It’s back and once again I can’t tear myself away. As soon as I flick channels and see the Apprentice I can’t resist, sucked in by the ridiculous bluster and banter. All is present and correct: ‘Sir’ Alan Sugar telling crap anecdotes about his mighty empire while tacky plastic Amstrad goods lurk in the background (email phone, your time is up), a group of hateful business types acting like five year olds, a thankless ‘sales’ task that seems more like a school fund raising project and the obligatory tears before bedtime.
It’s formulaic, it’s pathetic, yet I can’t resist. Each week I cannot fathom what makes these people tick, how they can come out with so many ridiculous business school blandishments (profit, motivation, energy, leadership, profit, profit, profit), then push and bully people to buy something and think they still qualify to be part of the human race just doesn’t compute.
This season’s picks so far are the bloke who humourlessly maintained that their team name should be the A-Team because they encompass all the qualities they hold dear (ambition, drive, commitment yadda yadda yadda) and get the job done. When this fell on thankfully deaf ears he made the sterling and highly original suggestion of Winners. Second place goes to the crazily over the top woman who continually whoops and hollers at every opportunity in a vague attempt at a David Brent team-moral seminar. My toes have curled through 180 degrees.
Even if you were a massive fan of uber-capitalism and big business you’d be selling-up and moving to the country after this show. To think that these child-like imbeciles are the cream of industry is even more alarming than the thought that sane professionals run the economy.