After a year in which we’ve been riven by war, political infighting, endless dreary woke-ism and the shock recall of Lord David of Cameron from his luxury Cotswolds shepherd’s hut, there is something wonderfully comforting about the return of I’m A Celebrity… for the 22nd year running.
Because over in Australia there’s a constancy, consistency and utter predictability that somehow soothes the soul.
Everything is just as it should be.
The huge, smelly vats of worryingly brown sludge. The trillions of ants, spiders and snakes and endless arrestingly chewy testicles. The stinking dunny. The screaming celebrities whose names we can’t quite remember. Ant and Dec bobbing about like cheeky young boys, fresh from Ant’s 8th – sorry, 48th – birthday celebrations.
And, yes, the usual ridiculous group of actors, TV presenters, reality stars and influencers, so starving hungry for fame that they’ll eat literally anything – a penis, ball sack, wriggling witchetty grub, or, in the case of Grace Dent (who apparently once wrote rather scathingly both about the programme and anyone on it), a lot of her own words, to secure it.
After a year in which we’ve been riven by war, political infighting, endless dreary woke-ism and the shock recall of Lord David of Cameron from his luxury Cotswolds shepherd’s hut, there is something wonderfully comforting about the return of I’m A Celebrity … for the 22nd year running
Because over in Australia there’s a constancy, consistency and utter predictability that somehow soothes the soul. Everything is just as it should be
Hang on a minute… ‘celebrities’?
Well, er, yes, if some aren’t perhaps immediately recognisable, that might be because ITV spent so much money – reportedly a record £1.5million – on Nigel Farage, that they had to scrimp a bit on the other nine.
But look, there’s Nick Pickard, Hollyoaks’ longest-serving actor, who we’ve been told is afraid of the dark and annoys his wife by picking his nose. And silver fox Fred Sirieix from First Dates who ‘is scared of everything, but doesn’t like to be limited by fear’.
Josie Gibson, who won Big Brother in 2010, is now a presenter on This Morning and isn’t sure how she’ll cope without her blow dry and make-up.
And Britney Spears’ little sister Jamie Lynn, who insists she’s ‘best known for being a singer and an actress’.
Oh, for goodness’ sake! And, come to think of it, she doesn’t seem terribly familiar with the show’s format.
‘I don’t want to eat weird things, or have weird things crawling over me,’ she says. ‘And I’m a bit worried about the restroom facilities.’
But then here comes GB News presenter Nigel – the former leader of Ukip and the Brexit Party, later renamed Reform UK – striding through the outback.
One second he’s kicking off his new election campaign in a neatly pressed pink shirt and green chinos, and the next he’s sitting in a massive vat of snake-infested sludge, searching for tokens while a TikTok influencer called Nella Rose screams and screams and screams in his ear like a maniac.
Naturally, before the series even kicked off, Peta and the RSPCA were already getting all hot and bothered in case an innocent critter got squashed in Nigel pants or down Josie’s cleavage.
And it seems they might have a point. Because within minutes, everyone seems to be wrestling with snakes, heights, spiders, mouthfuls of mealworms and yelling their heads off.
And, yes, the usual ridiculous group of actors, TV presenters, reality stars and influencers, so starving hungry for fame that they’ll eat literally anything – a penis, ball sack, wriggling witchetty grub, or, in the case of Grace Dent (who apparently once wrote rather scathingly both about the programme and anyone on it), a lot of her own words, to secure it
But then here comes GB News presenter Nigel – the former leader of Ukip and the Brexit Party, later renamed Reform UK – striding through the outback
One second he’s kicking off his new election campaign in a neatly pressed pink shirt and green chinos, and the next he’s sitting in a massive vat of snake-infested sludge, searching for tokens while a TikTok influencer called Nella Rose screams and screams and screams in his ear like a maniac
Other than Nigel, that is, who remains uncharacteristically calm and quiet, and says things like, ‘Stunning, stunning. It’s like a camping adventure and I’m up for it!’ and ‘Ooh, I’ve never tried kangaroo, but I’ll give it a go.’
As usual, most of the fun is had by Ant and Dec, who can’t stop grinning and gurning and are as brilliantly giggly and disrespectful as ever.
However, as this first episode unfolds, it becomes clear that there are a few gaps in the usual jungle landscape.
No Carol Thatcher-lady of a certain age stalwart. Or, for that matter, a resident bathing bikini beauty a la Myleene Klass.
(Apparently, Danielle Harold, the former EastEnders actress, was tagged for the job, but time has moved on and she’s having none of it, declaring herself ‘ditzy and goofy, but I’m not a blonde’. Good on you, Danielle)
There’s also no super-hot muscle man this year. Sadly, Danny Cipriani had to pull out at the last minute when his wife reportedly discovered some unfortunate messages on his phone – and is now a teeny bit too busy dealing with the fallout to come. (Which also came as a bit of a blow to the show crew, who by all accounts, were counting down the days to his shower scenes.)
But on we must go, for the next three weeks, without them.
The first episode is always full of intros, arrival admin, and more commercial breaks than you’d think it possible to cram into a single show – I suppose they’ve got to pay for Nigel somehow. Even allowing for all that, this one was certainly not vintage.
But at least we’re left with something to look forward to tonight –the promise of the former Ukip leader (with nightmare Nella screaming in his ear) paying his dues in the jungle pizzeria as he chews his way through what is bound to be a banquet of anus, penis and all the other bits you don’t want to eat.
And maybe, just maybe, wondering if this is the best way to campaign for a general election.
