Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Midsomer Murders

Midsomer Murders

Everybody's got into a tizz recently over the fact that one of the producers of ITV's fun-for-all-the-family murder mystery drama Midsomer Murders admitted the the programme hasn't got any characters from racial minorities, and he's going to keep it that way.

Then they suspended him. From a rope, off the church tower, with an anvil tied to his ankles.

For those of you who haven't seen it, or are safely residing in the colonies, Midsomer Murders is set in a twee English vllage somewhere in the Cotswolds, where every week some middle class white serial killer runs amok, killing other white middle class people until he or she is invariably caught, and it transpires the whole affair stemmed from an argument over a poor quality tea at the bowls club.

You know: People dying horribly. For entertainment.

It is all about is all about the scourge of white-on-white knife and gun crime, taking in the equal scourge of white-on-white inventive murder crime, most victims being decapitated by toasting forks and other everyday objects found in thatched cottages.

And now that they've been found out over the whole whiteness thing (not to mention the whole shitness thing, too), ITV's really got to get out there and up their game.

Firstly, there's the forthcoming blaxpolitation version: Shaft IV - Holiday in Midsomer, which is currently in post-production and will go some way to addressing the White Anglo-Saxon Protestant agenda that's wrecking tea-time viewing for millions.

But really, viewers have had enough of comfortable Sunday night viewing, and demand all-action adventure. I propose, then, the programme makers parachute in Sylvester Stallone and renaming it Midsomer Murder Death Kill.

Of course, in Midsomer Murder Death Kill, a blacked-up June Whitfield would have to play the Wesley Snipes role, or the shock value may prove too much for certain sections of the audience.

And if we can shoe-horn three old fellas hurtling down hill in a bath-tub, before impaling themselves on a plough that only a warped white middle-class serial killer could have thought to leave in their way, wired to explode on impact, that would make it the best thing ITV has ever done since the never-repeated Jeremy Kyle "To The Death" episode.

Actually, if the Jeremy Kyle Show could act as some sort of audition for Midsomer Murder Death Kill, that would give us the kind of product synergy that TV Execs fap themselves into a stupor over.

Next Week: Antiques Roadshow Death Race 2000

No comments: