Ladies
and gentlemen, I bring you a watershed moment in Australian
television. Not since Yasmin tried (and failed) to get married
has a commercial network sunk to the depths plumbed by Seven
with National Bingo Night. The network’s non-stop,
cross-media promotion of this stinker has been long, loud and
lavish; but as the popular saying goes, you can’t polish
a dog dropping – and this falls squarely into that category.
From a purely commercial point of view, you have to wonder
who Seven are targeting with this drivel. It’s certainly
not teens and twenty-somethings who will almost certainly be
appalled by the very concept – and who in any event will
probably be watching re-runs of Thank God You’re Here
while waiting for Australian Idol to start. It’s
certainly not aimed at a middle-aged ‘quality viewing’
(don’t you just hate that term) audience. The logical
answer seems to be the blue-rinse set; although the show bears
as much resemblance to the local bingo parlour as host Tim Campbell
bears to Nelson Mandela.
So what’s wrong with the show? Oh, where to begin…
First off, it’s not exactly bingo the way grandma likes
to play it. There are so many rules and combinations of outcomes
that even the most avid bingo player will surely be confused.
Basically, there’s a player at centre-stage, who’s
kind of like the MC at a bingo night. This person draws the
numbers via a very complicated-looking pneumatic sphere thingy
and some kind of remote-control button.
That sucks a big ball down a tube and into the waiting hands
of co-host Renee Bargh; who must display silky skills in placing
it on a rack and announcing the number. The contestant is playing
for a big prize worth around $50,000; which will involve numbers
in some way (a credit card number for example). He or she will
have to pick numbers using some criterion (red or black; under
30 or over 30). Only the numbers picked correctly applying the
criterion count. If the contestant chooses correctly, then the
corresponding numbers in the prize are knocked out. If they
knock them all out, they win.
But the audience are also playing in a more traditional bingo
mode – i.e. marking the selected numbers off a pre-printed
card. If someone gets ‘bingo’ (five numbers in a
line) before the contestant, then the audience member wins and
the contestant loses.
To
add even more complexity, people can play at home using bingo
cards either from promotional press or downloaded from the Net
(wonder how many choose that option?). They too can win cash,
but claiming it seems rather more complicated – so much
so, I haven’t bothered even finding out how.
One of the extremely weird aspects of the show is the inclusion
of a fictional character – the Bingo Commissioner –
played by comedian Tanveer Ahmed. The ostensible role of this
character is to check the audience’s cards and make sure
they actually have ‘bingo’. In reality, his role
seems to be to pander to a certain element of the viewing audience
by playing up a racist stereotype of Indians. While I hate those
telemarketing calls from Bangalore as much as the next person,
this is a bit beyond the pale I reckon. I mean, what’s
next – is Seven going to hire Greg Ritchie to appear in
black-face and sing 'Mammy'?
I know, people will e-mail me and say ‘it’s all
just a bit of fun’ – which it may well be. But that
doesn’t mean it’s in good taste.
Ex-Home and Away actor Tim Campbell tries hard to
inject some enthusiasm into the mix; but even he seems stumped
by the rules at times. He also doesn’t seem to command
the floor in the way that say Andrew O’Keefe does on the
shows he hosts. As for Renee Bargh, well let’s face it,
she’s there to look good – and she does that well.
National Bingo Night is arguably the laziest, most
puerile piece of television foisted on Australians this year.
I appreciate that 6.30 on a Sunday night is hardly the most
demanding time-slot; but surely we can do a little bit better
than this. The only thing that saves it from being a total waste
of time is to laugh at the ineptitude of the whole thing. I’d
recommend that when this show comes on, you do something constructive
– like flicking over to The Einstein Factor.
