretend to fight. They tend to be more lithe than the American girls fighting under the Women’s Extreme Wrestling banner, and I think it is safe to assume the chief attraction for its somewhat specialist audience is the possibility of one of the combatants losing her top.
Do not hold your breath, would be my advice. The warning that precedes the female fight shows on the network – “The following programme contains violence, sexuality, nudity, and coarse language. Viewer discretion is advised.” – serves a similar purpose to those newspaper bills you used to see proclaiming “Famous Film Star Dies,” only to discover on buying the paper it was some no-mark who played Robert Mitchum’s best friend in a B-movie in the 1940s.
The most shocking thing you are likely to see in Amberlady Honey Wars is guys with unfeasibly wide lapels in the audience smoking, although I was more outraged at the criminal waste of honey.
At a time when the honey bee is an endangered species, threatening us with ecological disaster, and you can barely find a jar of decent stuff in the shops, to have young women, however lithe, sloshing around in bathtubs of it, seems profligate in the extreme. Not at all erotic either. As Sky commentator Stevo said yesterday morning about England’s performance in the rugby league World Cup, “We needed fireworks, but so far it has been a bit of a damp squid.”
Finally, on the subject of television turning out to be not as advertised, Dermot O’Leary promised Saturday’s X-Factor would “quite literally be murder on the dance floor.” Disappointingly, it quite literally was not.
© Copyright martinkelner.com