There are many shows that enable members of the public to share their deep personal and relationship problems with the baying lynch mobs who form talk show audiences, and who wouldn’t want to be told that their boyfriend/girlfriend was having an affair in front of potentially millions of people sat at home? Only Springer manages to avoid taking itself too seriously, and manages this by a LONG way!

I don’t think I need to outline the basic format of the story, but I will anyway. Guest comes on, says what problem is (usually having an affair, or maybe they are secretly gay/were born a man/ cross dress), their partner then comes on and is told the news, they try to beat the snot out of each other while being held apart by security, mistress/other person involved in the affair or fetish then comes on and stirs things up for more attempted violence, and then Springer shares an obvious moral message that makes us all think about why these people were so stupid to come on the show.

The real entertainment kicks in with the way the guests are virtually controlled by the audience and the producer. For example, a technician plays various sound effects to add to the humiliation. Without exception, if there’s a lull in the attempted violence, the technician will play the sound of a boxing bell and in a Pavlovian reaction they give that extra effort to try and ram each other’s fists down their (ex) partner’s throat.

Audience participation also keeps things lively, often by the crowd chanting that they want the competing women to lift their tops and flash their baps. If this happened in real life (i.e. asking a woman who’s just found out her boyfriend is boning some trailer park pig-face to put her emotional pain on hold and show her tits), you’d be lucky to keep your teeth! However, on Springer you are treated to a pixelated glance of breasts as they try to show their superiority to their rivals like stags comparing antlers!

It’s not just the women though- in a real treat of freakshow tv, one show featured 2 midgets (or little people) who were seeing the same woman. Soon enough, the cry of “Naked Midget Fight” errupted, and Grumpy and Sleazy happily agreed to strip to their boxer shorts before trying to beat the sh*t out of each other. Classic Springer!

Compare this to Jeremy Kyle, the most popular British talk show at the moment that often features teens who aren’t sure whether they should still be going out with the bloke they had a drunken one-nighter with and who is the father of their repulsive spawn. The audience in this must just go along because it’s the one chance they have to feel superior to another human being, and seem to revel in the disgust they display towards the scum on stage. At the centre of this is Kyle himself, who spews sanctimonious tosh and glares at his guests as if they have just farted and followed through at a family funeral!

Jeremy Kyle was discussed last year by a Manchester District Judge, who was hearing the case of a man who assaulted another man while on the show. Unsurprisingly, the defendant had been somewhat angered to find out that his wife was having an affair, and when confronted by the love-rat simply headbutted him in the face before security could step in. Kyle responded by pouring superior scorn on the kind of man who has to resort to violence in these situation, without ever acknowledging that his circus of misery had orchestrating the whole thing. The Judge described the whole show as a form of bear-baiting, which sums it up beautifully. There was also the disclosure that producers have been known to give cans of extra strength lager to alcoholic guests, just before they appear on the show. remember folks, Jeremy Kyle is just there to try and help people face up to their problems (providing they also provide entertainment and decent ratings in the process). The guy’s a hyena posing as a therapist, picking over the carcass of working-class relationships while claiming to help.

The only solution is to move away from moralistic self-improvements, and admit that you want to run a freakshow. instead of lie-detector testing, put a pole in the corner and make competing dole-scroungers dance round it to discover who the cheating boyfriend really fancies. Have extra footage of the waiting room before the guests go on stage, where they have access to Scarface-like mountains of cocaine, opium pipes, and pints of Absinthe to make sure they are really flying by the time they appear on screen. Even better… make the women compete in a round of Bap Conkers to determine who is the true champion!

What’s Bap Conkers, I hear you ask? be patient ladies and gentlemen, and soon all will be revealed!