Sharon Osbourne's chat-show

[faceless]

I'D RATHER GO TO CHURCH, SHARON
5 September 2006

IS THERE some sort of government by-law I don't know about? One that decrees we HAVE to have some middle-aged, redhaired harridan plastered all over our screens? First it was Cilla Black, then it was Anne Robinson. Now it's Sharon Osbourne, who has taken over the airwaves - first with The X Factor and now with hour-long daily doses of The Sharon Os bourne Show.

As the manager of her husband Ozzy, Sharon got a reputation as a hard-nosed super-bitch - she made Madonna look like one of The Tweenies. So how did such a woman get to this position of prominence in British television? It certainly wasn't down to public demand. As the tumbling viewing figures for her chat show confirm, Mrs Osbourne is one of those public figures who has become famous without ever actually being popular. Cilla was warmer and more endearing. Robinson is wittier.

Osbourne's main characteristic is her naked ambition and her vanity. (All that plastic surgery to such little effect). The chat show format allows her to bask in the fame she has garnered by riding first on the coat-tails of her husband and now Simon Cowell. But every five o'clock her lack of charm is laid horribly bare. Sponsored by Galabingo.co.uk, The Sharon Osbourne Show is so shallow it makes Paul O'Grady's version of the same format look like Othello. To call it tripe would be to insult pigs' innards.

With guests of the calibre of Debra Stephenson, Chico and Edna from The X Factor, its sole purpose is to plug ITV shows like Corrie, Where The Heart Is and (you've guessed it) The X Factor. Even so, the level of questions - uttered in that ridiculous, bogus squeaky voice of hers - is insultingly inane. "Do you enjoy playing Frankie?" she asked Stephenson, penetratingly. (She does.)

Although Osbourne promised that the show was going to be "all about fun", each episode is suddenly pitched into a suspiciously cynical item about some poor kid who has survived some terrible illness. All of which allows Osbourne to look like some kind of saint as she doles out free sunshine breaks and the latest PlayStation games "thanks to our friends at Sony and Portland Holidays". Each hour-long episode sees Osbourne's smile becoming more and more joyless. She can't read the autocue, has no natural repartee, and moves around the set with all the grace of a very short elephant.

Above all, fatally, it seems as if Osbourne can't make up her mind whether to be the audience's best mate or play the super-rich diva. After her appearances on X Factor and now a week of this, I'm heartily sick of Sharon - sick of her face (what's left of it), and sick of her furry rat of a dog. Each time she screeches the website address, "itv.com slash Sharon", two words flash through my mind: "Good idea!"

The Charlotte Church Show, on the other hand, confirms that Church is a spunky young talent with humour, energy and, yes, charm. Ms Church's problem is that she's a girls' girl presenting an ostentatiously "zany", faintly risque late-night show for lads and old queens. To my mind, Church would be perfect for five o'clock in the afternoon - the slot currently occupied by Mrs Osbourne.

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Well, that was a fairly scathing review eh? I even agree with him about Charlotte Church being better suited to that time-slot!