The revival of a beloved television format promises a treasure trove of humor. The concept involves a clueless individual taking on a task well beyond their qualifications, leading to a series of comedic blunders. Think along the lines of, “Next week, watch as 46-year-old Rachel from Lewisham attempts to run the country’s economy!” Or, more relevant to this discussion: “How will Tim, a 58-year-old soda salesman from Croydon, fare while managing a major broadcasting network? Tune in next Monday to see his encounter with employees Huw and Gary.”

This familiar premise is the foundation of Faking It, a popular reality series from the early 2000s, now making a comeback on Channel 5. The initial episode featured Rex, a youthful, privileged man educated at Stowe, who worked as a luxury estate agent in Surrey but was transformed into an everyday market trader. Unfamiliar with the town of “Bolton,” he was misled into thinking it was a quaint village—a misconception quickly corrected. Rex’s previous position involved selling extravagantly priced properties to celebrities and royalty. In his new role, he was tasked with portioning low-cost cuts of meat for budget-conscious consumers in Manchester while under the supervision of butcher Tony Frame.

With his pristine teeth and stylish suits, Rex epitomized the stereotypical upper-class character often seen in caricatures. He received assistance from Tony, who suggested a friendlier approach to customers, advising him to use terms like “luv” instead of “ma’am.” Although most participants enjoyed themselves, Rex appeared to struggle physically and mentally. However, he persevered through the challenges, which included a complete image overhaul with a buzz cut and a name change to “Rob,” encouraging him to adopt more relatable language.

The conclusion of this light-hearted series turned out to be unexpectedly poignant, as working-class vendors cheered Rex on throughout his journey. It was a reminder of the connections that can be formed across class divides, a topic that remains relevant today.

Meanwhile, in an effort to inject some novelty into the saturated crime drama genre, ITV has introduced Code of Silence, showcasing perspectives from the deaf community. The plot centers on Alison, who works in a police cafeteria and is skilled at lip reading despite her deafness. She becomes an informal resource for the police during a crime investigation, filling in for the absence of regular lip readers. While Alison is portrayed as a capable and tenacious character, the storyline follows the familiar tropes of ‘ingenues’ taking on significant challenges.

Played by Rose Ayling-Ellis, who is deaf herself, Alison’s performance effectively captures the anxiety and thrill of her new role. The nuances of her lip-reading technique provide a temporary distraction, but for viewers fatigued by repetitive cop dramas, it may be a tough series to stay invested in. Set in Canterbury, the police characters appear much more engaged and articulate in their duties than they seemed during my time there.

If there’s one crime that requires thorough examination free from conflicting conspiracy theories, it’s the tragic Lockerbie bombing of 1988. The BBC1 program, The Bombing of Pan Am 103, provides a dramatic reenactment, following dour Scottish detectives on a global quest for answers. Their investigation includes interrogating a Maltese tailor with a surprisingly detailed recollection of events, alongside a Pan Am representative whose report absolved the airline while suggesting CIA involvement. Despite some awkward dialogue during technical explanations, the reconstruction evoked the public’s outrage, showcased the resilience of the victims’ families, and highlighted the various agendas at play.

In the world of sports, Gary Lineker is bidding farewell as he presents his final Match of the Day on BBC1. While his controversial remarks and criticisms of the BBC have led to his early exit, his expertise as a presenter will be missed. Lineker was known for his charming approach, humor, and skill in engaging former players, regardless of their lack of insight.

He rightly expressed concerns about the future direction of MOTD, predicting an increase in analysis at the expense of game highlights. If this shift occurs, the show may transform into something resembling MOTD2, where the discussions often veer into the unnecessarily complex rather than focusing on the straightforward excitement of football. Personally, I prefer extended highlight packages that provide context to the goals scored, as football should essentially be an entertaining experience—even for Millwall supporters like myself. Lineker grasped that concept, but his frequent interjections about political matters became his undoing. A loss indeed.