The Apprentice: Week Five

[SPOILER ALERT! Blah blah blah . . .]

The teams, all mixed-up genderwise, had two days to produce a TV ad and a billboard for an as-yet non-existant credit card for Sir Alan's private jet business. This is patently ridiculous - the exec from Saatchi said they'd usually get 12 weeks - but hey, any excuse to see our business bad people making arses of themselves. The team led by Paul, the fattest of the men, thought they were in with a chance as one of them, Sharon, uniquely, knew about advertising. Unfortunately she just taught it. Once. And was - you're ahead of me here - seemingly devoid of any advertising instinct or opinion. The team spent the first five hours not coming up with the concept. At the end of day one, they went back to the house with no concept. Then Paul had an idea in the car: something rubbish to do with a card trick. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up when he announced it. Sharon gave it the green light with her vast ad knowlege. Out of all the ideas they'd had, it was the best. Paul was confident they'd win, as the other team "didn't have the brains".

The other team, led by Ruth, the fattest of the women, had an idea. but it was the wrong one, based on the 14th feature of the card conveyed in what I understand is called a "fact find" (in other words, a meeting) with Sir Alan's softly spoken son, Mini Sir Alan: the concierge service. Ansell was the weakest link as he alone bigged this up. And yet, when all was said and done, he escaped boardroom censure by dint, I think, of being a nice chap. Mani, who certainly claimed always to have been against the concierge idea, is a dickhead, and thus found himself blamed when the writing was on the wall.

Suffice to say, Paul's team won, and, to be fair to the self-satisfied egomaniac, he did a good presentation to the entire, grumpy-looking creative staff of Saatchi - don't forget these people work in a building with NOTHING IS IMPOSSIBLE carved into the doorstep and have "blue sky labs" with a blue sky painted on the ceiling: they must be hard to impress. Off they were sent to drink champagne out of little bottles at London Fashion Week.

Ruth dragged Jo - out of bitchy spite, as she hadn't done much wrong beyond be all goggly-eyed - and Mani back in to face Sir Alan's Muppet-faced wrath at their shitty film. Ansell snuck away, guiltily, I hope. They were quite the unpleasant trio, with Jo doing her usual indignance, Ruth screwing her face up at any disparaging remark like the character Pig off of Pipkins (no offence), and Mani trying to oil his way out of the firing line. "I'm a world-class presenter," he told the camera. "You've gone from achor to wanker," said Sir Alan, a line he'd obviously been dying to use, the old rogue. After the usual dummying, he fired Mani, and I breathed a sigh of relief. The English language may now move freely, unmolested. (What was he on about when he raised his "60,000 feet point"?) In the cab of death, Mani claiimed he had not yet peaked. On this programme you have, mate.

I can't wait to see the footage of Jo returning to the house next week. Air will be punched. The words, "Get in!" will once again echo round the living room. What a bunch of goons.

Previous reviews:
Week One
Week Two
Week Three
Week Four