Aitch's June Sky round-up

  • Dexter, Fridays 10pm, FX
  • Promzillas, Fridays, 10pm, Sky Living

Dexter, the orangiest TV sociopath since Dale Winton left our screens, is back for a fifth series, and as usual he's covered head-to-toe in blood. This time, however, it's his wife's.

For those of us who have followed Dexter from the very beginning, it's been touching to see how he has changed from a tortured observer to very nearly becoming one of life's participants. This is the guy who, on his first date, pretty much confessed to being an axe murderer, don't forget, before popping out to toss another dead body into the boot (and Rita, The Perfect Woman, just smiled).

You may already have seen episode one of the new series, in which the Big-Haired Psycho learned what it is like to represent the grieving party for once, in a funeral home almost ostentatiously styled after Michael C Hall's old home Six Feet Under. "So this is how normal people do it?" Dexter thought to himself. "No Hefty Bags, no diesel fumes..." Well, it's what Rita would have wanted.

Surprisingly, for a man so accustomed to modern police procedure, he also forgot NOT to tell his colleagues 'it was me'. They have thus far ignored his guilt-ridden protestations, thank goodness, because they know he's a good guy and because his sister is their pal and has the best bod in the Miami Metro area (oh yes she does). We viewers can ignore him because we know it was The Trinity Killer wot dun it. Phew. Onwards and upwards, Dex, onwards and upwards. And bring a machete.

PromzillaAs the mother of two young daughters, Promzillas is the sort of programme that I need to watch from behind the sofa. Is this what the world of the teenage female has come to, a bump'n'grind debutantes' ball with more fake nails and hair extensions than a bitch-fight between The Saturdays and Girls Aloud? What was so wrong with a leavers' disco and six bottles of pineapple Bacardi Breezers round the back of the loos?

Nice girls Neelam and Halfi are pushed up, primped and princess-processed by the styling team of Brix Smith Start (ex of The Fall and Gok's Fashion Fix... I'll leave you to take in those worlds colliding... I Am Curious Hot Pink, perhaps), a hairdresser called Stephen and Gary Cockerill, the blonde, Botoxed, highly veneered make-up man best known for propping up Katie Price of an evening.

And you know what? The three 'fairy godparents' are LOVELY with them. They're even kind to the Nasty Girls Sophie and Amal, who are determined to become prom queen whatever the emotional, spiritual and financial cost. "Four pairs of shoes for the Prom?" says Sophie's mum Sharon. "Alright, my dear..."

For all Sophie and Amal's hand-flapping declarations of superiority, the title race isn't a shoo-in, and there is tension in the room when the voting begins. Best quote of the night goes to a rather plain unnamed lass who smooths down her ill-fitting shiny finery and declares to the camera crew: "I think I deserve to win Prom Queen because it took me SO LONG to look this good." If the world worked like that, love, we'd ALL be adjusting our tiaras.

 

 

Last updated: almost 2 years ago