It’s hard to keep any show engaging for 14 series, especially one like Bake Off. It’s no mean feat to maintain the sparkle in a format that is replicated every year, through the move to Channel 4, the presenter shake-ups and limits of the pandemic years. Nonetheless, even if The Great British Bake Off is long past its best, it has managed to remain such a reliable source of sweetness that even its worst seasons were still a good time on the sofa.
But this year Bake Off has committed a cardinal sin, one even worse than awarding Russell Brand star baker for making biscuits in the shape of his wife’s genitals: it is boring.
When it started, Alison Hammond’s presence seemed to assure a good season. I said as much in my review, describing her as “the most lovable jolt of energy”. While the first episode was low on baking drama, a fun new era seemed to lie ahead. But something was amiss by episode three, AKA bread week. It was not just that the nature of bread week means contestants spend hours sitting around waiting for their loaves to prove. It was that watching them compete had become about as interesting as watching dough rise.
It’s hard to put your finger on what has gone wrong. Why was it that Paul Jagger making a bread lion back in season six felt as exciting as watching Luke Skywalker take down the Death Star, but this year, when Tasha won the showstopper round with a milk bread Medusa – featuring dark green plaited snakes emerging from a doughy face only a mother could love – it came across as a total snooze? It’s easy to see that something has gone wrong, though: Bake Off seems to have hit a ceiling, with few memorable bakes.
It doesn’t help that, for the most part, the contestants are all highly talented (there have been few humiliations in the challenges) – but are not injecting enough personality into the show. Saku is rather good fun, and seems to be having a whale of a time even when her bakes go awry, while fun-loving student Rowan and quick-witted admin assistant Dana seem like lovely people you would willingly have over for dinner. But the show lacks the personalities of Nadiya, Giuseppe, Ruby, Liam or Kim-Joy. I can think back to dozens of texts I’d receive each week about how incredibly cool and suave season seven’s motorbike-riding economist, Selasi, was, and how Twitter’s heart seemed to collectively break when he mentioned a serious girlfriend a few episodes in.
Unlike the bakers of the show’s golden age, these contestants are holding back more, making safer choices and being just self-deprecating enough to secure decent Instagram followings and perhaps a cookbook deal. In chocolate week, tasked with making a box, no one truly thought outside it and even the star baker Matty’s hole-filled effort seemed like something you could pick up at M&S. As a result, the energy is markedly lower. Cristy seems so tense that she would rather burn the tent down than be eliminated from it, but the chilled out likes of Dan, Josh and Dana seem to be shooting just to get through to the next week, rather than being the breakout star. Bake Off is sweet and cheerful, but it needs a lot more hubris to make its ultimately low stakes worth investing in.
Hammond remains a delight; she and Noel Fielding have excellent chemistry, but hearing them chat last week about their sleeping habits (both are night owls) while the contestants made hot-water pastry felt like a solid argument for switching off and having an early night yourself. It may be too much to ask of contestants to turn a 14th-century pastry technique into riveting TV but viewers need more
Plus, so many of the mini-dramas this season are overly familiar. It’s a sweltering day for chocolate week, you say? Revolutionary. A bake looks good, but the flavours need work? My goodness. The filling of a pie is delicious, but the pastry at the bottom is on the soggy side? Wowza.
With last week’s double whammy departure of Nicky and Rowan, it is hard to muster up much enthusiasm to turn on the TV tonight for botanical week. Sure, there will probably be some lovely flowery shirts on display – and if Saku gets a handshake she and I will probably shed a tear – but Bake Off has become a pale imitation of itsself. The last botanical week in 2010 saw Selasi, the internet’s boyfriend, nearly eliminated after coming last in the technical while social media had a mini meltdown at the thought of losing him. This year, beyond a smattering of Alison Hammond memes, it is hard to imagine anyone being devastated by the result, whatever it may be. Perhaps the truly devastating news is that 14 seasons of a show were bound to bring diminishing returns, and we should just admit that it’s pretty boring now.
Still, if Bake Off’s format teaches us anything, it is that you can rescue a disastrous performance by pulling off something spectacular – you can always turn things around with a showstopper in the final stretch. Let’s hope that happens … assuming enough of us are still awake to see it.
