The Deep- the worst big budget TV series ever made. Possibly.

I make no pretense about being a film or TV critic- or any other critic really- but sometimes something comes along that you simply cannot help but talk about. I am currently utterly hooked, obsessed, addicted (and several other participles along those lines) to BBC1's big budget drama The Deep. Not because it is brilliant, but because it is so hysterically dreadful in absolutely every way. It is a combination of the car-crash phenomenon (so bad you awful you cannot bring yourself to turn away) and schadenfreude of unhealthy proportions. It's not an attractive thing to see in yourself, but I cannot help but imagine James Nesbitt's feelings as he watches this total tripe at home and realises "Oh god! What the fuck were we thinking?".

First up, let me point out I am in no way attacking the BBC here. I love the BBC, for all its flaws. A corporation will inevitably have flaws and herculean failures by its very nature, so delivering a televisual atrocity like The Deep is entirely forgivable (although with a small caveat, which I will come back to). For every sinking ship (yeah, there's probably going to be more than a fair share of nautical analogies from here on in) like this there are triumphs that no other TV network would have the courage to even attempt. The recent brilliance of Sherlock and the current superb historical documentary The Normans are shining jewels in Auntie's crown, and would be more than worth my license fee even before we mention Test Match Special (cricket nut, sorry). Anyone using The Deep to beat the Beeb over the head with should be ashamed of themselves, particularly when it is compared with the interminable tripe the commercial terrestrial stations churn out, let alone the near-total absence of original programming on Sky. With that clear, let us get to the leviathan submarine shitfest itself.

In case you haven't seen it, here is a brief summary of what you need to know, spoiler free. You need to imagine this being read by that American chap with a deep gravelly voice and an overly dramatic delivery:
On a mission of amazing discovery below the Arctic ice, a submarine vanishes without a trace. Now, one man [it's always "one man". It's Jimmy 'Adam From Cold Feet' Nesbitt this time] joins a second quest bound to complete their work, and to honour the memory of his wife, lost on the first mission. At the last minute, a mysterious man from the Powers That Be arrives, ordering them to discover what happened to the previous expedition. Coming this Fall... starring Goran 'I wish I was still in ER' Visnjic... Minnie 'Why don't I get parts like Good Will Hunting anymore?' Driver... Toby 'That bloke from Rome' Menzies... and James 'appeared pissed on Buzzcocks' Nesbitt. THE DEEP.

And I've possibly made it sound better, more original and more exciting than it actually is. Oh, the other thing you need to know is that, pre-credits scene where the first lot vanish, we see Jimmy's Mrs. You probably won't be able to name her but you're sure to recognise the actress playing that character, which should immediately tell you a fair few of the upcoming plot twists. There's also a few other berks (who you immediately think should be wearing red shirts) along for the ride, all played by people you've never seen before. One of them- the charming but slightly dappy young lady- knows a secret about two of the main characters. Another is Russian. Another is the token chap with dark skin. If you cannot immediately tell me large portions of the plot just from that, you need another shot of espresso.

The list of flaws with this whole farce is very long, but the one that is utterly unforgivable is the plot. It is totally cliched, and every single twist is telegraphed hours before it comes along. To say there is no dramatic tension would be like saying there are no world class footballers playing for Grimsby- it does not quite convey how palpably unexciting the entire escapade is. No matter what else is going on, if your drama is based on events they have to be dramatic when they arrive- if you see them coming (and if they are things you have seen done many times before) they have no impact.

The unoriginality is a rather insurmountable part of this whole disaster. It looks for all intents and purposes like it was written by someone with a very limited range of inspirations. There's a rather obvious nod to The Abyss (mysteries of the deep and shizzle), another in the direction of The X-Files (shady goings on, mysterious bloke from "The Admiralty", big powerful organisations, weird happenings that seem impossible et cetera, et cetera) and possibly a touch of Lost here and there (I'll not explain that one as it involves a spoiler... oh fuck it, you'll see it coming anyway- they get stuck in "The Deep", and weird unexplainable shit happens). And most of the ideas have already been recycled ad nauseam. Add in a few more (dour ship captain who seems unusually unhelpful, overly friendly American working for the UN, Japanese computer wizard, extramarital entertainments) and it just gets even worse. But that's not even the worst bit about the problems with the plot. There are two even more awful.

It looks a little bit like a chronically untalented GCSE Drama student wrote the screenplay- obvious cliches from insanely famous shows/films, clunky and predictable plot twists etc- immediately after doing a weekend screenwriting course. There are some horribly crude plot devices.

The first ("The MacGuffin", the object which essentially does nothing but is the motivation for all involved) is a vague thing, a microorganism which will apparently change the world. It's never explained what the bloody hell it really is, how it could be found, what it could do or anything else really, which tells you immediately how unimportant it is in the plot- the writers couldn't even be arsed to work out what it is, let alone tell the audience. But hey, it doesn't matter, it's just a tool to get them to be where you want them to be so the events can take place, right? Wrong. The whole premise is that the mission is extremely dangerous, so dangerous that a previous attempt resulted in a loss with all hands and no evidence of what happened to them, not a trace. So why are this new lot going after them? It sounds bloody important. Yet we're not really told (at least we haven't had it adequately explained in the first three episodes, which is when it should be done) so why do we care about the mission? In short, we don't.

There's another huge one ("The Chekhov's Rifle", an object that immediately catches your eye at the beginning of Act I Scene I that must be used by Act III or not be there at all) in the shape of Jimmy N's better half. If you cast an instantly recognisable actress in an ensemble with few familiar faces, you instantly tell us this is significant. So when we barely see her apart from a few flashbacks, you make it clear that she isn't dead at all and will be found alive, it's just a question of when and how. It's painfully obvious really, and completely shatters any sympathy you have for the mourning widower.

There is without question a stonking great third one coming at the end ("The Deus Ex Machina", the sudden all-solving arrival at the exact point everything seems doomed to disaster that rescues the situation) that will bring this cataclysm to a conclusion. It really is all terribly amateur, as if written by someone who knows a little but lacks any real understanding or skill as to how that knowledge should be used. The daft thing is how clumsily all these elements are sewn together- the writers clearly had no clue how to tell the story, so a very small set of events take an epic length of time to happen. You wish there had been some immature bloke on the team who just wanted some big explosions and some shagging thrown in to liven it up a bit- given how tediously slow and relentlessly dull this all is, some accelerating of pace with some action (of either kind) would be a refreshing change. But no, the snail's pace endures. And in the yawning gaps between events, you realise just how many things are wrong with The Deep.

For a start the script is truly hopeless- clumsy, clunky, obvious, witless, without guile and lacking anything which resembles characterisation. The direction is equally shocking, and the way you realise this is the woeful nature of the acting. Minnie Driver and Goran Visnjic (and even big Jimmy) are good actors (yes, Goran's good- watch Deep End if you don't believe me) yet both appear absolutely useless here. When good actors look shite, it's either the script or the direction that's wrong. In this case, it's both.

The camera work is shite, again probably to do with the direction- no properly trained cameraman would be as wonky and crass as this (at times it's so bad it looks like outtakes) so it can only be because the director told them to do it. The costumes are bland. The set looks rubbish. The soundtrack is honking and irritating. The special effects are inferior to the graphics in Bioshock. The ditsy girl who knew too much died early on, and I'm quite sure the token Asian guy is about to be killed off soon (if he wasn't going to pop his clogs, they might have given him something resembling a personality- or as close as they could manage, anyway). They even have shady Russians turn up for crying out loud. And it is at this point that I have to take umbrage with the BBC just a little- that little caveat I mentioned before.

You cannot help but wonder how this ever got commissioned. At what point did anyone think this was ever going to be good? The plot and script are so utterly abysmal that you really have to question how it ever got to the point where someone gave the go-ahead for any money to be spent in the first place. Forget the shoddy dialogue and poor characterisation (and the other problems), it should have been obvious to anyone half awake that the premise was bad. Far too little happens- the events of the first three episodes could have been put into one and instantly become better, as there would be some pace and drama to it. This is a project that should never have got to pre-production, so without redeeming feature is it.

Yet I am completely hooked. It is totally awful in every imaginable way- I cannot think of a single thing that is good about it. But I will watch again next Tuesday, and the finale the week after. I have to see every episode to be completely certain that it does not get good at the end. I am taking a genuine pleasure in how dreadful it is, and would hate them to ruin it by turning it around- I want to be able to hold this up for years to come as a monumental Colossus of terribleness, and to remember it as possibly the worst big budget TV series ever made. It's so dire it almost goes full circle- it goes beyond shit to the point that its shitness becomes enjoyable.

Although it's probably just me.

How I became ashamed of my music, and why it is under threat from within

It's always the way. Having just got back from a truly cracking weekend at Knebworth and being generally in high spirits, I've gone and thoroughly got the arsehole. At first the cause was annoying, then it was boring- now it has made me ashamed. I've had enough.

First up, let me just emphasise my love for metal. I have no wish to try and sound like the target of a Brian Posehn song, I simply want to explain some of the things I adore. I am a fan of most styles to fall within the sphere of metal. I have a blind spot on hair metal- I've tried to like Motley Crue and Poison, but after multiple attempts we went our seperate ways amicably- but other than that there is no style I dislike. I don't claim to be an expert in every field- certainly my sludge knowledge could be improved- but I listen to more, I learn and my enjoyment of the wonderful world of distorted guitars grows yet larger. Obviously I have certain areas that interest me above others. Over the last few years, the sonic realms I have spent most time and effort rooting around in have been black and power metal. Wait, don't run away- this is not going to turn into a rant about how great they are. I'm barely going to talk about them actually, but my love for the evil and satanic and heroic and camp is the the crux of what has raised my ire. Namely, I'm almost becoming embarrassed to proclaim my adoration- not because of the lyrical content of either, the corpsepaint imagery or totally over the top nature, but because of the proclamations coming from other fans of this music.

The irony is that so many of said proclamations are damaging the very bastions they claim to be devoted to. There is a nauseating genre elitism permeating the extreme end of the metal spectrum and power metal. There is a (thoroughly daft) view that somehow these styles are somehow more valid, better and more METAL than other areas at the heavy end of rock music. This on its own I could tolerate, as much as it may annoy the living shite out of me. I think it frankly ridiculous that it isn't possible to like Watain (who are really very nasty), Black Breath (who *gasp* utilise breakdowns) and Dark Moor (who use lots of widdly keyboards and are very camp), but I really can't be shagged to get my ire up about the narrowmindedness anymore. What I cannot stomach is the desire to tell those who dare to enjoy Killswitch Engage that the music they like is crap, and that they are somehow killing metal. My irritation partially comes from the willful idiocy involved in that particular statement, partially because of the damage this obnoxious behaviour does to the reputation of the music I love, but particularly because it makes me ashamed. I am tainted by association, I feel.

Part of the lunacy involved in these proclamations is the vicious circle created. The perpetual excuse of the extreme metaller laying into hardcore is the attestation that hardcore kids are wankers. This is usually followed by a bleating whine about their years of being forced to defend their music to said hardcore kids. Naturally, this does not enamour this metaller to hardcore- fair enough, that might put me off myself, although I'd probably just stop talking to bell-ends instead. The barking mad part is the subsequent desire to deride fans of metalcore and hardcore they have never even met on the internet. Somehow, these deluded pillocks think that the ideal way to convert people to their way of thinking is to do the exact same thing that made them hate hardcore in the first place. In what mad world does it work like that? It is like the boy who tries to climb over an electric fence into a field and gets a shock, only for his mate to arrogantly try the exact same thing in the belief that he will fair better. You know what? The second boy gets a shock too! And yes, I am the second boy in question. Give me a break, I wasn't the sharpest tool in the drawer when I was nine years old.

Through current fans acting like complete and total tits, potential new fans are pushed away. That kid who's still finding his way through the maze of metal subgenres is put off from going down the path marked "Stratovarius" because of the bigger kid spitting abuse at him for having just come out of the tunnel with "Bring Me The Horizon" over the top. The bigger kid's actually rather lonely where he is and would like some company down Power Metal Alley, but in his rush to berate everyone for leaving him standing alone in the first place, he scares a potential friend away.

This insanity is putting potential recruits off the music. It is horribly damaging and utterly counterproductive- the phrase "cutting off one's nose to spite one's face" leaps rather Idowu-like to mind- but that is not the worst bit. What I simply cannot abide is the way all of this makes me feel. I will defend power metal to the hilt- ask any of the poor bastards I've badgered and bullied to listen to Fairyland- but to then turn around and see dogmatic fucktards (who clearly know far less about which they speak than they claim) dragging its name through the mud is too much. It is like standing up for your football club against claims of hooliganism only for a mass display of violence to break out at a home game. My feeling when I see this bilge coming from other power metal fans is similar to when I saw the footage of West Ham fans rioting down Green Street after the League Cup game against Millwall- shame by association. I almost feel like I'm a similar sized shitwad for belonging to the fanclub- I may take no part in the action, but I feel tarred with the brush myself.

My hope is that most of these pillocks will either grow out of their billious bombast or burn out, leaving those of us who do actually listen to other things to worship the widdly keyboard in peace. Until then, I'm just going to have to learn to live with it.

As if in proof, I'm going to stop listening to Blind Guardian and put on Feed The Rhino. I may even cut my hair into a fringe, shave off the beard and wear a hat. When all the people who claim to be the most metal are acting like arseholes, who wants to be metal?