A drum'n'bass star saves this baton camp from being a dead loss
Maestro BBC2
Sue Perkins says that taking part in Maestro (Tuesdays, 9pm), the new reality show in which various "celebrities" attempt to learn how to conduct an orchestra, is: "The most exciting thing I've ever done!" What? More exciting even than eating pig's head jelly with Giles Coren in The Supersizers Go . . . ? Surely not. Personally, my body tingles from head to toe at the very thought of a jelly-Giles TV combo. But then, when you take part in as many reality shows as Perkins, you probably become adept at talking them up; there is one's next gig to consider, after all.
Ditto Alex James, who used to be the bass player in a band and is now a wannabe farmer - when, that is, he is not appearing in rubbish television programmes. While Perkins's USP is to make moderately funny jokes, the better to hide her own inadequacies when it comes to the task in hand, James's is always to try to remind you how cool he once was - in the hope, I presume, of distracting viewers from his uncoolness now. "It's impossible not to look cool with a bass," he reminisced, practically drooling with self-love. Actually, I am not entirely sure that this strategy is an effective one. Isn't Sting a bass player?
Perkins and James predictably apart, who else is hoping to win the chance to conduct the BBC Concert Orchestra in front of 30,000 people for one night only? Dear God. Even by the standards of reality TV, this lot are annoying, from the Miss Perfect newsreader Katie Derham, who is so swottish I'm already longing for the first bassoon to become inexplicably enraged and lob an egg at her, to the terrifyingly robotic Jane Asher, who wants to win so badly that if I were the other contestants I would be wary indeed of accepting one of her famous decorated cakes, should she be so good as to bring such a thing into baton camp for coffee break. In fact, were it not for Goldie, the drum'n'bass star, Maestro would be a dead loss - and the producers know it. Judging by the way the series is edited, all of its excitement will henceforth rest on his shoulders (if excitement is the word: listening to the same crowd-pleasing bit of Prokofiev over and over is about as thrilling as eating a whole Babybel cheese).
Goldie is a BBC dream come true. He can't read music; he grew up in institutions; he's black. And yet, on the evidence so far, he's the best conductor by miles. Is there such a thing as cake voodoo? I wonder. Asher could fashion some royal icing into a Goldie likeness, then take a bite out of it each week that he progresses. I won't say which bit she should save till last.
In theory, Maestro should be a cut above other reality shows. You can see the BBC thinking: we can get away with this one because it's bringing classical music, and how it works, to a wider audience. But it feels pretty ropey to me. I first saw a DJ learn to be a conductor four years ago, on Channel 4's Faking It, a series entirely gripping, not only because it didn't involve a hammy desperate-to-be-liked celebrity, but also because it was a single, hour-long film rather than an idea that had been milked - and milked - until it filled six episodes. Maestro is incredibly repetitive. Once you've seen one dumbo learn to count four, you've seen them all - hence the arrival of the Royal Marines Band, to which our stars had to march. It was just a somewhat desperate attempt to get them out of their practice rooms.
And then, on top of everything, there's Zoe Martlew, a cellist who is one of Maestro's four judges. Martlew seems to think that she's Arlene Phillips from Strictly Come Dancing, and it's embarrassing to behold - though not quite as embarrassing, perhaps, as the swooning of Jane Asher's conducting mentor, Christopher Warren-Green, every time she walks through the door. "I've admired your work for years!" he said, when they were first introduced. What a creep. I, for one, can't think of a single Asher role off the top of my head. But perhaps he's big into sugarcraft.
Pick of the week
The Hairy Bakers
Starts 18 August, 8.30pm, BBC2
Beardy men get excited about cakes.
Who Do You Think You Are?
20 August, 9pm, BBC1
Mayor Boris Johnson grapples with his Turkish roots.
Watch Me Disappear
22 August, 7.35pm, Channel 4
Desperately sad film about all the lonely people whose funerals are unattended.
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