Given that I’ve been at uni for six months, it’s fair to assume that I’ve watched all the things I’d like to watch on Netflix (Secret Diary of a Call Girl, Outnumbered and – nearly – all of those reality shows). No judgement please.
So it’s slim pickings these days finding something that’s easy watching and listening when I’m catching up on uni reading/ having my ready meal for tea/ bored out of my mind.
It was only by chance that last weekend, I put ‘The Royle Family’ on – with the idea that if I fell asleep it didn’t matter because I wouldn’t be missing much. Five episodes later I was still awake, actually laughing out loud (a lot) and loving it.
I was only five or so when the episodes actually aired. My friend’s family loved it but I always struggled to see the entertainment in it (probably due to the fact that Tracy Beaker was my idea of ‘top telly’). The only thing we did enjoy was counting how many times Jim said ‘bloody’ – what used to be the “worst” swear word we could say but get away with. The irony being that the recurring “my arse” joke went over our heads. Nothing like a sheltered life eh.
I don’t want to sound all ‘super-fan’ here, but… what’s not to love?! I’ve gotten through both seasons, so that’s about 13 episodes in the space of five days – and that’s not including season three which I had to watch in parts on YouTube. And with a pubescent (and somehow attractive?!) Ralf Little – who always manages to be wearing something Adidas – it’s hard to switch off. Clearly.
Now I’m older – and wiser(?) – I can fully appreciate the humour Denise and Dave (the co-writers) created. And mainly, because it reminds me of being at my Gran’s house, on the sofa, watching the telly, with one of us kids being made to brew up at every interval of Emmerdale and Corrie.