Arresting television

I like to see myself as something of a thought-leader when it comes to watching and promoting new sitcoms to my friends. I'm not egotistical enough to say that it is always only me who hears about them first or expresses an interest in watching a new comedy after seeing a trailer advert, but in bringing something new to a large group of people, I have previous form. Peep Show, The Office (US), Curb Your Enthusiasm, Modern Family, Community, and most recently Fresh Meat… I've seen something I've liked in all of them and spread the good word, much like Jesus would have if he was a television critic. But there's one series that I've heard about for a long time but never quite got round to watching, until recently: Arrested Development. And it's as good a sitcom as anything that's been aired before.

In a synopsis you will have heard before, it revolves around a dysfunctional family – rich, in the public eye and for most of whom the wealth has definitely gone to their heads, and the majority have never worked a day in their life. But the structure is anything but a repeated formula. Arrested Development is narrated, by none other than Ron Howard (who doubles as an executive producer), often with pithy and scathing observations on the characters, while also being self-effacing – near the end of season three, when there was doubts over the programme's contract being renewed, the show mocked this by satirising the lengths that others have gone to in order to save their own skins, introducing one episode with a blockbuster opening showing stills of the main characters (and a racist granny never before seen) stating "IN TONIGHT'S EPISODE, ONE OF THESE CHARACTERS WILL DIE!" – willingly ruining its own suspense halfway through by informing us that it will be the racist granny – while also urging viewers to wear 3D glasses to add an extra dynamic to proceedings… all very tongue-in-cheek, and all very un-American.

Which is why there are currently only three seasons. Arrested Development was lost on the American audience, its humour too British and, to hazard a guess, too intelligent for many stateside to understand. It dealt with subjects that other US shows stay clear of for fear of causing offence or alienating parts of its targeted audience. Some of the story arcs were brilliantly constructed, none more so than the youngest son Buster having his hand bitten off by a seal accidentally made bloodthirsty and subsequently released into the ocean by Gob, the alpha buffoon of the family, but looking back on previous episodes the narrative dropped in unseen hints of this happening – including Buster winning a cuddly toy seal in a fairground claw machine, and previously owning an Art Deco-style hand-shaped chair. It's moments like this that you can only sit back and marvel at the ingenuity of the writing – and at the same time, can hardly fathom why more seasons were not commissioned.

But the world has a way of righting wrongs. I started watching the first season several months ago – and the very next day, years after Arrested Development had ceased production, an announcement was made confirming a fourth season and a cinematic release. Its cast have gone on to become stars in Hollywood themselves, including Jason Bateman, Michael Cera and the fantastic Will Arnett, but it's testament to the belief held in the show by the actors, producers, and above all the fans, that there is more to come from this wonderful sitcom.

Escape from reality

In a world of ever-decreasing attention spans and lifestyles outside the outdated concept of the nine-to-five working day, television executives have a fight on their hands to retain their audiences and keep producing programmes that make people tune in on a regular basis. There is one unlikely candidate on our viewing schedules that has concocted the perfect formula, and that is Hollyoaks.

Over a decade now, I've dipped in and out of the show with varying degrees of interest. After school and college it formed my after-dinner viewing, while a snapshot of university life would depict a scene of my housemates in front of the programme, sprawled on sofas underneath a 'Girls of Hollyoaks' calendar. But as I entered the working world of nine-to-five Monday to Friday, I found myself behind a desk, travelling home or doing something else until gradually the show slipped down my list of priorities until it barely registered at all.

But the key to Hollyoaks' longevity is its ability for its audience to pick up where it left off. There are no wholesale changes to the cast with a plane crash or train wreck writing off half of the actors, so you'll always recognise the characters. Its storylines begin slowly but build momentum into a snowball effect over months and months, reaching a climax which has avid fans and casual watchers gripped in unison.

I write this as I watch a week's worth of episode back to back, after having barely watched Hollyoaks in recent years. But I'm right back into the drama, fixated by a tapestry of threads interwoven into each other, encompassing blackmail, deceipt, affairs and murder - 'nothing ventured, nothing gained' appears to be the motto, finding something for everyone. It's twenty five minutes of pure, sheer, unadulturated guilty pleasures - and no matter how long I leave it until the next run of episodes I watch, be it weeks, months or years, I know I'll be returning to a familiarity that can't be found elsewhere.

Cue Hollyoaks theme tune *dow-down-dowedy-dow-dow-dooowwwwn*

Let the Games begin

As expected, Stuart Pearce has been named as manager of the men's British football team at the 2012 London Olympics and, amid misgivings from Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland that their footballing identities will be weakened and overshadowed by an abundance of English players, he has to pick 18 of the Home Nations' finest footballers aged 23 and under – with the exception of three players over 23 by the time the Olympics start at the end of July next year.

It is my opinion that, in order to satisfy all parties, the team selection will have to be inclusive of all four countries while selecting a squad with sufficient depth to challenge the best of the world for the gold medal. Several of the biggest names in Great British football currently have already come forward and stated their enthusiasm for taking part, Gareth Bale and David Beckham among them.

Crucially, however, a sticking point will be the European Championship held in Poland and Ukraine. Many of England's current crop of talented youngsters will be hoping to make the squad and, in a world full of optimism and naiveness, the final of Euro 2012 on 1 July. Already mindful of the lack of rest and recuperation so badly needed in the absence of a winter break in the Premier League, club managers will be reluctant for their English hopefuls to go on and compete in a second tournament so soon after the Euros, and so close to the start of the 2012/2013 season.

Wrong kind of shell suit...

With all of this in mind, and ignoring potential injuries and suspensions, try putting yourself in Stuart Pearce's shell suit and pick a squad of 18. I've come up with the below, but see if you can do better.

Goalkeepers: Wayne Hennessey (Wales, over 23); Ben Amos (England)

Defenders: Kyle Walker (England); Phil Jones (England); Chris Smalling (England); Ryan McGivern (Northern Ireland); Craig Cathcart (Northern Ireland);

Midfielders: David Beckham (England, over 23); Aaron Ramsey (Wales); Darren Fletcher (Scotland, over 23); Gareth Bale (Wales); Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain (England); Barry Bannan (Scotland); Cory Evans (Northern Ireland)

Forwards: Daniel Sturridge (England); David Goodwillie (Scotland); Andy Carroll (England); Simon Church (Wales)

Day of the Undead Little Girl

I am a man, an adult male, and I have no qualms in proclaiming the following: there is nothing scarier than a little girl.

To clarify – specifically, I mean little girls used in horror films, oft in shadows, appearing at the end of a bed in the dead of night or ghostly visions with bedraggled hair. They freak me out; give me a deformed monster in a film any day of the week and I won't bat an eyelid. But, so help me God, Vishnu, Tom Cruise and all the other faces of religions, I will run for the hills if I see an undead pre-teen girl. Which is exactly what Phones 4 U's latest advertising campaign features.

I had the misfortune to first see this advert when half-watching while eating my dinner. It's a blink-and-you'll-miss-it beginning, so all I was aware of was the woman hurrying to her car in an empty underground car park, so it came as a heart attack to me when the creepy prepubescent popped up in the back seat. What's more, I work around the corner from the flagship Phones 4 U store on Tottenham Court Road and they've emblazoned their shop front with photographs from their latest campaign, images that send me scurrying back to the office to quiver in fear underneath my desk and jumping every time the phone rings.

I don't seem to be alone in my agitation, as the Advertising Standards Agency has received hundreds of complaints about this advert. According to Marketing Week, the ads are "unsuitable for children to see". It's not the children I'm worried about – unless they're dressed in Victorian nightdresses, their faces are covered by lank strands of hair and there are whispers of playground melodies infiltrating the air – it's me.

I, for one, cannot wait for Halloween and the month of October to be over.