Neighbourhood watching

As the last few clumps of firework ash slowly drop from the skies over Elstree, Big Brother fans will be contemplating life without their favourite dose of carefully stage-managed 'reality'. After ten years spent dominating the schedules, the front pages of the tabloids, and conversations around the water-cooler, TV junkies are facing an uncertain future.

Or are they? It turns out that Channel 4 has another trick up its sleeve to satiate our hunger for interminable shows about ordinary people - stretching that particular definition to breaking point in the process. 'Seven Days' is a bold new concept in democratic documentary programming, in effect turning editorial control over to the viewers.

Focusing on the lives of the eclectic people of London's Notting Hill, the new show is described as "part-reality show, part-soap and part-documentary." Presumably, the eclecticism might actually involve a slightly more diverse crowd than the well-heeled white faces who exclusively populate the borough in the mind of Richard Curtis.

Ostensibly another long-running show about regular people doing regular things, it promises to make the output of Mike Leigh look like Michael Bay's back catalogue. But what's really different this time, is the role that viewers will play in the ongoing series.

According to executive producer Stephen Lambert, "This programme not only disobeys that conventional reality TV rule, it actively encourages it, through a new interactive part of the show called Chat-Nav." This oddly named function will enable viewers to connect with the show's characters between episodes, "offering advice on dilemmas and decisions they are making in their lives." It's not enough that these people will be suffering the trials and tribulations of every day life in front of a bank of cameras, they'll also have illiterate teenagers from Birmingham advising them on how to handle that big job interview.

Since the show takes place in the 'real world', its participants will also be encouraged to discuss pressing social issues - which hopefully will amount to more than just Katie Price's parenting skills or Gemma Arterton's shorts. Given the current state of debate around current affairs, it's a little ambitious to expect everyday people to get caught up in a heated exchange around matters of "religion, morality and sexuality." If the show's cast are anything like the 'ordinary people' we've seen on Big Brother, we'll be lucky if they know how to boil an egg.

Channel 4 might be trying to convince us that they've selected a fascinating cast of 'real people', but the claim that they "wouldn't think twice about revealing all about their lives" suggests another group of intolerable exhibitionists.

Another issue that may hinder the success of this admittedly bold concept, is the troubling issue of self-awareness. It's now commonplace for anyone leaving a reality show to complain about damning character assassinations planned in the editors' room. As though anyone with more than a few weeks' experience on Avid could misrepresent a mild-mannered university student as a chain-smoking, racist nymphomaniac.

With the show being aired in real time, the participants will be able to see how they're coming across to the general public and adapt their behaviour accordingly. The moment they see how the press is interpreting their behaviour, it's guaranteed that they'll dial those characteristics up to 11, making the fly-on-the-fourth-wall show about as authentic as Balamory.

Lambert might claim that "Seven Days is a new kind of reality, what happens when you take the walls down. In reality shows like Big Brother in the past we have put people in an enclosed space and watched what happened to them. Seven Days is going to break down those walls and break all the normal rules."

Unfortunately, the biggest rule the show looks set to break, is the unwritten one about "Ignore thy neighbour". Modern London life has become so insular that if someone's house caught fire, their neighbours would only intervene to ask them to keep the noise down. If we struggle to care about the people who live on our own street, what makes Channel 4 think we'll give two hoots about someone else's neighbours?

Big Mutha strikes back

Farewell Big Brother, it was nice knowing you. We'll miss your dominance over our summer viewing habits, your ever-fading relevance, and your increasingly obnoxious housemate selections. But most of all, we'll miss Davina.

For over a decade, she's been a regular TV staple, standing on that stage of a Friday night, bellowing into the camera, in an endless procession of unflattering black outfits. She may be responsible for a million broken volume buttons, but she's hard to dislike.

As well as genuinely loving the show that made her a household name, she seems to sincerely care about the contestants, no matter how awful they might appear. It's one of the reasons the nation took her to its heart, even forgiving her for some truly egregious career decisions.

But not everyone is so willing to give Davina the benefit of the doubt - especially the Daily Mail, which is today running a story about her irresponsible approach to parenting.

As a recovering addict, Davina has an obligation to give her kids an honest answer when they ask about drugs. Quite rightly, she feels that telling the truth is the only way to make it believable.

So when her eight-year old daughter Holly asked what drugs feel like, Davina told her "Heroin is so fantastic you’ll want to take it again, then you’ll get addicted, which is horrible." It's not like she gave the kid a burnt spoon to play with.

Unfortunately, her open-minded approach was too much for the Mail, which delighted in reporting on the "furious response" that she drew from David Raynes, head of the National Drugs Prevention Alliance. Although, to be honest, he doesn't sound that furious - he actually described the news as "very worrying".

Another Daily Mail staple (the grieving mother) has also been deployed, this time it's Maryon Stewart, whose daughter died last year after taking GBL. She said "I think that is an outrageous thing for someone to tell their children. It is important to highlight the dangers of drugs, but certainly not to tell someone how wonderful they think they are."

Interestingly, Maryon is "currently advising the government on how to educate children on the danger of drug use." Which is a little odd, given that she doesn't appear to have been too successful in steering her own child away from experimenting with Class As.

That's not intended to sound unkind - just to acknowledge the fact that one mother who has lost a child to drug abuse might not be in the best position to lecture other mothers on how they should be bringing up their kids.

Maryon's theory is that "If [Davina] wants to warn her children about drugs, she should be showing them what happens to heroin addicts." But that's the problem - as an ex-heroin user Davina is showing her kids just what does happen to some addicts. They're able to rebuild their lives and forge a successful future. Surely that's worthy of celebration rather than condemnation?

Pointing the finger

If you subscribe to the Richard Littlejohn worldview (and if you do I can recommend some powerful anti-psychotics), you probably think the world's going to hell in a handcart. You take a look at the youth of today, and you see a general lack of respect, work ethics and comprehensible dialect.

So whose fault is it? Well, obviously not the parents, because that causes some uncomfortable questions to be asked.

It's much easier to pass the buck and blame someone else. And today's easiest scapegoat is reality TV, particularly Big Brother and I'm A Celebrity...

A recent survey of 800 teachers found that the vast majority feel that reality TV shows have had a negative impact on pupils' behaviour. Reporting on this study, the Daily Telegraph rather cleverly picked out one quote from Robert Holroyd, Head of Repton School in Derbyshire, who said that "teachers should encourage pupils to watch the news and read quality papers including The Daily Telegraph to provide a reality check."

According to Holroyd, "An increasing number of young people think that celebrity status is available to everyone, usually through television." But I think he's missing the point. The fact is, celebrity (in its current incarnation at least) has indeed been democratised and devalued to the point that people can be elevated to that glittering status simply by remembering to turn up for work.

Thankfully, not all 'reality' shows are in his bad books - he clearly has some time for Britain's Got Talent: "At least that may make children look at their own performance and think 'what would Amanda Holden or Simon Cowell say about me?'"

So fly-on-the-wall shows are bad, but it's OK for young children to spend time worrying about how that notable icon of talent and tenacity, Amanda Holden, might judge them.

After a couple more well-chosen shout-outs for the Telegraph, the article points out that this study follows "research from the Association of Teachers and Lecturers which warned access to inappropriate TV was turning young children into Vicky Pollards." And that's precisely the problem with studies that are quick to place the blame for these kinds of social issues on popular culture.

The reason Vicky Pollard resonated with TV viewers is that, like most comedy grotesques, she represented a painfully familiar truth. Vicky didn't create chav culture, she simply reflected it.

Whether you're blaming faux-documentary formats for unsustainable ambitions for our young people, or using outdates comedy characters to define society's ills, it's clear that reality is in the eye of the beholder.

This is (not) Big Brother

For the last two weeks p0pvulture has been coming to you from Turkey, a country with an abundance of beautiful beaches, friendly people and cheap knock-off fashions. But it seems that the 'CHANNEL of Paris' designer bed linen sets aren't the only fakes on offer.

It was reported today that nine women were recently rescued from a 'Big Brother' type reality show here in Turkey, having claimed that they were being held against their will. The problem is, the show was a fake, and rather than having their exploits broadcast on TV, they were shown on a fee-paying adult website instead.

Tasked with a variety of challenges that involved fighting or dancing with each other in very little clothing, the women were apparently unaware that the show's viewers were only tuning in for five or six minutes at a time. The website's producers have responded by stating that no crime has been committed, and the women simply got bored and wanted to avoid the penalty for breaking their contract.

Although reports seems to differ in terms of how the raid came about, Turkish military police stormed the villa and 'rescued' the women who cried with relief. One girl's mother has spoken to the press already, saying "We were not after the money but we thought our daughter could have the chance of becoming famous if she took part in the contest, but they have duped us all."

It's hard to know who to believe here. Certainly, the producers were duplicitous by casting a TV show but actually running a website. But none of the women seem too troubled by the actual content that was generated in the house. They were also told they'd be denied contact with the outside world, which is a standard stipulation of any Big Brother show. So where's the harm?

In the relentless pursuit of fame, people have to make all kinds of sacrifices and dodgy deals to get what they want. Sometimes they pay off and other times there are hidden costs to contend with. But after the disaster that was year 10 of Big Brother UK, these unwitting housemates can at least take comfort in the fact that someone was watching. Even if they were only doing it one-handed.

Who's watching Big Brother?

After a decade spent dominating the tabloids and gossip magazines, it seems like the sun is finally setting on Endemol's most popular show. It was announced today that next year's Big Brother will be the last to appear on Channel 4. Surprisingly, Five, Sky and ITV2 have already come forward to announce they won't be picking up the contract for the fly-on-the-wall reality institution.

With ratings at an all-time low, Channel 4 director of television Kevin Lygo has said that '... the programme has reached a natural end point on Channel 4 and it's time to move on.' It seems that watercoolers up and down the country are playing host to a new set of conversations that don't involve a houseful of fame-seeking wannabes.

The rot began to set in back in 2007, when Celebrity Big Brother was marred by the race row around Shilpa Shetty. Although the ratings shot up, with people unable to look away from the drama imploding on-screen, it was clear that the format was not infallible. Attempts to refresh the concept saw Channel 4 create Big Brother: Celebrity Hijack - which proved about as appealing as John Craven's bukake Newsround.

This latest series has been notable only for the number of housemates who've given up and walked out early. Some of the more recent additions spent so little time in the house it seemed as though they'd left before their introductory VT had even finished playing.

Big Brother himself has taken the news particularly hard, taking his anger out on the unwitting (and witless) housemates. Having been told that they were boring and needed to spice things up, the remaining inmates decided to break into the camera runs, only to then find out that they had forfeited the £100,000 prize as a result.

Despite the fact that TV audiences have already moved on, the summer will no doubt feel very different without Marcus Bentley's tongue-in-cheek Geordie narration, or Davina stomping around in a black dress, bellowing like an insane bag lady. So let's be thankful for ten years of drunken fights, flirtations and fumblings. Not to mention one ex-housemate's impressive impersonation of a bottlebank.

Sadly Big Brother, you have been evicted.

And finally...

Saffia can't see the good in anyone. She says she doesn't want to know anything about you. Oh the irony! She's a qualified dental nurse which makes her quite brainy. I don't think Jade got that memo. She's combed her hair into a strange ridge at the front, which makes her look like a background alien on Babylon 5.

Davina's starting to sound a bit bored. She's not alone.

Sree is dressed by his parents, and is studying for an MBA. He may find himself wanting for intellectual engagement over the coming months. He's decided to wear a Union Jack shirt, which will really annoy the BNP. So that's Sree to win then.

Siavash is Mike Myers' Love Guru with a pierced lip. He dresses like a lunatic in a charity shop and could get work as Aslan's stunt double. I'd like to see him shaved and sacrificed on an altar too.

Shock result - three likeable housemates

Sophia is made out of June Sarpong's spare skin and is very giddy. However, she seems perky and sweet, and has set the record for the least offensive pre-house interview ever. And now the screaming starts which means the volume goes down and the Nurofen comes out.

Rodrigo is Brazilian and quite cute, but when he sits in a chair he looks like he's missing a ventriloquist. He's bisexual, Christian and a fan of checked shirts. His jeans are very tight.

Charlie is a man whore with blue eyes and eyebrows that he borrowed from Vanilla Ice. He's gay and seems very happy about that. He made a bone joke and is a former Mr Gay Newcastle. He's nice looking but I can't imagine that was a heavily contested title.

More, more, more

Angel is a Russian boxer who looks like Isabella Rossellini playing an angry lesbian. She got out of the limousine dressed as the child-catcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, and the crowd have welcomed her with the warmth that they'd show Harold Shipman. Apparently, she'd like to be stuck in a lift with John Lennon, although I'd like to see her in a lift with Yoko Ono. Then cut the cable. She loves the crowd, but I'm sorry to say it's not mutual.

Karly thinks she's a bitch and I'm not going to argue. She describes herself as intelligent and powerful and she's used to getting her own way. Imagine Fiona Phillips dressed as a slut and doing a bad impression of Lorraine Kelly. Apparently she once dated a Scottish third division footballer - so I guess Colleen's job is safe for a while. Somewhere a pole is missing its dancer.

Marcus fits windows and has grown facial hair to look like Wolverine. He says that his arse and the souls of his feet are out of bounds. I'm afraid that's not an exhaustive list as far as I'm concerned. He's the sort of man usually seen drinking milky tea out of a polystyrene cup behind a static caravan.

Here's Beinazir. She's Amy Winehouse crossed with Narinder, and she's taking 149 pieces of jewellery into the house, presumably by wearing them all at once. Mr T would tell her to go easy. She seems to be boycotting hairbrushes for political reasons and looks like Christy Brown applied her eyeliner.

Hello Sophie

Here's sexy model Sophie. She's a poor man's Denise Van Outen and she's got boobs that are bigger than her head (they're also fuller than her head). She makes Paris Hilton look like Michel Foucault. She has a tiny little air-dog that she dresses in little pink outfits. The RSPCA have been notified.

Kris makes shops look pretty for a living. He's got bird's nest hair and trousers that he stole from Russell Brand. He might be quite attractive if he didn't have the personality of a bag of wet sand. Sophie's already eyeing him (and the inevitable OK magazine coverage) up.

Noirin thinks she's gorgeous and she may have a point. She lives her life according to the ten commandments. Apart from loving herself, being vainer than Snow White's stepmum and showing off her flange in a nightclub. She has very pretty blue shoes. Oh dear - first upset of the night as Sophie sees her 'hottest housemate' profile starting to slip. Poor thing.

Cairon seems like a slightly less annoying (and slightly more American) Science. He fancies himself as something of a street philosopher, and he hates back-stabbing, two-faced people. Which makes me wonder whether he's in the right show. Time will tell.

PopVulture goes live-ish

Good evening viewers, hope you're all sitting comfortably. Then we shall begin. I thought this would be a fun way of introducing ourselves to the new housemates who are going to be making our lives hell for the next few months. PopVulture - watching fame happen.

Davina's wearing a dress that looks like she threw on a bin bag and then opened an industrial oven. Hasn't affected her shouting though. Tonight's shock reveal (unless you read a newspaper today) is that none of the housemates are 'actual' housemates. They've got to earn their place. That should be fun to watch.

First up, here's Freddie. He's a Tory-voting tosspot in a bearskin hat. He's got a lovely burgundy jacket and he calls himself an entrepreneur - which is easy when you have parents with more money than God. He actually looks like BB3's Geordie fireman Jonny, which is great news for anyone who likes jabbing a pencil in their eye.

Second is unemployed lesbian Lisa. Think Nicola Holt, crossed with Kitten and then contemplate drinking toilet duck.

If this is reality, I'll take the Matrix

It's worth remembering, the day before we launch into a tenth series of Big Brother, that it was actually MTV that first pioneered the notion of the augmented reality documentary series. Originally broadcast in 1992, The Real World brought seven or eight housemates together and then sat back and filmed the fireworks. Interestingly, when the show was originally pitched, there were talks of it being a scripted documentary - real strangers, real people, but pre-prepared story and character arcs for them to play out. The idea was scrapped and the rest is TV history.

Flash forward eight years, and suddenly The Real World felt a little passe. We were all too busy watching the adventures of a crooked banker, a scouse handyman and a lesbian nun. Suddenly, Big Brother was the one to beat and although The Real World kept on ticking (22 seasons in it's still going strong) it lost some of its dynamism.

So we should hardly be surprised that MTV reverted to that original idea of a scripted, staged and meticulously cast 'reality-based' show. The Hills debuted in 2006, and portrayed the adventures of four rich, beautiful twenty-somethings finding their way in Los Angeles. To most people 'finding one's way' means flat-hunting, job interviews and the occasional date. On 'The Hills' it means leaked sex tapes, poorly-received fashion lines and naked picnics with Playboy playmates. The dialogue makes you long for the Brechtian sophistication of Beverly Hills 90210 and its characters display all the appeal of an angry baboon in a sack. Still, the viewers seem to like it, and its stars have been elevated to household names.

Perhaps the most famous are Heidi Montag and Spencer Pratt, the on-off-on-off couple who recently married. They're currently languishing in a Costa Rican hotel, having walked out of 'I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here' on its second day.

Still, the 48 hours they spent in the camp were eventful enough, with Spencer volunteering to be baptised by runt-of-the-Baldwin-litter Stephen and Heidi declaring "My goal is to be a true disciple of Jesus, a Mother Teresa helping the poor and the hungry." Funnily enough, I believe Mother Teresa laid down the original demo vocals for Heidi's single 'Overdosin'. Unfortunately for viewers and masochists alike, Spencer and Heidi found it all a bit too much, and decided to leave, claiming "Super-celebrities don't belong in the jungle. They belong in Hollywood with the paparazzi."

Having already threatened to quit twice during the first day in the camp, the doltish duo finally left the show, only for Spencer to take to Twitter 24 hours later, claiming "I am praying to Jesus to have NBC forgive me and allow Speidi back! The jungle makes you do crazy things." Aside from the fact that deities have busy day jobs and probably aren't too concerned with who's drinking intestine milkshakes on a bush-tucker trial, I'm more concerned with the fact that Pratt feels perfectly comfortable referring to himself and his wife in the third person singular.

My 'Speidi' sense is tingling, I think I'm going to be sick. And I haven't even had to eat any jungle critters...

Down at heel

Poor, poor Chantelle Houghton. All she ever wanted to be was a celebrity. Unfortunately, she was born without any distinguishing characteristics or special talents. She's not even particularly attractive, looking like Paris Hilton in a funhouse mirror. Still, in this day and age, unremarkable mediocrity need not be a barrier to fame. So Chantelle entered Celebrity Big Brother as a non-celebrity, and emerged the biggest celebrity of all, simply by virtue of not being a celebrity. Honestly, it's all so meta it hurts.

Whilst inside the Big Brother compound she fell in Love (copyright OK Magazine) with Preston from the Ordinary Boys, and was soon engaged. Unfortunately, the marriage lasted about as long as mayonnaise on a warm afternoon. Chantelle picked herself up and did what any heartbroken divorcee would do, she got a ridiculous boob-job and painted herself orange. Thankfully, Cupid was only taking a quick comfort break and soon Chantelle was back in a serious (worth talking about to the glossies) relationship. With a footballer no less. Sadly, this wasn't to be either, as she gave Jermain Defoe the red card last month after spotting a picture of another girl on his mobile phone. They'd been together four and a half months - do they make a card for that?

Anyway, she's seen the error of her ways. She told the News of the World "Expensive shoes don't make you happy, they really don't." Wise words indeed. "Most of these WAGs used to have nothing and now have their expensive bags, tans and outfits." Good lord, it's like Germaine Greer with a double D-cup. Apparently, to Chantelle, monogamy and trust are where it's at. And yet... "One day they'll wake up as a 40-year-old and think: 'I've got a whole house of Louboutins and Jimmy Choos but I'm not happy'." Now, isn't this a case of the 'lady' (sorry, mean) protesting too much? The fact that she has to go back and list the specific shoe brands she has in mind, suggests that she's missing the platform peep-toes more than the guy who bought them for her.

Still, she's emerged from the experience older and wiser, vowing to turn her back on the WAG lifestyle. I'm sure it's just a matter of time before Medicins Sans Frontiers' phone starts ringing.