Queen walks out - I wouldn't blame her

By Blog on the Box on Nov 27, 07 10:05 AM in

It was billed as an exceptional insight into the work of the Queen and other members of the Royal Family.

At least that's what it was supposed to be. In reality the Beeb's new series Monarchy had more zzzzzzzs than the Toon Army watching Newcastle v Liverpool.

It was, let's face it, never going to be a hatchet job. Especially after a badly-edited trailer suggested Her Maj had walked out of a photo shoot.

But no-one was prepared for the sheer mind-numbing mediocrity of the thing.

It was boooor-ing, Like those embarrassing what-I-did-on-my-holidays home videos only with higher production values and funded by the tax-payer.

I bet the Queen would have preferred to worm the Corgis rather than watch the TV equavalent of watching paint dry.

The BBC, as if making up for their past mistake, tugged the forelock with a little too much deference. You want us to jump, ma'am, how high? You want us to bow and scrape, ma'am, how low?

I'm not sure the public, outside of the establishment, gives a hoot about a year in the lives of a family who are, arguably, Britain's biggest social security claimants.

But you can fool some of the people all of the time.

The cameras caught some brown-nosing hotel in America claiming the Queen's towels must be brand new and washed three times before being placed on the Royal towel rail.

The Royal bed-linen was the finest Egyptian cotton, also fawningly prepared, before meeting the Royal Nightie and Royal Jim Jams.

And don't get me started on the Royal Toilet Paper. No doubt it had to be the very best for the Royal Bottom.

This first of five programmes was simply about Royal Flunkies ordering people about as the Queen and Phil went on a trip to the USA.

We were promised insights into the Royal Family. What we got was a few practiced smiles from the Queen as she forced herself through a meeting with yesterday's man Tony Blair, an old woman at the races, and lots of olde-worlde pageantry that serves to keep the common man in his place.

There was even some flunky at an "intimate" dinner for dozens of VIPs at Buck House, showing guests the Royal art collection, boasting about how much of it was nicked.

That's nicked, folks, as in stolen from the previous owners in historic times. Someone call Scotland Yard.

I won't be tuning in again.