When Love Comes to Town
Channel 9, Tuesdays and Wednesdays, 7.30pm
IT SEEMS extraordinary to claim that a single television show could be responsible for the downfall of our civilisation.
And yet it’s hard to escape the feeling that Channel Nine’s “When Love Comes to Town” is a sure sign of the looming zombie apocalypse.
Indeed, this show would make perfect zombie viewing, clearly being designed for those with brains operating on a greatly reduced level of activity.
Witness the opening stanza, in which a busload of lovelorn near model-quality members of the fairer sex descended on tiny Margaret River in Western Australia, an unsuspecting town of barely more than 4000.
These ladies want a life partner… of sorts.
Waiting for them were two garden-variety himbos: carpenter Adam and alleged lawyer Moshe.
I say alleged because, if Moshe is a lawyer, he is the only legal practitioner of my acquaintance to favour flannelette shirts, of the checked variety no less.
The ‘bogan’ undertones are writ large, from the opening bounce.
Carpenter Adam chooses chookhouse construction as his first group date. I’m starting to get a feel for why this tradie hasn’t found a lady.
Moshe, meanwhile, straps on the flannos and takes his henhouse brood to the local agricultural show. Not sure if they won anything.
I am certain the ladies involved are not shallow, vain gold-diggers. Sadly, that is how many of them appear.
This “reality” TV would be the least-real show I’ve ever seen. I’ve been surrounded by farmers all my life – still am – and I’ve never seen one like the wannabe professional hand models who feature in this crap.
I watched five minutes of the second episode, before seeking relief by gouging my eyes out with a spoon.
Run … run as far and as fast as you can … and don’t look back.
– Jason Beck
