Dressing
gowns could have been invented just for watching TV.
This week, having seen
just two episodes of The Americans in the UK, I bought and downloaded the other
11 in LA and, over two days, watched the lot. In my dressing gown.
A couple of weeks ago, I bumped
into one of its stars, Matthew Rhys, on a Virgin flight from London to LA.
Matthew’s family lives just a couple of miles from me in Cardiff, yet it was
only in LA three years ago that I finally got to meet him.
He is an extraordinary actor. His
performance as gay lawyer Kevin in Brothers and Sisters was genius; no less so
is his undercover Russian spy, Phillip Jennings, in The Americans. And he's always getting his kit off. Always in the name of is art, of course.
While The Americans is not yet a
box set, increasingly viewers have turned to these packages to view shows they
have missed. More than anything, it saves time. No ads, no having to remember
to set your Sky Plus or TIVO – you just slob out on the sofa for 12 hours with
an Indian takeaway and a bottle of Rioja and forget to shower as you become
immersed in the story.
I watch way too much TV. There
are episodes of Law and Order: Special Victims Unit and Cold Case I have seen
several times over. My daytime fix, the courtroom show, Judge Alex, at 2pm, is
programmed into my Record list, and I am currently watching repeats of shows I
first saw just weeks ago.
Judge Alex is like a favourite cartoon: no matter how
many times you see it, it’s still funny. I was hugely entertained this week by
a case involving heavy discussions about rims, which means something entirely different
in the US (think cars, rather than body parts). Call me easily amused, but
hearing Judge Alex say “rims” just made me giggle. A lot. Like I said. Easily
amused.
On Tuesday, two of my favourite
shows, Suits and Covert Affairs return to the USA Network (Suits stars the divine Gabriel Macht - an actor born to play Christian Grey - PLEASE!). Now, here’s my dilemma:
do I watch them live on the night because I will not be able to bear waiting
(nor everyone telling me on Twitter what has happened before I have seen them),
or do I wait a few weeks for a dressing gown day when I can watch non-stop
(and, in the meantime, totally avoid Twitter)?
At least if I opt for the latter,
I will avoid the American ads, which are many. I always lose weight when in the
States because these ads make me feel so ill with their surfeit of food – all
of it orange. Orange prawns, orange chicken, orange bread – no amount of colour
adjustment on my set transforms these disgusting beds of fat into anything
other than a floating sea of orange cholesterol.
I imagine that men are as put off
sex as I am food, with ads that put the fear of God into you with the products’
side effects.
You can get your sex drive back,
but be warned: this product may cause sweating, palpitations, liver damage,
kidney damage, headaches, nausea, brain tumours, blood clots. Then there’s the
dastardly warning; please see your doctor if you have an erection lasting
longer than eight hours. I imagine after hearing about the possible side
effects, you’d be lucky to get one at all.
The box set saves you from the
side effects of consuming too many commercials, and if you download them, they
also save you from having your shelves cluttered up with these monstrous
cardboard bricks.
Practically the whole of my life
runs through the computer now. I have systems that enable me to watch UK TV in
the US and vice versa. My laptop is plugged into my TV so I can run everything
through my 50 inch screen. I suspect that in a few generations, nobody will
have legs, as humans will have lost their need ever to use them.
But as it’s Sunday and there’s
not much on the TV, I’m going to do something revolutionary and take a hike up
Runyon Canyon. I may take my iPad with me, just in case I get withdrawal
symptoms and need to watch repeats of The Americans when I’m there.
Then it’ll be back home for
supper and taking my dressing gown out of the wash ready to start another TV
viewing week.
Tomorrow, on Judge Alex, the defendant Richard says he took his Bengal cat to
Kismet for breeding and to sell Bengal kittens, but was devastated when Kismet
told him his kittens had died.
Oh, please say pussy, Judge Alex. Just for me.
No comments:
Post a Comment