This is the second in a series of, er well two so far, of my daytime TV reviews. You can read my critically acclaimed* review of Homes Under the Hammer here.
I should preface this piece by saying that Colin Fry died last year. I wouldn’t usually speak ill of the dead but will make an exception in this case as in Colin Fry’s world view, death is just a minor inconvenience which, although perhaps limiting your career options, shouldn’t hamper your enjoyment of life more than, say, a splinter or falling into some threshing machinery.
Whether or not you believe Colin Fry lives on in the spirit world (he definitely doesn’t) he does live on in the schedules of shitty TV channels all day every day in between repeats of The Bill and World’s Wildest Routine Traffic Stops.
The premise of the 6ixth Sense (this would be pronounced six-ixth sense; ridiculous) is simple. Colin Fry stands before an audience of bereaved and credulous simpletons and pretends to speak to the spirits of their dead relatives.
“I’ve got an older lady coming through who I feel is called Roberta”
“Erm……my uncle was called Robert?”
“Yep that’s the chap”
Inevitably the spirits want to pass on a banal message that everything’s ticketyboo in the spirit world and that they’ve managed to meet up with Steve the family goldfish who died in 1983 who’s doing really well actually and passed all of his exams and is now working as a dental hygenist.
Occasionally the spirits have some valuable life advice like “you should get that growth on your face looked at” or “stop that, you’ll go blind”. A spirit of a neighbour the other week wanted to tell an older lady in the audience to get rid of some of her tupperware because it was getting out of control. In the vox pop afterwards the lady wondered how, other than through direct contact with the spirit world, Colin Fry could have known about her cupboard full of tupperware? EVERYONE’S NAN HAS A CUPBOARD FULL OF TOO MUCH TUPPERWARE. Go round your nan’s house now and go through her cupboards – she will never need that much tupperware. She will never be able to cook a lasagne big enough to need that much tupperware.
Some readings are just plain mundane. I saw one where a spirit wanted to pass on a message that a man’s GROUND RENT FOR HIS CARAVAN WAS LIKELY TO GO UP IN THE NEAR FUTURE. Everyone has family members who don’t have much to say but you’d think if they’d gone to the effort of making contact through a psychic medium and if they had developed powers of fortune telling in the afterlife they might at least have passed on who was going to win the 3:15 at Kemptown Thursday week.
It’s bad that people’s last memory of their loved ones won’t be their actual memory but a fake conversation invented in Colin Fry’s head. It’s worse that Colin Fry made a career leeching money from the bereaved and vulnerable. Ir’s worse still that THERE’S NOTHING BETTER ON TELLY DURING THE DAY.
Captain Poo Pants daytime TV rating – 9/10
*not critically acclaimed