Firing the fired

For a show with a fairly simple premise – people trying to sell things – _The Apprentice_ includes a fair whack of self scrutiny. We’ve got Alan Sugar weighing the contestants up, we’ve got

contestants weighing themselves up (“I’m the reflection of perfection”), we’ve got a portentous voiceover throughout the show, and we’ve got a camera which forces us to hate everyone in it.

But it’s not enough to have an episode cut into bite-sized pieces, or even auto-digested: now it’s regurgitated in front of a live audience as a comedian sorts through the vomit with a

novelty toothpick. This last bit is called “The Apprentice: You’re Fired”. The BBC2 spin-off is a “friendly” retrospective discussion in which the hapless contestant gets ripped to shreds

all over again, only this time he has to pretend he’s enjoying himself.  It looks like an odd experience for him, similar to a parent-teacher evening or perhaps a visit to a consortium of

therapists. He’s so utterly the most powerless person there, and everyone talks over him, about him, trying to work out “what went wrong”. He’s the butt of all the jokes – often much sharper

than Alan Sugar’s put downs – but can’t fight his corner like he can in the boardroom, only grin sheepishly. The worst thing, though, is that they’re not even all professional, legitimately

superior business people. Half are amateurs or comedians (although they all wear suits). This leads to cutesy-mean, completely unanswerable remarks, like Jenny Éclair’s whimsical

observation to fired contestant Michael: “I don’t know much about business, but I think sometimes, maybe, getting the taste right for a sauce is quite important.” Thanks Jenny, good to get a

fresh opinion. Last week the parent/teacher evening theme was carried further with a head boy-like contribution from Tom Pellereau, the previous Apprentice winner. In sharp contrast to the

hapless Michael, he’s “doing really well”, a shining example to everyone: cue sage approval from the panel. Depressed, Michael gives up trying to get the conversation onto equal terms. The

familiar therapy/school speech rhythms get to him, and he starts to apologise. “I agree, I wasn’t tough enough. I didn’t fight my corner” That’s ok, Michael, that’s ok. They gracefully

accept his apology. They make more jokes. They look slightly uncomfortable. He gets a free toy at the end. It’s actually very entertaining.