There were so many things wrong with Phillip Schofield’s TV comeback. The timing. The premise. The assumption that people would be tuning in for any reason other than idle curiosity.
And a barrage of negative press has immediately followed the first episode of his new Channel 5 show Cast Away, which aired last night. The Standard gave his first episode two stars; The Guardian called him “an incredibly bitter man” and The Times branded the whole thing “tedious.”
And who’s surprised? Schofield has been absent from our screens ever since he left ITV’s This Morning (in the special, he deadpans that he was fired) following an “unwise, but not illegal” affair with a younger male colleague on the set.
A media feeding frenzy followed the story. His face was splashed across front pages for weeks, in relation to the affair, the alleged feud between himself and This Morning co-host Holly Willoughby, the toxic allegations of bullying at the show.
But Schofield himself never talked about them. Never even appeared on television. Until now: this three-part documentary series in which he is stranded on a desert island for 10 days with nothing but some expensive camera equipment.
The public celebrity comeback has form. He joins an ever-expanding list of celebrities who seem to think that the way to public redemption is through relaunching their image live on national television. Matt Hancock did it with I’m A Celebrity. More recently, Ellen DeGeneres sought to reclaim her reputation from allegations of bullying via a Netflix standup special.
How successful either of these previous attempts were is hotly debated. Hancock went in hated and came out hated, but arguably slightly more respected for gamely doing every single challenge the public voted him to. DeGeneres, meanwhile, was lambasted for her show, which Time called “less vulnerable and more self-serving.”
Though it’s early doors yet – only one out of three episodes have aired – this looks set to offer more of the same. Cast Away gives us three undiluted hours in Schofield’s company, and the end result feels rather like being submerged in a dirty pool.
One of the biggest issues, perhaps, is that it was simply too soon for something like this to come out. Stories about Schofield’s affair emerged in May last year, after which he was unceremoniously dropped from the show: that’s not a long time for reports of his misbehaviour to fade from the public consciousness.
The public aren’t exactly forgiving when it comes to scandals like this, even if Schofield’s point – that the punishment more than outweighed the crime – is a fair one. But Schofield himself certainly doesn’t help matters. He gives the public everything: the chance to see him weeping, opening up about his personal life; he even obligingly eats winkles and stabs crabs to death on screen like some knock-off version of I’m A Celebrity.
This is public self-flagellation writ large, and yet the show also seeks to have its cake and eat it by portraying him as a misunderstood, tragic hero: somebody who was unfairly treated by the media and by his friends for something he thinks shouldn’t have been that big a deal.
There’s a distinct lack of remorse in any of his asides to camera – instead, a sense of resentment bubbles through. One story he tells involves a security guard giving him a hug after he left This Morning, telling him, “They’re all shits, mate.” Later episodes promise bombshells about the show itself and his relationship with Willoughby, as well as chances to avoid claiming responsibility for the toxic culture at This Morning. A preview clip has already surfaced in which he blames the “three shits of showbiz” for their “utter betrayal” of him during his tenure on the show.
Clearly, Schofield wants a redemption arc. Most of Cast Away isn’t taken up with the day-to-day business of survival; instead, it indulges in cut-away interviews with his family, explaining what a great father he is, or in Schofield himself hinting at the mental health toll that the scandal has taken on him.
The problem is, the public aren’t willing to listen. Who would? This is just the latest attempt from an ailing celebrity to boost their public image. The gloss has worn off; by agreeing to this ludicrous premise, Schofield himself has been reduced to little more than an object of curiosity. And once the show is over and he disappears from our screens once more, few will give it much thought.
Channel 5 will no doubt be delighted at the furore. After all, it’ll bring in the views. For Schofield, it’s very unlikely to bring that redemption arc he so clearly craves.
