You might imagine that this site was born in London, what with that being the only place that ever gets mentioned when it comes to the cultural identity of our country - the very idea that sweaty, over-populated noisy mess of a place is somehow the automatic cultural hot-spot is laughable to anyone who lives outside of the place. But we're not from London - this site was conceived and born in the North East of England. And I can quite easily stomach the London-centric attitudes when confronted with one particular trend that has popped its ugly head up on television far too many times in recent years: that is the detrimental caricaturing of a group of people who have done nothing to deserve the treatment. A group of people very dear to me, since I'm one of them - Geordies. There was a time, not so long ago, when the humble Geordie was an infrequent fixture on television, with programmes like
Auf Wiedersehen, Pet! and
Byker Grove painting colourful, but ultimately harmless caricatures of working-class, "salt-of-the-Earth" characters. But things have now changed, and decidedly for the worse. Within the past year alone we've seen the criminal release of not one but two programmes that have ground the good name of the Geordie as a proud identity into the carpet. First there was the atrocity of
Geordie Shore - the car crash show to end all car crash television - which invited us to watch "real" Geordies live their lives, mainly in the gym, in bed or in the bars and clubs of Newcastle. It of course followed the scripted reality TV show model used in precursor
Jersey Shore, which entirely missed the point that those shows are part and parcel of the American TV make-up and aren't a staple of British TV. So everyone thinks it's all real, despite that nagging feeling that this clowns couldn't possibly be real people. The vileness of that programme knows no bounds, but it was at least presented as an exploitation entertainment formula, and there was a precedent set by the idiotic American sibling that acted like a prologue warning.
But there is something altogether more dangerous about
Geordie Finishing School, which is being marketed as the natural antidote to shows like
Made In Chelsea and
The Only Way Is Essex - obscene, vulgar programmes in which plastic, infuriating privileged youths, with little sense of the real world spend Daddy's hard earned cash in equally vulgar, culture-black-hole nightclubs like Faces, or on silly little trinkets and shoes. Geordie Finishing School was to be the real world's revenge on these insufferable empty-heads, teaching them the value of money and family values through real life lessons, taught on the breadline by "real" people, and no-nonsense Geordies no less, who just begged your attention. Let's be honest here, anything that attempts to offer a socio-political message to those who obviously need the lesson, or highlights the plight of poorer sections of society is at least partially worthy of attention. But when that message is muddled in with an entertainment formula - and there is definitely more of
The Simple Life than
Dispatches to Geordie Finishing School - and the script is removed, it all gets a little more potentially damaging for all parties, and not just the ones who are supposed to be the butt of the joke. I was already sick of the exploitation of Geordies on TV, but last night broke the camel's back. Having consciously swerved the debut of BBC3's Geordie Finishing School, I unintentionally came across it in its late night second screening slot, and was sucked in - first by recognition of some area of Byker I knew, and then by the utter horror of what I was watching. The trick of the show is to pretend that it is poking fun at the posh girls, who have no concept of reserved living, or budgeting - who get £700 a month pocket-money, and think nothing of turning up to an area they were warned was rough in a tweed jacket and with a Louis Vuitton bag - when really it's victims are the Geordies who are supposed to be the sobering reality of the piece. By using the Geordies and their social backdrops as the model by which the other extreme must live their lives, the show holds them up for criticism, and exploitation as much as the "posh" girls. It isn't like the girls are being thrust into a normal situation to learn how to live, and show up the ridiculousness of their habits and what they perceive to be normal, instead they are pushed to the other non-normal extreme, which makes not only them, or their juxtaposition into that context, but also the context itself perverse.
There is no real attempt to show the plight of the poorer areas of Newcastle as a means to address the problem either - instead it is presented as a constant situation, counter to normalcy but completely unchanging. And the contrast of the "posh" girls' own backgrounds against this other presumed solid reality is damning for both and not just one of the extremes. There's also an element of the TV zoo about it all - like those manipulative, exploitative documentaries that Channel 5 are so fond of - as "normal" viewers are invited to watch and thank their lucky stars that they will never have to be part of either of these two hideous extremes. But that wasn't the thing that sent me over the edge. One channel up, on BBC4 - a channel I adore (especially for its Friday night musical schedule) - at exactly the same time as Geordie Finishing School (I know because I had to turn the goddawful tripe off at least twice) was a documentary from 2005 called
Today I'm With You. And it was this documentary that turned my infuriation level up to ranting territory. In the interest of contrast, here's the official synopsis from the channel's website:
During the late 1960s Finnish photographer and filmmaker Sirkka-Liisa Konttinen came to Byker, a working class community in Newcastle upon Tyne. She fell in love with her new home just as it was about to be demolished. Her seminal documentation of the community led to national recognition for her work as a key account of Britain's traditional working class culture at the moment of its destruction. In 2005, Sirkka returned. The visionary Byker Wall Estate that replaced the original terraced streets was to have rehoused the community intact, but inevitably didn't. This new film follows her as she negotiates a photographic journey through its now multicultural communities - building a portrait of the estate out of her comically chaotic portrait sessions and the arresting photographs, stories and negotiations that flow from them. Through rare film footage we glimpse her as a young woman photographing the old community.
Sounds interesting doesn't it? Intriguing, thought-provoking, engaging. The kind of documentary the BBC should be making, rather than this exploitative dross over on BBC3. Except, Today, I'm With You was simply another dressed up exercise in exploitation. What confirmed it for me, and also confirmed the shows intentions to draw a parallel between the North Eastern identity and "otherness" was the highly unnecessary decision to subtitle certain of the Geordies that Sirkka interviewed. This might not seem much of an outrage initially, because regional accents can often be difficult to understand - but what astounded me was that these people weren't particularly broad, and were in fact completely intelligible. That, plus the exploitation elements of the other two shows, particularly last night's Geordie Finishing School cumulatively reinforce that despicable new trend of making Geordies (and presumably all regional identities) liminal and exotically "other". It is effectively racism by another definition, taking a distinct cultural and geographically linked identity and using its own traits and idiosyncracies against it in the interest of other people's entertainment and gratification. And who do I blame for this whole sorry state of affairs?
Marcus fucking Bentley, that's who.
You might not recognise the name, or even the smug little face, but you'd certainly recognise the voice. Especially if you'd ever seen an episode of
Big Brother. Because for a while, a few years ago, Bentley was the most aped voice-over artist in Britain, adding sardony-laced commentary to the "zany", moronic activities of the all-too-willing hamsters who volunteered to be crude exhibits. He - not even a real Geordie, having been born in Gateshead and brought up in Middlesbrough (where he got his decidedly Teesside-based accent from) - would happily dial up his accent (not a Geordie one at all, remember), which inexplicitly aligned Geordiness with the show, and more importantly, and dangerously, the spirit of the show. Which is why North Easterners generally did well on the show - not because they were particularly nice people (come on!), but because the show somehow fit that particular type of Geordie (or really any regional caricature type person), and all of the stereotypical traits involved. From there, the next natural step was always going to be to strip away the superfluous features and just give the "reality show" adoring public what they wanted, a full-time programme that would introduce more characters like Michelle Bass, Anthony Heaton, Jonny Regan, Narinder Kaur, Liam McGough and Michelle Heaton - all North Easterners who were either controversial BB contestants or finished within the top three. So we end up with this disgusting, risible culture of the Geordie Zoo on TV. Of course some Geordies are just as much to blame as the TV executives who put these shows together. First there's the Geordie Shore participants (and their sexually promiscuous, and presumably STI-riddled quarry) who volunteered to mimic the antics of the Jersey Shore pack and willingly destroyed their own lives, and brought burning shame on the region in the process. And then there's that element of our region's populus who positively celebrate their acquiescence to stereotyped behaviour: those like two of the "mentors" last night who are gleeful in their entirely misplaced pride at aligning themselves with the national stereotype of Geordies - of the bare-armed and legged ruffians, beer in hand, just out of the mine, with questionable moral standards who drag their knuckles around the Bigg Market eating Stotties and drinking Broon Ale. These two girls in question did more for those stereotypes by laughing at her formerly violent past (she is now a social worker of sorts helping kids avoid her mistakes), or by calling truancy "typical Geordie" behaviour. For God's sake, don't let those who seek to stereotype win by holding up their ill-informed caricatures as a model for living! As a Geordie myself, I am thoroughly sick of the cultural rape of our region, that makes a zoo of Newcastle, and then suggests, thanks to the ridiculous willingness of a small section of volunteers that we are all willing to participate. I'm also sick of this fetishistic idea that all Geordies are either rough as fuck, scratching a living on the breadline, but buoyed by their close family dynamic and willingness to look on the bright side or plastic, perma-tanned morons in tight t-shirts or short skirts going to the Diamond Strip for either a fight or a fuck or both. And you should all be ashamed of yourselves for laughing along, nodding sagely that you all know a Geordie like that.