On Planet Cobblers

Sunday Mirror, Aug 24, 2008 by Kevin O'Sullivan

COME with me to a fantasy land where business is booming and there's no such thing as the Olympics.

Welcome to wonderful Weatherfield - the polar opposite of the real world. Beijing? Never heard of it! Credit crunch? What credit crunch?

While the rest of Britain grinds to an economic standstill, a weird little backwater called Coronation Street is brimming over with lucrative opportunities

Especially for swivel eyed Scotsman Tony Gordon - the world's worst tycoon - whose plans for a multi-million pound development in the middle of nowhere beggar belief. This guy would go bust faster than you could say recession. But on Planet Cobblestones goodness knows anything goes.

Apparently unaware the property market has crashed, gormless Gordon was all smiles as he threw a champagne reception and toasted the completion of his pokey block of flats.

"Please raise your glasses to Victoria Court," he said. "Let's hope it breathes new life into Weatherfield." I'll drink to that. But we should be so lucky.

Out of touch and disastrously out of decent ideas, this is the folksy soap that time forgot. And it desperately needs modernising.

Throughout an unexciting week of all our yesterdays we suffered the ridiculous saga of Pam's pickle. Did Molly lose the late, great Vera Duckworth's engagement ring in Aunty Pam's disgusting relish? Who cares!

As this stupefying storyline finally fizzled out, pint-sized garage owner Kevin Webster faced ruin after his pickup truck was stolen.

"Recovery is 20 percent of our business," sighed little Kev, who could see absolutely no way out of his dreadful predicament. Of course, he could have hired a replacement vehicle. But that's exactly the kind of logic that would have wrecked this entire stick- thin drama.

Talking of far-fetched plots from another age, why on earth does terrible Tony want to buy the diminutive Mr Webster's 1950s style mechanics shop? As a money making enterprise, it's a total non- starter.

On the subject of doomed small-town speculation, ruthless Gordon is also after Rita Sullivan's 1930s style newsagents. What for? And where does this guy get off offering poor old Jed Stone - a long forgotten character last seen 42 years ago - pounds 2,500 for his terraced house? Memo to scriptwriters: this is the 21st century.

"I set myself goals n and I achieve them," bragged Tony, whose current goal is clearly to go bankrupt as quickly as possible. But what a white-knuckle ride as ancient Emily Bishop forgot the pin number to her credit card.

Wow... the mother of all cliffhangers!

Meanwhile the Morton family remains completely pointless, boring Michelle boasts about her thrilling trip to Belgium and Deirdre and Ken have stopped rowing.

Yawn.

Come on Corrie - raise your game. Even realityshy EastEnders is delivering more topical entertainment than our criminally old- fashioned friends in the North.

And I can't say worse than that.

WHAT DO YOU THINK?

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