Cash in the Attic

Sometimes you see something on television that is so unbelievably bad that it defies description. The sort of programme that makes your television set look like it's ashamed to be showing it to you. Sometimes you just sit there letting the torrent of garbage pour into your living room, through your eyes and into your brain where it is instantly beaten to death by the tremendous rage you feel when you actually consider that someone, somewhere allowed it to be broadcast in the first place. When I say 'sometimes' I mean everyday. At about 12.15. On BBC 1.

Cash in the Attic is the worst programme ever made. You may think there are worse programmes in the world but you would be wrong. If you enjoy Cash in the Attic there is something wrong with you. The only reason I ever watch this train-wreck of a TV show is because that is exactly what it is - and every day, while I eat my lunch I watch with twisted morbid fascination as gullible half-wits invite the most utterly repulsive people in television history to ransack their house and sell their treasured family heirlooms for what amounts to peanuts, just so they can buy a shed or something equally pointless and uninteresting.

How on earth do the producers of the show talk seemingly normal human beings into acting surprised when some spikey haired moron suddenly "discovers" a massive grandfather's clock that's sitting right in their hallway? "Wow, I've never seen that before, Jonty, well spotted. Now I'd like you tell me all about it even though I have a dog that knows more about antiques than you... also, while you're at it, why not bully me into selling it at a general auction for a fraction of what I'd get if I told you lot to get lost back to broadcasting school and sold the thing myself at a specialist sale... go for it, I'm desperate to be on television so I don't mind if you totally screw me over for other peoples supposed entertainment." I'd like to know who actually falls for that "look what I found!" pantomime. Who the hell has a bookcase sitting in a 1980s semi detached house that they didn't know about? No-one. Does Lorne Spicer actually give a monkeys about the manicure you're going to buy your dog with the "winnings"? No, her nods and smiles are as contrived as everything else in this programme. A dead marmot that could give more accurate evaluations than Jonty Hearnden. "I value this plate between £5 and £200." You don't say??? - you may as well just say "I think someone will buy this with money." Even more infuriating is when Lorne starts patting Jontys on the back, saying things like "Joanne's plate sold for a fantastic £5 - bang on Jonty's estimate!" NO - bang on estimate would've been £102.50, what you have actually done is sold it for nothing... but luckily, Jonty's estimate was so vague that it easily masks the fact that you've totally failed.

Finally, congratulations go to David Lowe for composing what is literally the worst music ever written. At least Bargain Hunt has the sense to use random parent-friendly electronica such as Mr. Scruff or the Avalanches - the producers of Cash in the Attic seem to think David Lowe's handful of relentless and repetitive xylophone solos will be enough to soundtrack every single episode since this crime against television started. I would be extremely surprised if someone could prove that David Lowe actually has any ears.

I want to know who pooped in Alex Bloomberg's porridge (He is the one who posted the negative comment here). While I do not claim that this programme has multi-million dollar production values, it is entertaining. Both Alistair Appleton and Angela Rippon are personable hosts, and in the case of Rippon, apparently knowledgeable on antiques as well. The appeal of this programme is twofold: 1) It is always nice to see people made happy when their dreams are realized. 2) Most people, myself included, watch this type of show in the hope of being able to say "I HAVE ONE OF THOSE!". If you enjoy the action of the auction, and learning about antiques and collectibles, while not as erudite as The Antiques Roadshow, this show is a winner.

On a period of illness so harsh that I could not even face concentrating on a film, I found myself dumped in front on daytime telly wondering when I was going to get better. One of the shows I saw was the terribly tawdry "Car Booty" where lower-middle class families sell their tat at a car boot sale in an attempt to make a few hundred for a Butlins holiday, fridge, cooker etc. Immediately following it was Cash in the Attic which seems to do the same thing but in a slightly more upmarket fashion by picking on families who have inherited things of value. They are generally the sort of people who take their goods to Antiques Roadshow, find out it is worth a sh1tload but decide it has "too much sentimental value" and they did rather get up my nose.

For Car Booty it was depressing to watch people selling rubbish just to try and get the cash to buy what are (in my opinion) pretty basics goods and services but here it is a tad annoying to watch the people pulling heirlooms out of their bums. However this is not to say it is cheerful stuff because it isn't. I still had an issue with people being encouraged to sell over reasonably valuable personal family items just to try and get some cash for a short term project. Regardless of this though I still found the show nothing more than dull rubbish.

In credit to the makers they do try to make it engaging and milking everything they can out of the stories – the reason for the selling etc and the auctions are reasonably interesting (if you've stuck with it for that long). Even in my weakened state though I did find myself thinking that this was nearly as long per episode as The Wire, The Sopranos, many BBC4 documentaries etc – all things that are more interesting and beneficial than this, although I suppose that is the price to pay for 24 hour broadcasting and lots of channels to fill.

I know several people have presented this down the years but the ones I saw were all fronted by Angela Rippon. Once a big name it is nearly painful to watch her like this as she delivers a performance so hammy and cheesy that it is like she has been stuck in panto. Any dialogue is delivered with exaggerated facial expressions , which are made worse by her overdoing any vague excitement she may feel (or not feel). That said though, I suppose she does fit the product she is selling so in a way she is brilliant – just not in any way I am interested in.

Car Booty for the middle and upper-middle classes then and you can't have much more damning criticism than that.

During the void of nothingness, just after BBC Breakfast finishes and until BBC News @ 6 begins, the BBC chose to fill this 9 hour or so void with a plethora of unvaried antique shoes such as Cash in the Attic, Car Booty to name a few.

These uninspired low budget productions stink of poor producing, cheap presenters and what would appear to be the purposeful choice of the dullest families and couples of the country.

The concept is, quoted from the production companies website- The show that helps you find hidden treasures in your home, and then sells them for you at auction.

Even this copyrighted marketing tag line fails to deliver even a hint of excitement or viewing pleasure, which is quite rightly the exact same way to describe this programme.

So, a group of a presenters and experts, usually nothing more than fresh faced Drama school dropouts, attempt to help find trinkets of some monetary value, if not nothing, in their homes and, to ones disbelief, not necessarily their attics.

Usually these couples in question, are either elderly or young couples fresh out of University with no money in the bank. Followed by a team of a Barbour wearing country boy ''Alastair Appleton'' and his minion, a strangely dressed antiques expert rather unaffectionately named ''Johnty'', they go to work by firstly appearing at the victims homes.

These victims do their best to look remotely surprised, even if they were briefed 19 times on the arrival of the presenters and film crew several hours prior. As they go around the homes, looking at the victims closest and dearest items, they usually come across a point of interest item such as some rather dusty and deformed silverware collection.

With suppressed excitement, the victims attempt to be surprised and interested, with the camera man, in vain, trying to zoom in on their faces to capture even the most miniscule trace of interest whatsoever.

Then they go to auction, of course, after the items have been ''estimated'' by the ''expert'', usually at nominal prices if not nothing. A few 1980's style montage shots of the various victims and presenters looking at items accompanied by a Royalty Free soundtrack that stinks of Muzak.

At the auction house, a Rocky style 80's tension track plays during every bid, 10 minutes later, after seeing fast talking auctioneers, the victims screaming in excitement or dread at an under value price item being sold it all ends.

We find out if they have reached their target, usually a certain amount of money required to purchase a holiday, new television or sofa. After much jumping with subdued glee, the presenters say adieu and the show ends. Thankfully.

This is one of a number of shows by the BBC focusing on antiques. First there was Bargain Hunt, then Flog It! and then this. Having looked at the info on the BBC website, you realise how staged this show is. The people who are hoping to raise some cash have their items evaluated by experts looking at a list. They then send someone around to take a better look at them. Then they decide to film it, with a presenter and expert helping find the items - again. It's interesting to see how the items do at auction but the whole thing has "pose for the cameras" written all over it. One thing they can improve on is dropping all the puns used to describe an items chances.