Wed 18 May 2005
TV REVIEW
LOUISA PEARSON
The Monastery, BBC2
Property Ladder Revisited, Channel 4
The honeymoon is over. When reality TV first entered our consciousness, it was shiny and new, making many of us feel, well, like a virgin. But somewhere along the line, things took a turn for the worse. The happy relationship went stale, leaving us craving all sorts of deviant activities: plastic surgery performed on some poor soul who thinks that a new nose and a trimmer tum will turn her life around. Page three girls eating grubs and wondering if it’ll lead to a pop career, new footballer boyfriend and a spread in *OK!. When it got to the point when racing pundit John McCririck appeared on primetime wearing nothing but a gargantuan pair of Y-fronts, it was clear some form of counselling was needed.
For those who’ve been experiencing guilt over their love affair with reality TV, BBC2’s The Monastery appears to offer salvation. Here five "ordinary men" enter a whole new world for our viewing pleasure, but we can take comfort in the fact that they might just find spiritual enlightenment along the way. Somehow watching the personality clashes, the plaintive video diaries and the slow unravelling of psyches doesn’t seem quite so voyeuristic when the subjects have a shot at religious illumination.
The deal this time round is a 40-days-and-40-nights stint in Worth Abbey in West Sussex where the five have signed up to live by the rules set down 1,500 years ago by St Benedict himself. As this is the Beeb, there is of course a bigger issue at stake too - can the monastic tradition offer anything to the modern world?
Two weeks into the experiment, the participants are just about getting over the shock of 6:20am prayers and a daily routine of meditation, Bible classes and manual labour. They’re a mixed bunch of characters - Tony the agnostic ad man, Gary the emotionally vulnerable yet volatile Irishman, Anthoney, the successful businessman with unresolved issues about his childhood, Peter the old cynic and Nick, the long-haired one with a guitar. As far as characters go, it’s a sitcom waiting to happen. But in the confines of the monastery, where the atmosphere is all calm, tolerance and understanding, conflict is thin on the ground. Except for Gary and Anthoney, that is. Gary’s troubled background includes time spent in prison, battles with alcoholism and a stint with the UDA. He came through it, found God and is now keen to talk about his feelings. All the time. The smallest prompt leads to a confessional, and even the real-life monks struggle to stop their eyes from glazing over. Anthoney on the other hand is your basic control freak with a chip on his shoulder, and doesn’t want to talk about his feelings "because I’ve been hurt in the past". Put these two in a room together and it’s not long before the air turns from holy to blue.
Despite the occasional flare-up, the real problem with The Monastery is that peace, tranquility and finding inner strength doesn’t make for terribly interesting viewing. Yes, there are religious awakenings going on with some regularity, but for the viewer accustomed to a bit more action in their reality TV, it takes some getting used to. You almost want the programme-makers to intervene, *Big Brother-style, with some Bible-related challenges. "Can the participants walk on water? Let’s find out!"
With the cheap thrills suitably absent, we’re left with what feels like group therapy. While Nick remains to be convinced about "the whole God thing" and Peter furrows his brow and asks "is this really relevant?", the true stars of the show are the monks. The Abbot is a more adept politician than most of our new MPs, putting a positive spin on every doubt which arises. He has that smile that says he knows what the meaning of life is, but he’s not about to tell us lot.
If reality TV is a bad habit to get into, property shows are an equally futile addiction. Logic dictates that by this point in time, the entire population must have seen enough of these programmes to understand that simple décor, an en-suite and keeping original features will help you sell your house. Lending your "personal touch" to the furnishings or knocking down walls without asking the nice man at the Council’s Buildings Dept about it first are universally accepted no-nos.
Unless you’re a participant on Property Ladder Revisited, that is. In last night’s episode, the hapless improver squeezed two extra bedrooms into an already small flat in an attempt to lure in London’s wealthy twentysomethings. You willed him and his "I know best" attitude to fail. But 18 months on, despite experiencing nightmare tenants and becoming the resident handyman, he was unrepentant and still full of blind confidence. Oh well, with any luck he’ll be drafted in for the next series of The Monastery. From Property Ladder to Jacob’s Ladder, it’d make for enlightening viewing.
Scotsman
