I genuinely thought that the pandemic would finish it off, yet The Apprentice rumbles on regardless, wheezing through its 20th year like a burnt-out exec coming up to retirement. By now, it really should be playing golf and shouting at clouds.
Everything about the format is comically redundant, including the ultimate goal – becoming Lord Sugar’s business partner. Surely that was never a real prize in the first place. But now it would be career suicide, like volunteering to be the Smithers to Mr Burns.
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Anyway, I’ve been ignoring it for years, but I decided I would dust off my Amstrad VHS player and watch it, just to keep it company. But it turns out I needn’t have bothered, because this series is doing really well in the ratings, even in a world where you can stream Pedro Pascal into your frontal cortex.
I suppose the secret of its enduring success isn’t Lord Sugar, or the boardroom, or Baroness Brady making weird faces like she’s sitting on a sea urchin. One thing that is evergreen, and some would say currently flourishing, is incompetence, and The Apprentice has it by the bucketload.
AI would have real trouble trying to emulate the astonishing idiocy of this year’s contestants, who would have to go on a six-month training course to find their own arses with both hands. In the episode I watched, their challenge was to make and market their own hot sauce, and the results were, as you might imagine, “more fiasco than tabasco”. (Copyright: Alan Sugar’s Crap Puns Inc.)
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