The British Soap Awards: Why did EastEnders walk away virtually empty handed? Because it's completely lost the plot

The British Soap Awards: Why did EastEnders walk away virtually empty handed? Because it's completely lost the plot

A night of triumph for useless EastEnders as the Cockney rabble walked away virtually empty handed from the easiest awards ceremony in the world.

Apart from Adam Woodyatt’s ludicrous “Lifetime Achievement” honour for turning up to play Ian Beale getting married for 28 repetitive years, the BBC’s most popular programme won precisely nothing.

Nominated in 15 categories at The British Soap Awards, Albert Square’s humiliated losers were beaten every time.

No mean feat... considering this daft event is only open to a total of five shows. Including unwatched Hollyoaks and even more unwatched Doctors.

And while, thanks to ridiculous gongs like Sexiest Female and Best Exit, it’s hard to take this annual bunfight seriously... the Beeb’s notoriously complacent bosses really ought to sit up and take note.

Because their flagship drama has completely lost the plot. Can you remember when it last put a foot right? Me neither.

It’s borin g enough that we’re forced to endure one child custody battle. But two? No one cares about either of them.

When gymslip mum Lola finally got her daughter back from weirdo Phil there were sighs of relief all round...

Mainly, from fed up viewers after an endlessly far-fetched saga that dragged on for so long I estimate that Lexi must be at least 25 now.

Sorry... but screaming Lola giving birth in badly named fast food outlet McKlunky’s (would you like placenta with that?) while pointless character (one of many) Billy Mitchell carried the Olympic torch never stood a chance of netting the Most Spectacular Scene prize. ­Because it wasn’t spectacular.

Still with tug of love kidszzzz... unrealistic couple Michael and Janine continue to wage war over baby Scarlett. Which is almost as uncompelling as Carol’s unlikely romance with Masood.

Meanwhile, the clumsy attempts to attract a younger audience have resulted in The Only Way Is Walford. A gagg le of uninteresting youths pathetically playing the dating game. Love is in the airhead for Abi and Jay, Lauren and Joey, Joey and Lucy, Whitney and Tyler, Poppy and FatBoy. All cardboard cut-outs whose amorous antics are just juvenile. And therefore dull.

Talking of dull... on to pill-popping Sharon Rickman and her allegedly harrowing addiction to painkillers that appear to have no effect whatsoever. Except she passes out once every two weeks.

“Git art,” stormed fuming Phil as he chucked the big old blonde out of his “arse” (house). Heartbreaking, moving, poignant... it was none of these things. If you’ve been ­affected by Sharon’s story... switch to ITV, where Emmerdale Rhona’s junkie ordeal is so much more ­plausible.

Then there are the constant awkward dinner parties, as pioneered by tawdry Tanya and mad Max. Who, of course, now lives with unpregnant Kirsty and her lips.

And most depressingly unimaginative of all... newcomer Dexter has been reunited with the father he never knew. A long lost relative. Wow, what an original idea.

Until recently we were sublimely unaware of Dexter’s existence. Why should we give a damn about his deadbeat dad?

Or his mum, for that matter. Especially, since she turns out to be â€" yawn â€" Tanya’s long lost sister.

It’s all so achingly tedious. With its affairs, fires and exotic pregnancies, Corrie is streets ahead.

Collecting the well deserved Best Soap trophy, Weatherfield stalwart Malcolm Hebden told the minor star-studded crowd: “I’m not quite sure why I’ve been chosen to accept this award.”

Because Bill Roache and Michael Le Vell didn’t turn up. Gee, I wonder why...

It's the battle of the blands

A mere two hours, 10 minutes of The Voice. Epic fail. Literally.

Do the reality TV illiterates at the BBC really think the bizarre Battle Rounds are that great? If so, I’ve got bad news for them...

Last night’s endless parade of pub singer wannabes caterwauling into each other’s faces was as absurd as it was tedious.

Mind you, I spent most of a laughably long evening trying to work out the rules. Which are more complicated than chess.

“A prize place in the knockouts at stake,” boomed Reggie Yates. “And two still positions remaining,” added Holly, confusingly.

Who gets saved? Who goes home? Who’s available for stealing? (stealing what?) Who knows what the hell’s going on?

Old Tom cried when some fat guy belted out Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me. But not as much as “West End star” Liam, who lost his nan. Where?

“I just have to say something,” screamed dreadful Jessie J. We know you do, Jessie. We just wish you wouldn’t...

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The boundless ambition of The Valleys role model Jenna continued apace as she received an exciting offer to go topless in a lads mag. “This is my dream!” she squea led. “Getting my boobs out for a national magazine.” Inspirational.

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TV gold... Old Ma Osbourne rejoining The X Factor. Australia With Simon Reeve. Jason Isaac’s punch-ups in Case Histories. TV dross... ITV insisting on another series of Dancing On Ice. The excellent Kelly Brook quitting Celebrity Juice. The frightful Fearne Cotton returning to Celebrity Juice. The “acting” on Hollyoaks...

Alex is in sum difficulty

Over to The Apprentice’s ship of fools... where devil-lookalike Alex Mills unnecessarily declared: “I don’t mind dressing up as a scarecrow.”

Yep... it took a lot of guts to wear such a cheap suit. But what Mr Mills lacks in sartorial style, he more than makes up for with his mathematical genius.

As he bartered to buy an ocean of milk, the Welsh “company director” mumbled: “That’s £17... divide that by two. Er... get a calculator!” These sums can be so damned tricky.

“What are those?” he later inquired. Carrots, Alex.

After a pointlessly early 5.20am start, our hopeless heroes were given the task of setting up a couple of farm shops. Which, naturally, they screwed up in spades. Especially the boys team... who didn’t have a prayer from the moment they were foisted with disastrously dim Uzma. She’s fired!

As the victorious bimbos outlined their barmy buffalo meat masterplan, “Lord” Sugar quipped: “You was in East London, not the Wild West.” No, Al... it’s: “You were in East London...”

You can take the Cockney out of Hackney...

Rednecks rolling in it

Here Comes Honey Boo Boo... week two. And our thanks to massive Mama June for solving the mystery of the many toilet rolls.

Turns out that the reason she fills her home with tons of bog paper is she gets it free. Because Mama is an enthusiastic devotee of extreme couponing. Or “queueponing” as she pronounces it in her inscrutable Southern drawl.

“Anybody who queuepons will tell ya it’s an addiction,” she explained. “It’s better than sex!”

Some might say it’s certainly better than sex with 22-stone Mama. But I would never be so cruel.

“I ain’t no Barbie doll,” she conceded. “But I sure ain’t the ugliest girl in the world.” Oh I dunno...

Never mind... beauty is in the eye of the toothless beholder. And on their eighth anniversary, Mama’s partner Sugar Bear (a human, just) took her for a three-dessert meal and eagerly anticipated his afters.

“Ah’m hopin’ to get a l’il somethin’ of somethin’ later,” he drooled. Oh God.

Meanwhile, will seven-year-old Alana ever win a kiddy beauty pageant? Who cares?

And does The “Learning” Channel’s everyday story of American hicks sorely exploit Mama and her hilarious family? Maybe.

But they’re rich rednecks now. So everybody’s happy. Yee ha!

Satire my eye

How did Ch annel 4’s hugely unpopular sat­irical current affairs programme 10 O’Clock Live react to the big story of the day?

With characteristic quick-thinking brilliance...

Take it away unfunny Lauren Laverne: “As we all know there’s been some tragic news in Woolwich. But as events are still unfolding we’re going to be concentrating on the rest of the week’s news.” What a dazzling display of ­comic cleverness.

Satire’s job is to tackle the difficult subjects. If this is the best this witless bunch can do they might as well forget it.

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Aside from providing the basis for a self-serving not very interesting TV show, what was the purpose of Sky One’s Eddie Izzard’s Mandela Marathons? Oh dear... heroic Eddie’s poor feet are in a bad way. Wear a pair of trainers then...

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- Bafta sensation Made In Chelsea... and semi-gay Ollie asks: “How many times a week are you supposed to have sex?” W ith other people? Or yourself?

- All Star Mr Mrs... and theatrically thick Joey Essex reveals his fiancée Sam’s favourite animal: “She likes mouses.” Yes, they have very small brains.

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Embarrassing Bodies Live From The Clinic... while neurologist Paul Anderson answered “penis questions”, 38-year-old Mark from Galway whipped out his infeasibly large testicle and Dr Christian gasped “Oh wow!” How reassuring...

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I always feel a bit sorry for people who don’t understand that Keith Lemon is a fictional character. Which brings me to the series finale (at last) of ITV2 masterpiece Peter Andre: My Life. Ahead of his Celebrity Juice mauling, Pete simpered: “I know Keith... and he’s a lovely guy.” He doesn’t exist!