Most telling thing about BBC’s nauseating Romesh-fronted propaganda film is what was MISSING from it

DID anyone else find themselves dwelling on the ­sadness of Danny Murphy’s missing cat during that dreadful World Cup Final? ’Cos I spent the entire first half, second half and extra-time period wondering what became of Bob, who, as we discovered during the group stages, jumped in a Royal Mail van years ago and has never been seen again. With a captive audience of 15.8million people, all begging for a return to football, someone decided it was exactly the right time for a propaganda film Credit: BBC It was based on a similar 1985 advert, of course, with John Cleese Credit: Supplied Indeed, the only time I wasn’t distracted by thoughts of Danny’s cat was during that half-time break which rewrote the history of the tournament and the BBC, in 27 minutes and 19 seconds. An extraordinary hiatus that began with dear old Madonna being wheeled into position by her two fat Brazilian carers and ended with Wayne Rooney achieving national treasure status thanks to a single word.“Crap.” A less extravagantly smug and stupid organisation than the BBC would have left the song-and-dance numbers well alone at that point, having salvaged an unlikely last- minute ratings win from the 2026 tournament. But with a captive audience of 15.8million people, all begging for a return to the football, someone decided it was exactly the right time for a propaganda film, starring Romesh Ranganathan, the nation’s most overused presenter, asking the ironic question: “What has the BBC ever done for me?” It was based on a similar 1985 advert, of course, with John Cleese, which is well worth another view on YouTube, where the difference in licence fee costs (£58 then, £180 now) is nothing like as stark as the contrast in ­personnel. Back then, the BBC could call on The Two Ronnies, Alan Whicker, Terry Wogan, Michael Hordern, Esther Rantzen, Barry Norman and David Attenborough. Now? Well, they could’ve tried matching them with Michael McIntyre, Bradley Walsh, the cast of Line Of Duty and Sir David Attenborough, who was heard but not seen during Sunday’s broadcast. But the obsessively diverse 2026 version of the Beeb would rather make a stupid woke point than a convincing one, so, among others, we got Sue Perkins, the Asian network, Greg James, Ian Beale, Netflix’s Louis Theroux, Remi Burgz and the missing-in-action Doctor Who. Others were far more obscure, but probably wouldn’t have grated quite so much if Romesh hadn’t tried to convey their “magnificence” via the medium of rhyming couplets which neither scanned nor made much sense. “They introduced the nation to someone called Adele. Warned fishermen in Aberdeen about a tidal swell. “So what if they verify news thorough-ly? What has the BBC ever done for me?” On a parochial note here, I want to point out Peterhead, NOT Aberdeen, is north-east Scotland’s big fishing port. Although it is instructive to see the city you adore reduced to a single ignorant stereotype by a bunch of London media tosspots. Boasting about the rigour of your news organisation is also a dangerous game when you’re currently being sued for £10billion by Donald Trump and have just had to apologise to Nigel Farage for falsely claiming he told Britain to respond to Henry Nowak’s murder with “white cold rage”. With propaganda films, though, what’s left out is often more telling than what’s been included. In Sunday’s film, the word “comedy” had been entirely erased, just as it almost has been by the BBC. Drama was turned into “storytelling” and sport was reduced to brief mentions of Wimbledon and Match Of The Day. A wise move, I think, as Sunday’s ­ratings win shouldn’t blind anyone to the widely held opinion that the BBC’s 2026 World Cup coverage wasn’t as good as ITV’s. This was partly down to the excellence of pundits like Roy Keane and ITV’s brilliant ­refereeing expert Christina Unkel, but owed even more to the fact the Beeb ducked the fight and broadcast from Salford until the quarter finals. They claim this was “to save money” (drop the propaganda films, then). Others hint, however, that it was done because the BBC is now so utterly compromised by the cult of woke it didn’t want to be seen favouring the men’s tournament over the women’s version, which was also covered from Manchester, until the semis, in 2023. You know which tournament 99.99 per cent of fans would rather win, though, and I know which version I believe. And it’s this crippling political correctness, combined with the staggering arrogance of the BBC, that begged the obvious response at the end of Sunday’s advert, when they asked us to try to contemplate a world without Lolly Adefope, Mr Tumble and I Kissed A Girl. But I’d actually like the ­verdict to be delivered by someone else, for once. “Stuff your Apprentice, your Match Of The Day, your Louis Theroux. “None of this has to exist if you don’t want it to . . .” Wayne? THE World Cup Final, BBC1, Guy Mowbray, as the camera panned lovingly past Mick Jagger and Robbie Williams, below: “Adrien Brody’s in the stands. Who isn’t in the stands?” Real fans. Unexpected morons in the bagging area HOUSE Of Games, Richard Osman: “Which nursery rhyme character was a ‘Merry old soul’?” Danny Miller: “Nat King Cole.” Lightning, Zoe Lyons: “The Chancellor of Germany from 1969 to 1974 was called Willy . . . ?” Josh: “Thorne.” And Mastermind, Clive Myrie: “In a series of films released in the 1970s and 1980s, the police homicide officer known as Dirty Harry is played by which actor?” Elsie: “John Cleese.” TREWLEY IS TRULY AWFUL Trewley-Precious Sunshine boomed back to life on another C4 series called Secret Lives Of The Gypsy Wives Credit: Louis Wood News Group Newspapers Ltd THE enduring problem with foghorning reality show cretins? They never quite go away. This week’s example being Trewley Precious Sunshine Temple (Real name: Trewley Precious Sunshine Temple), who made 20 grand and a massive nuisance of herself on the 2023 series of Channel 4’s Tempting Fortune. A glorious three-year silence followed. Until Tuesday night when she boomed back to life on another C4 series called Secret Lives Of The Gypsy Wives, presumably because Ofcom would take a dim view if it was titled Skank Nation. The fact is, though, Trewley isn’t married, overshares everything and is only half-gypsy (half-Atlas stone). But, hey, C4’s got an obsession with “the travelling community” and a spare hour to fill, so they followed her slavishly around Essex where Trewley listed all of her hopes, dreams, grievances and a bunch of people who sounded more like the Blue Peter rabbit hutch than “nieces and nephews”. “Thomasy, Benji, Tini, Baby Rossi, Jamie Junior, Dolly, Winnie, Adorabella, Lovie, Bunny . . . ” And Dave. On and on it went, until the first episode eventually came to some sort of conclusion at the Southend Cliffs Pavilion leg of GK Barry’s UK tour where “special guest” Trewley answered questions about vibrators and her sister, Ruby-Anne, and made this bold statement: “You cannot cage a person like Trewley.” No, but we must never stop trying. Random TV irritations JOURNALISTS who think referring to Argentina as “La Albiceleste” makes them look exotic and clever. Fern Britton: Inside The Vet’s referring to a dog owner as “his mum”.Netflix reminding me how much I always detested The Little House On The Prairie. The pathetically adoring way Good Morning Britain presenters refer to Andy Burnham as “the king of the north”. And the sure and certain knowledge that if they ever make an audio book of paint drying, it’ll be narrated by Kevin Maguire. TV gold Kathryn Hunter’s performance in Ann Droid is brilliant Credit: BBC KATHRYN HUNTER’S brilliant performance as Eileen the neighbour in Diane Morgan’s beautifully observed new BBC1 sitcom Ann Droid. This Morning’s frankly unmissable “Dogfather” phone-in segment with Graeme Hall, where viewers pose such conundrums as: “My dog keeps forgetting to poo.” Josh Kerr’s world mile record, at the Olympic stadium, live on BBC1. The heroic Konstantin Kisin cornering loathsome, smirking bully Alastair Campbell, like a rat, on his superb Triggernometry podcast. And the tragedy and triumph of Wayne Rooney’s career, which means this sublimely talented footballer’s greatest ever contribution to the World Cup was dropping a 100-kiloton truth-bomb on the final’s half-time show: “I like a lot of them acts, but I thought it was crap.” Great sporting insights KYLE WALKER: “I feel like I’ve covered every blade of flooring.” Declan Rice: “I don’t know why there’s question marks, but I understand why there’s ­question marks.” Ian Wright: “Spain literally passed France to death.” (Compiled by Graham Wray) Lookalike of the week This week’s winner is ‘Heather’ Herbert, who is accused of celebrating Ann Widdecombe’s tragic death, and one of the Hanson brothers, from Slap Shot Credit: Supplied Sent in by Craig Milne, Fife. FERN BRITTON: Inside The Vet’s, with a bloated Jack Russell: “When this lump started, how long ago was that?” Newsreader, Westward Television, March 1980. Oh . . . The dog? SYCOPHANT of the week? Netflix, Gary Lineker’s The Rest Is Football, John Obi Mikel attempting to butter up Lucy Bronze: “Lucy, do you know who you remind me of, every time I see you play? “You know a certain player called Cesar Azpilicueta?” “Yeah.” Well it’s not him. Get real. RE: Commonwealth Games. Funny- sounding foreigners to look out for include: Fijian basketballer Filimone Waqabaca, Timothy Tuna, who’s an athlete from Papua New Guinea, a swimmer from Brunei who sounds more like a question, Hayley Wong Ann Yue? (No, me not Wong at all. And India’s David Beckham Elkatohchoongo who, by the time he takes part in the Elite Keirin, will hopefully have settled his differences with Brooklyn Beckham Elkatohchoongo.