TV review

Get A New Life (BBC2)

AT the start of Rudest Home Videos, a statement warned of rude pictures and crude language. We should also have been alerted that this was as low as a programme can go. If you thought that You've Been Framed was dire, watch this and have your mind changed.

What comedienne Jo Brand, who usually seems such a sensible woman, is doing hosting this show is a mystery. As if home videos of people peeing in public, sitting on the toilet and scraping wallpaper in the nude wasn't bad enough, we have to put up with Brand cracking jokes about Jim Davidson and Paul Daniels ("it's not big, it's not clever, it's Paul Daniels").

The audience in the studio laugh themselves silly, presumably because someone is paying them to do so or laughing gas is being fed into the air conditioning system. There can be no other logical reason because a lot of the clips show people in potentially dangerous, perhaps fatal, situations as they set themselves on fire, are dropped on their head and electrocute themselves. It can only be a matter of time before we are treated to Jo Brand's Goriest Home Executions.

Relocation series like Get A New Life also depend on viewers being spectators of other people's misery. If the family's move to a new home and new life goes smoothly, the result is very boring indeed.

This week, the Bensons from Hertfordshire - Ken, Michelle and five-year-old George - packed their bags and headed for Italy to open a bed and breakfast and turn their interests of skiing and cycling into a tourist business. The idea was to have more of an outdoor existence, there not being much call for skiing or cycling in Hertfordshire, apparently.

The BBC programme provides two experts, Mel and Scott, to help them get started and funds their first month abroad. They were surprised about the Bensons' realistic expectations. Normally, those seeking a new life reckon on walking into highly-paid jobs and luxury homes with the minimum of effort.

The couple's desire for an outdoor life seemed all too likely as they had problems finding accommodation. Getting jobs proved equally difficult, mainly because of the language barrier. They only began learning Italian three weeks before leaving this country and headed for a part of Italy where very few people speak English.

Ken's idea of organising cycling holidays also took a dent when he learnt that a hotel that specialised in welcoming cyclists had only booked in five the previous year.

And to cap it all, the weather was as rainy, if not rainier, than over here. It could have been worse - they might have had to watch Rudest Home Videos on the telly.

Grease, Newcastle Theatre Royal

THE UK's most popular hormone-enhanced musical remains a theatre boss's dream as every seat is snapped up and small children rub shoulders with great grannies to shooby-dooby do-wop to their hearts' content. An ageing beefcake-sized male cast makes us struggle to recognise the Rydell High School angst of skinny 17-year-olds but amiable Jonathan Wilkes is immensely enjoyable, topping the bill as Danny Zuko, the Mr Cool who falls for a geekish girl. Mr W's dance steps won't give 1978 film star John Travolta sleepless nights, but the fact that it was the year Wilkes was born certainly might.

Plenty of punch and panache from the creative team fails to hide the fact that debutante Suzanne Carley struggles to deliver the important singing performance of Sandy, who transforms from cardiganed girl next-door to leather-clad ladette. Being blonde with a big smile isn't quite enough. Mary Doherty is one of the best Rizzos on tour for a while and the role of overweight Jan allows another fine young singer, Karen Holmes, to capture our attention. Jason Capewell hams it up beautifully in the twin roles of DJ Vince Fontaine and high-pitched Teen Angel in Frenchy's dream scene.

Overall the effect is more rinky-dink than beauty school dropout, but I never thought I'd see terms like Cats and Chicks and Bombshell having to be explained as 1950s slang terms in the programme notes. Strangely, Mooning didn't have to be.

l Runs until Saturday. Box Office: 0870 905 5060

Viv Hardwick