Every time there is a pool, an opaque white cup, a villa, sunny skies and a format that encourages young British people with inexplicable rib tattoos to be competitively horny, I must invoke Love Island. So, Love Island: it was such a clean, neat format – put the hottest people from every mid-size town in Britain in a villa for a month and a half, take away their concept of time, make them half-naked and bored, and watch how they fill the hours with drama. Despite it peaking from 2017 to 2022, there have been three series since the Davide and Ekin-Su summer (Maya Jama hosts it now, if you even care!) – but the fizz has faded from the prosecco. Will that stop other TV channels and streamers trying to copy its rare magic, by giving their crews a free holiday to a mainstream European beachside destination? No. Mainly because they probably started the production process when Love Island was still watched and good, and now it isn’t, but it’s too late to unattend all those meetings and decommission all those shows.
And so to Hot Mess Summer (Prime Video, from 7 February), which probably seemed like a good idea in 2022. The idea is this: eight young British people with inexplicable rib tattoos are sent to Zante. They are promised a summer of mess, chaos, partying and boozing – a Geordie Shore reboot, essentially – but then Rylan stalks into frame like a big cat. “You’re not here to do a Geordie Shore reboot,” he solemnly tells them, more or less. “You’re here to work in the biggest bar in Zante for a summer, and all your mates nominated you to do this, for some reason. They’re sick of you. They’re all sick of you, mate. You’re all too big a sesh-head back home and you must be punished. Clean that toilet and don’t drink on the job.” He turns on the spot and leaves. The eight young British people with rib tattoos are left in the charge of their iron-fist boss, Lee. He tells them they can’t drink and they can’t fraternise with customers. They all laugh in his face.
