It’s been a rough year for popular culture, with The 2 Johnnies selling out 3Arena and the Killeagh song infesting the airwaves. But we’ve had to wait until now for rock bottom, which is achieved in thudding fashion with Davina McCall’s appalling new dating show Stranded on Honeymoon Island (BBC One, 9pm).
Stranded on what? Honeymoon Island, we learn, is a tropical paradise in a picturesque corner of the Philippines to which “newly-wed” couples are exiled, the better to get to know each other. But if they’re married, surely they are already on first-name terms? How wrong you are: the big gimmick is that the couples are love-hungry singletons – such is the terminology of the dating show oeuvre – who tie the knot in a fake ceremony and must then try to make their ersatz relationship work while topping up their tan.
The going is grim. In the latest episode, Oliver reveals that he has slept with his pretend partner Taniae – and is baffled that her emotions are hurt when he passes off the experience as a bit of casual fun. Wiping away tears, she makes it clear that she feels she has been exploited. Should the BBC really be presenting this as a bit of prurient weeknight fun?
With the cameras rolling, Oliver doesn’t want to come across as the villain of the piece – but his feelings for Taniae obviously aren’t all that. This sort of thing happens all the time in the real world – but to parcel it for mass consumption is surely unconscionable. There is no wider lesson about human nature: Taniae’s pain is being paraded before us simply for the drama.
The same can be said of same-sex couple Abby and Helen – Abby is a tomboy who brags about past conquests (or so feels Helen). They have a frank conversation, feelings are hurt, and, again, there is a sense of snooping on the private affairs of strangers. The words we are looking for here are “breathtakingly crass”.
How much culpability rests at the door of McCall? She doesn’t actually make it to the Philippines, and her involvement is confined mainly to speaking over the introductory credits and sending the occasional video message to the contestants. Still, her image is plastered all over the show – for which she is presumably being paid handsomely (the entire thing is estimated to have set the BBC back £5 million).
Everyone, of course, has to make a living – but even by the tawdry standards of reality TV, this is painful watching. Stranded on Honeymoon Island is a show so vapid, exploitative, and degrading that it makes Love Island look like Mastermind.