If Gemma Collins’ life didn’t go t*ts up she wouldn’t have a career… her pity-party disaster doc knows this all too well

SKY One’s new Gemma Collins series got off to a bad start with the arrival of some hate mail which wasn’t wasting any time with introductions. “Are you still here, c*** face?” it began, before ditching the pleasantries and really ­letting her know what they thought. TV crew filming oversharer Gemma Collins for her new Sky reality show Credit: PA Gemma with boyfriend Rami – expect ‘drama’ Credit: Sky UK / NavyBee “But who?” Gemma understandably wanted to know, could send such foul and ­dangerous material. Sky One’s Head of Factual Entertainment? The bloke round the back of Krispy Kreme Doughnuts, in Romford? Essex County Council? Answers came there none. And we’re sure as hell not about to find out on Gemma Collins: Everything. All At Once, which is one of those eight-episode pity parties where everything that can go wrong does. Her relationship with boyfriend Rami, her family’s health, the goat that head-butted her at the local petting zoo. It’s all a disaster and couldn’t be anything else, truth be told, because if things didn’t go tits up, she’d have no show and no career. Episode one of Everything. All At Once does at least start on an optimistic note, though. Gemma’s life is all a disaster and couldn’t be anything else, truth be told, because if things didn’t go tits up, she’d have no show and no career Credit: Sky UK / NavyBee It’s shows like this that make Ally long for the black and white innocence of Seven Up, currently coming to a beautiful conclusion on ITV’s 70 Up Credit: Sky UK / NavyBee Animal-loving Gemma heads off for a relatively successful spell on I’m A Celebrity: South Africa cheerfully claiming “I say to Rami every year, let’s go to Chiang Mai and work for the elephant sanctuary,” because it’s not like he hasn’t put in the ground work on that one. By the time she returns, however? Catastrophe. All the key components of her life seem to have taken a distinct turn for the worse. Her redoubtable mum’s health has suffered and Rami, weak and foolish man that he is, has hit the bottle big time, which means the rest of the first two shows descend into one long drunken row with lots of recriminations. It’s not helped, of course, by the fact that Gemma is so desperate to conceive his child that, at one point, in St Moritz, she bellows into the Alpine void “Mountains. PLEASE GIVE ME A BAY-BEE.” Nearly engulfing the entire valley with an avalanche in the process. However much mindless abuse she suffers via hate mail, though, Gemma always remains her own worst enemy, forgetting to fast for eight hours, or even eight minutes, before the first phase of her IVF hormone treatment, and surrounding herself with ­hangers-on who tell her what she wants to hear rather than the cold, hard truth. There’s almost every variety of paranormal vampire lurking around in the background here, including some regular fraud called “Psychic Emma,” who The GC has got on speed dial when she views a new property. “Am I going to get this house? “Yes,” replies Psychic Emma, firmly, “You’re going to have the baby there.” An episode and half later, Gemma’s still not pregnant and the move has fallen through without any reference to not-so Psychic Emma. It was about this moment, though, when I remembered there are always three distinct phases to any TV programme featuring Gemma Collins. The first bit, which normally involves a pratfall (see ­Dancing On Ice), lulls you into the false idea it could be entertaining. The second is the dawning realisation her endless ego-mania and entitlement has become too much and it’s now boring. But the darkest and most depressing phase of the lot is the third, when you realise there’s no heartache or ­personal tragedy Gemma wouldn’t try to monetise and turn into a professional ­pantomime. It’s at times like this that I long for the black and white innocence of Seven Up, currently coming to a beautiful conclusion on ITV’s 70 Up. For here we have a landmark documentary series which plunges you back into a reticent Britain, of the 1960s and 70s, where the word “over-sharing” hadn’t even been invented and any enquiry about your private life was met with a polite smile or “no comment.” It means that when a personal tragedy does overwhelm any of the participants, the effect is far more moving and powerful than anything you’ll ever see on Everything. All At Once or practically any other TV show I’ve seen in the past 25 years. For those who weren’t lucky enough to grow up in the old Britain, I cannot recommend 70 Up enough (ITV, Tuesday, 9pm). Pregnant pause of the week. Last Night Of The Proms, Katie Derham: “Next, it’s time for Yuga Wang . . .” Cough, splutter. “One of THE great pianists.” Oh thank God. Worst quiz show answer of the week? Impossible, where Anesu was given the options of A)Mars and C)Venus in response to the question: “Which planet referenced in the title of a 1990s book by John Gray are men said to be from?” but instead chose option B). “Men Are From Uranus.” Which is actually a BBC Three dating show. Or will be, in about 18 months. Unexpected morons in the bagging area The Weakest Link, Romesh Ranganathan: “In fashion, the hairstyle where bunches are worn on each side of the head has what name: Hog snouts or pigtails?” Nikita Kuzmin: “Hog snouts.” The Chase, Bradley Walsh: “How many goals did Gordon Banks concede in the 1966 World Cup final?” Frazer: “Seven.” And Tipping Point, Ben Shephard: “The birthday of which political activist is celebrated in India with an annual public holiday on the second of October?” Jordan: “Guy Fawkes.” Random TV irritations Saturday Night Live: UK’s 24 writers, who haven’t got a punchline between them. Channel 4 shooting fish in a barrel with its England ’Til I Die stitch up. The right-on absurdity of Vigil’s lesbian crime-fighting duo – Starsky & Butch – trying to stop World War III breaking out in Svalbard. And those sad-sack Remainers who’ve turned up at the Last Night Of The Proms, every year since the Brexit vote, waving EU flags. Their eternal tragedy being, not one person even liked the EU enough to turn up at Last Night Of The Proms, with its flag, before the Brexit vote. C4 Need To Drop Big Bro Titanic waste of space called ‘Big Stevie’ Credit: The Garden Production Limited / Channel 4 Channel 4 never really let go of Big Brother. It simply altered the setting and changed the name of the show. The latest version is called Apocalypse, and it’s yet another “unique social experiment” which seeks to discover how a random bunch of 14 Anglo/Australian dickwits would cope after civilisation and order has broken down. Very badly, is the answer. Especially one titanic waste of space called “Big Stevie” who was, almost inevitably, the first of the “survivors” to use the makeshift toilet where he didn’t hold back with either the commentary or sound effects. “It’s happening.” (Splattering noises.) “IT’S HAPPENING.” As ghastly and useless as they all are, though, the problem for Channel 4, especially for those of us who live in the London Borough of Tower Hamlets, is that their version of the apocalypse doesn’t look much worse than a lot of modern-day Britain. Admittedly, the local supermarket, in the abandoned US town of Riverside, has been more efficiently ransacked than our local Sainsbury’s. But there’s a lot less graffiti, dogsh*t and litter, and C4’s armageddon has apparently wiped out all the pro-Palestinian crazies, cyclists and the entire lanyard-wearing class as well. So the voiceover guy needn’t sound quite so sombre when he asks if viewers are “interested in taking part in a potential new series of Apocalypse”. Because I’ll happily take the whole of next August, with an option to buy the abandoned mental asylum, if the rest of them have eaten Big Stevie by then. This week saw Zoe Slater became the first soap character ever to die from a sore head Credit: BBC The EastEnders cull began, this week, when Zoe Slater became the first soap character ever to die from a sore head. And lo, there was much wailing, gnashing of teeth and some very bad acting. Her mum Kat went all wobbly and shouty and Big Mo drew a sharp response from Jean when she said: “They should have taken me instead.” “Now stop that immediately.” No, she’s got a point. They really should. It’s a start, though. Meanwhile, among the new Big Brother contestants arriving by chauffeur-driven car, on ITV2, we had: “Full time mad bitch” Yasmin, who’s so thick she got lost on the way in, a Mad Frankie Fraser/ Derek Acorah hybrid from Liverpool called Philip, and gobby Glaswegian barmaid Millie who made the most ill-advised claim of all. “I’m going into this like Scotland went into the World Cup.” Dave, keep the engine running. Great TV lies and delusions of the month. Celebrity MasterChef, Grace Dent: “Celebrities, what you do in your everyday life is fabulous.” Big Brother, Lynx: “I need to start breeding soon.” And The Box, Joey Essex: “People don’t know Joey Essex is a lot smarter than anyone thinks.” Any thicker and he’d be a Stock Pot. Great sporting insights Paul Merson: “I said before the game, five minutes after it started, it would be like this.” Clinton Morrison: “We’ll hear about a goal before it happens.” And Dean Holden: “You can see Lamptey, just out of camera shot.” (Compiled by Graham Wray) TV Gold 70 Up reminding us that we used to make the best TV in the world Credit: Shutterstock Editorial Nick Ferrari’s priceless ‘oh-God-she’s-flipped’ expression as posh woke crackpot Ashley James detailed the previously secret links between Sydney Sweeney’s knockers and “The rise of fascism”, on This Morning. U&Yesterday’s addictive Bangers & Cash Live witnessing a £7,000 bidding war for a 1975 Yamaha “Fizzy.” Israeli TV’s brilliant drama Fauda trying to prick the conscience of a world that’s either deliberately forgotten or distorted what really happened on October 7, 2023. And ITV’s touching, funny and poignant 70 Up reminding us not just that a shy and retiring British nation once had to be coaxed on to the box but we used to make the best TV in the world as well. Lookalike of the week An alien from Outer Limits and Chancellor John Healey, left Credit: Unknown This week’s winner is an alien from Outer Limits and Chancellor John Healey, who could no more balance Britain’s Budget than he could balance Eamonn Holmes, at the end of a broomstick, on his chin. Sent in by Steve Mulvale, via email.