The writing on the wall

Imagine the scene at some BBC committee meeting. The Chief Officer for Commissioning, Unit Programming is setting out the problem. ‘Gentlemen, recent controversies — the Ross/Brand phone calls, the ongoing problem of Ross’s £6 million annual salary, which is more than the entire budget for a year of the Today programme, our own excessive pay and expenses — have brought mistrust and contempt on our management, which not even the record number of Emmys for Little Dorrit has erased. We urgently need to reclaim the moral and cultural high ground. Any suggestions?’

Up pops an underling: ‘Why don’t we bring back Hole in the Wall?’

COCUP: ‘Ah yes, the programme which brought almost universal scorn from the critics, who complained that it was tedious, childish, unredeemed garbage and called it Hole in the Head. Even Dale Winton — Dale Winton of Supermarket Sweep! — has jumped ship. And the first series became a running gag on TV Burp, when Harry Hill said Lord Reith must be turning in his grave. It was an object of derision on ITV1, of all channels, on a show which had 50 per cent higher audiences. So it clearly ticks all our boxes.’

Well, something like that must have happened because Hole in the Wall is back, Saturday nights on BBC1, as tacky and flimsy as its Styrofoam walls. The new host is a person called Anton Du Beke, who confuses shouting a lot and showing his teeth with charisma. ‘Good evening, Wall-lovers!’ he cries, an oxymoron like ‘Velveeta connoisseurs’. The ‘celebrities’ who appear include people who used to be almost well known, people you’ve never heard of and an underwear model with a troubled past.

If you haven’t ever seen Hole (and most sane people haven’t) the slebs are dressed in lycra.