The Apprentice: Week Seven

[SPOILER ALERT! . . .]

I'm remembering the visceral excitement from last year when you get down to the last eight. Sharon and Michelle, once almost an interchangeable double act, were split up, on account of Michelle not having been Project Manager. In a neat piece of choreography for the fashion task, she and Tuan (the only other PM virgin) were made captains, with the team of three getting to choose who they'd most like to work under, putting Michelle in charge of my-personal-favourite-again Ruth, the all-too-genial Ansell and plank-walking Samuel.

Meanwhile, smooth-talking Syed, ineffectual Tuan and cocky Paul got to patronise Sharon, even though she was the only one with fashion experience. They sidelined her when choosing their lines for the Top Shop sell-off, and Tuan's negotiating genius ensured that they somehow managed to allow Ruth to take exactly which lines her team wanted (the catwalk-hot "Gothic" and "Admiralty", a word very few of them could actually say), while he came away with seconds. Now that's what I call sleight of mouth. (To use the correct pronunciation of his name, it was a case of, "Tuan" - "You certainly have been".) This put Sharon into a sulk, which Syed complained was bad for morale, and when they finally got to the shop floor, she quite understandably took her ball home and refused to make any fashion decisions for useless Tuan. "I don't know" - that is his catchphrase.

Treats from the task itself included Michelle skiving off in the VIP area and selling a thirty quid skirt to three timewasting French tourists after an hour and a half of buttering them up and feeding them miniature bottles of champagne; Ruth once again proving her licks in the cold, hard act of selling shit to people; Syed ogling a seemingly willing female customer in the pink changing rooms; Ansell and Samuel in their New Romantic scarves (that is so not a good look!); Syed annoying Paul with his "fucking skinny jeans"; toad-like Top Shop boss Philip Green gracing the shopfloor and asking for a hundred quid's worth of outfit - while Ansell fucked about, Ruth admirably came up with one and was then criticised because it only came to sixty-six quid. This bit was worth the price of admission just to see Sir Alan in a state of awe in the presence of the retail king.

Again, a few quid separated the two teams in the final count, and Michelle's team lost. The victors went off to a country house hotel for hot tubs and clay pidgeon shooting, a prize presumably tainted for Sharon, who must surely despise every one of the three blokes she had to spend it with, despite Syed's pathetic attempt at peacemaking, his toast conceding that she looked very glamorous in her dress. (Actually, for a fashion "expert", poor Sharon looks quite horrible in most things she wears and needs Trinny and Susannah to sort her out.)

Michelle should obviously have taken Ansell and Samuel back in to the boardroom for the kill, but, in an overt play for Sir Alan's sympathy, she took his advice and let Ansell off the hook in favour of her mate Ruth (whom he had pilloried mercilessly just because she didn't impress his boyfriend Philip Green). It was never going to be Ruth. As long as she's selling shit, Ruth is the only truly competent female apprentice, mirrored only by Paul. If one of these goes in the next few weeks, it will be a miscarriage of justice. I have even learned to like Ruth's boardroom bulldog scowl. We're in the groove of Sir Alan's sense of drama now, and if he gives one of the three a lengthy dressing down, usually the PM, it's always one of the other two who gets fired. Today, after a beating for absentee-manager Michelle, but with every justification, it was Samuel, whose catchphrase, "Can I just finish speaking?" was finally answered. Yes, you can finish speaking. In the cab.

There are still too many makeweights left. The non-micromanaging Michelle did herself no favours today. Tuan likewise. Syed, like a wounded and frightened animal, has stopped the flipchart bullshit and resorted instead to swearing. He'll take on any fucker in the house. He may have to.


Previous reviews:
Week One
Week Two
Week Three
Week Four
Week Five
Week Six