ITV2 has given journalism the Apprentice treatment in a bid to find Britain’s Next Top Journo – someone who’s Got Britain’s Talent and the X-Factor all rolled into one.
What’s not to like about a programme that gives six pre-packaged twits the opportunity to interview, to write and stuff? Well it’s not that it’s unfair for those of us who are plugging away with little hope of anyone reading our efforts unless it’s scrawled in a birthday card. I can live with that. I’d have to brush my hair if I was going to be on TV. And I’m not sure where my hairbrush is.
No, what’s truly shit is now we’re all going to be tarred with the same brush. People will watch The Exclusives and think that all wannabe journalists or writers are arseholes. Well THAT is unfair. Because we’re no more arsehole-ish than the rest of the population. And certainly a lot less arsehole-ish than the Exclusives’ contestants – carefully chosen to fit gameshow/reality TV pigeonholes. We have the posh one, the unemployed “it’s my last chance because I’m 28 and as we all know nobody ever succeeds at 29″ one. The ex page three girl who wants to be taken seriously, but still wants all the men to think she’s fit. The super dooper journo extraordinaire who couldn’t get a job out of uni and has ended up a barmaid. The gobby one. The boring one.
This week’s episode saw the hopefuls doing a feature for Kerrang! – further evidence that there is no establishment that stands firm against industry prostitution.
I could natter on about how awful it all is. But I must dash – got to fill in my application for a spin of series, The Reclusives. Six reclusive web reviewers battle it out for the ultimate prize: – a thousand twitter followers and a sausage roll from Greggs.
Review by Becky Shepherd