JACI STEPHEN: Soggy bottoms latest... Pope Jude hasn’t got one
The Great British Bake Off
Wednesday, BBC1
Rating: 
The Young Pope
Thursday, Sky Atlantic
Rating: 
Watching dough rise makes watching paint dry look like Armageddon. But in The Great British Bore Off… sorry, I mean, Bake Off… I discovered that there is something even less exciting: watching someone watching batter rise.
In Batter Week, Val could have been viewing Gone With The Wind for all the emotion she displayed staring through her oven door waiting for the elevation of her Yorkshire puddings.
There have been so many other thrilling moments during what was the last series before the transfer to Channel 4 (and we must all be grateful for that – oh, the joy of commercial breaks to alleviate the tedium).
Mel, Candice and Sue waft together in the final of The Great British Bake Off
Andrew blushing when he was named Star Baker in Dessert Week (I swear he was on the cusp of self-combustion when he won Wednesday’s Technical Challenge); Selasi having a nervous breakdown in Patisserie Week; Jane’s three-tier orange gateau in Botanical Week that looked like Donald Trump after a car crash.
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Would the excitement never end? And then there were three. Jane, Candice and Andrew, who made it through to the final where they had to bake a meringue crown, Victoria sandwich and a picnic fit for the Queen.
There were tears from Jane, struck by ‘the emotion of finishing’ (I shed tears on that score, too, but for an entirely different reason – let’s call it relief ).
Andrew impressed with his grandmother’s chocolate cake recipe; and I have no idea what Candice did because I have never been able to tear my attention away from her red lip sculpture, which must take her as long to apply as any task set by the programme.
Highlight of the week was a naked Jude Law, who appeared at precisely two minutes, ten seconds into The Young Pope
The show is immensely popular and there is no doubt it is well made; just because it’s not my thing doesn’t mean I can’t recognise its quality.
But this series’ contestants have been incredibly dull. Watching people cook or bake is inherently boring, but what makes all cooking shows work is the quality of the characters taking part, the judges and the skill of the presenters to turn a domestic chore into entertainment.
Contestants aside, TGBBO has been faultless in its choice of presenters and judges.
Appalling innuendo aside, Mel and Sue brought a light-hearted naturalness to proceedings; Mary Berry and Paul Hollywood never cease to astound with their ability to find a thousand ways to say the same thing (your food sucks, or it doesn’t).
My problem (and I know I am in a tiny minority) is that I suffer from misophonia, a hatred of sound, and it’s especially bad around people eating.
When Mary and Paul descend upon the food, their mouths are too close to their microphones.
In Pastry Week, my nervous system went into meltdown when Mary devoured a Danish, the sound of which I’ve not heard since Leonardo DiCaprio wrestled with the bear in The Revenant.
And so, the Bake Off tent is no more: a construction that delivered a feel not so much Upstairs Downstairs but Upstairs Sideways, as the middle-class servants prepared their goodies.
It’s the end of an era, certainly, as the BBC loses to commercialism and the great British buy-off.
In the end, it all came down to dough.
Highlight of the week was a naked Jude Law, who appeared at precisely two minutes, ten seconds into The Young Pope.
The Holy Father (or His Hotiness) is the first American Pope, having been handed over to an orphanage as a kid.
Supported by mentor Michael Spencer (James Cromwell), the latter was distraught after the ultimate betrayal, having coveted the job for himself.
Pope Lenny is something of a loose cannon, among a lot of not-so-loose canons. He won’t let his image be used for commercial purposes and delivered his inaugural address to the masses in shadow.
He is more traditional and strict than any of the people around him, although there is a hint of a sexual past, as seen four minutes, 24 seconds in with his memory of a naked female.
Helping him through his new path in life is Sister Mary, who brought Lenny up (Diane Keaton in a wimple – I have no idea why that is inherently funny).
The Young Pope is one of those masterpieces which occasionally comes along that makes you breathless with the brilliance of it all.
Acting, writing, direction, music, lighting (oh yes, the lighting is sublime) – it’s a joyous piece of work.
There’s a mesmerising performance from Law, whose stillness of features conveys a thousand things going through the Pontiff’s mind.
What is his big secret, and will his nemesis Cardinal Voiello (Silvio Orlando) discover it through his spy?
Who are Lenny’s real parents? Most importantly, will we see any more of Jude Law’s beautiful body?
Is the Pope Catholic?
