The show that helps you find hidden treasures in your home, and then sells them for you at auction.The show that helps you find hidden treasures in your home, and then sells them for you at auction.The show that helps you find hidden treasures in your home, and then sells them for you at auction.
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- ConnectionsFeatured in Screenwipe: Episode #1.2 (2006)
Featured review
Giving this even one star seems disgustingly generous.
Sometimes you see something on television that is so unbelievably bad that it defies description. The sort of programme that makes your television set look like it's ashamed to be showing it to you. Sometimes you just sit there letting the torrent of garbage pour into your living room, through your eyes and into your brain where it is instantly beaten to death by the tremendous rage you feel when you actually consider that someone, somewhere allowed it to be broadcast in the first place. When I say 'sometimes' I mean everyday. At about 12.15. On BBC 1.
Cash in the Attic is the worst programme ever made. You may think there are worse programmes in the world but you would be wrong. If you enjoy Cash in the Attic there is something wrong with you. The only reason I ever watch this train-wreck of a TV show is because that is exactly what it is - and every day, while I eat my lunch I watch with twisted morbid fascination as gullible half-wits invite the most utterly repulsive people in television history to ransack their house and sell their treasured family heirlooms for what amounts to peanuts, just so they can buy a shed or something equally pointless and uninteresting.
How on earth do the producers of the show talk seemingly normal human beings into acting surprised when some spikey haired moron suddenly "discovers" a massive grandfather's clock that's sitting right in their hallway? "Wow, I've never seen that before, Jonty, well spotted. Now I'd like you tell me all about it even though I have a dog that knows more about antiques than you... also, while you're at it, why not bully me into selling it at a general auction for a fraction of what I'd get if I told you lot to get lost back to broadcasting school and sold the thing myself at a specialist sale... go for it, I'm desperate to be on television so I don't mind if you totally screw me over for other peoples supposed entertainment." I'd like to know who actually falls for that "look what I found!" pantomime. Who the hell has a bookcase sitting in a 1980s semi detached house that they didn't know about? No-one. Does Lorne Spicer actually give a monkeys about the manicure you're going to buy your dog with the "winnings"? No, her nods and smiles are as contrived as everything else in this programme. A dead marmot that could give more accurate evaluations than Jonty Hearnden. "I value this plate between £5 and £200." You don't say??? - you may as well just say "I think someone will buy this with money." Even more infuriating is when Lorne starts patting Jontys on the back, saying things like "Joanne's plate sold for a fantastic £5 - bang on Jonty's estimate!" NO - bang on estimate would've been £102.50, what you have actually done is sold it for nothing... but luckily, Jonty's estimate was so vague that it easily masks the fact that you've totally failed.
Finally, congratulations go to David Lowe for composing what is literally the worst music ever written. At least Bargain Hunt has the sense to use random parent-friendly electronica such as Mr. Scruff or the Avalanches - the producers of Cash in the Attic seem to think David Lowe's handful of relentless and repetitive xylophone solos will be enough to soundtrack every single episode since this crime against television started. I would be extremely surprised if someone could prove that David Lowe actually has any ears.
Cash in the Attic is the worst programme ever made. You may think there are worse programmes in the world but you would be wrong. If you enjoy Cash in the Attic there is something wrong with you. The only reason I ever watch this train-wreck of a TV show is because that is exactly what it is - and every day, while I eat my lunch I watch with twisted morbid fascination as gullible half-wits invite the most utterly repulsive people in television history to ransack their house and sell their treasured family heirlooms for what amounts to peanuts, just so they can buy a shed or something equally pointless and uninteresting.
How on earth do the producers of the show talk seemingly normal human beings into acting surprised when some spikey haired moron suddenly "discovers" a massive grandfather's clock that's sitting right in their hallway? "Wow, I've never seen that before, Jonty, well spotted. Now I'd like you tell me all about it even though I have a dog that knows more about antiques than you... also, while you're at it, why not bully me into selling it at a general auction for a fraction of what I'd get if I told you lot to get lost back to broadcasting school and sold the thing myself at a specialist sale... go for it, I'm desperate to be on television so I don't mind if you totally screw me over for other peoples supposed entertainment." I'd like to know who actually falls for that "look what I found!" pantomime. Who the hell has a bookcase sitting in a 1980s semi detached house that they didn't know about? No-one. Does Lorne Spicer actually give a monkeys about the manicure you're going to buy your dog with the "winnings"? No, her nods and smiles are as contrived as everything else in this programme. A dead marmot that could give more accurate evaluations than Jonty Hearnden. "I value this plate between £5 and £200." You don't say??? - you may as well just say "I think someone will buy this with money." Even more infuriating is when Lorne starts patting Jontys on the back, saying things like "Joanne's plate sold for a fantastic £5 - bang on Jonty's estimate!" NO - bang on estimate would've been £102.50, what you have actually done is sold it for nothing... but luckily, Jonty's estimate was so vague that it easily masks the fact that you've totally failed.
Finally, congratulations go to David Lowe for composing what is literally the worst music ever written. At least Bargain Hunt has the sense to use random parent-friendly electronica such as Mr. Scruff or the Avalanches - the producers of Cash in the Attic seem to think David Lowe's handful of relentless and repetitive xylophone solos will be enough to soundtrack every single episode since this crime against television started. I would be extremely surprised if someone could prove that David Lowe actually has any ears.
helpful•58
- eraserheadmusic
- May 20, 2008
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