Why I No Longer Watch Big Brother

Whenever the UK Big Brother season began, I used to be glued to my television set every day of the run. I’d watch the whole range of Big Brother programmes, the main show, Big Brother’s Little Brother, Big Brother’s BigMouth, and my favourite, Big Brother’s Big Brain, which was the psychologists’ take on what had been happening inside the house.

My day simply wasn’t complete without my fill of Dermot or the lovely Russell Brand at his most outrageous self discussing his winkle and tormenting that poor, innocent puppet, Little Paul Scholes. I loved tuning in to see what the contestants were up to, who was flirting with who, who wasn’t pulling their weight in the tasks, who was playing a cunning game, winding up their opponents then standing back and waiting for the sparks to fly.

Now, though, my television set remains resolutely off and I find I suddenly have a lot more time to do other things, like write this article. Yes, I have been cured of my Big Brother habit – possibly for ever – and I didn’t even have to go to rehab.

So why did I give up watching?

I think bit by bit, the programme-makers have removed all the things that I enjoyed the most about the whole Big Brother experience. Dermot O’Leary, who was once so funny and witty, had been looking more and more jaded until by the last series he seemed to be just going through the motions, although his show did have sudden flashes of brilliance. I loved it when viewers came into the studio on a Sunday lunchtime to play or sing their own versions of the Big Brother theme music. I think my favourite was the string quartet, who were really rather good.

And Big Brother’s Big Mouth was hilarious. Predictable like a pantomime, but all the more fun for that. Russell really seemed to get the audience fired up in their discussions, but what I loved was the genius of his monologues. Hew as so off the wall! I used to laugh till I cried.

Of course, it was the psychologists’ programme that justified the viewing habits of us reality TV junkies. This wasn’t just reality TV. In the words of Maureen Lipman on the BT ads, “we’d got an -ology.” This was science, THE real McCoy, the chance to find out about how people thought and behaved, even if they were rather odd, self-obsessed atypical people with a massive exhibitionist streak.

The “tells”, where housemates were recorded answering Big Brother’s questions in the diary room and the psychologists’ pointed out what their body language revealed they were really thinking, was absolutely fascinating. Someone could bring out a book entitled All I Ever Needed to Know about Body Language I Learnt from Big Brother’s Big Brain. Except they’d have trouble fitting all that on the spine!

But now Dermot has gone, Russell has gone, and the psychologists have gone. What a waste! The researchers must have trawled the length and breadth of Britain to find so many lovely academics with willowy long legs and great heels – and the women weren’t too bad either!

So there isn’t much left really, especially now that the housemates are turning into parodies of themselves.

You know that in any series there is bound to be the flamboyant gay, the mouthy one, the sexy female, the hot male totty, the political one, the token person with a disability or a syndrome. The older housemates who in the past added some interest to the mix seem to have been edged out. Who do we have from the older age group in this series except for Mario, who’s really called Sean and who acts like a twenty-year old anyway?

But what really got me down and forced me to switch off was the constant shouting and bullying. It was so unpleasant, so vile. The housemates hadn’t even been in there for a week when I decided that I just couldn’t abide Alexandra’s tirades against her fellow contestants a moment longer. All that arrogance and aggression was making me feel ill and keeping me awake at night. How on earth any of them managed to stay in the same house as her, I’ll never know! Talk about bad vibes!

So there we are! The end of an era for this particular BB fanatic. It was nice while it lasted. But I, for one, have no wish to flog a dead horse. The show has lost its magic. RIP Big Brother 9.