Roald Dahl’s universe may not be a golden ticket for fans of the writer | Rebecca nicholson

IIt’s been a lucrative week for Roald Dahl’s estate and a costly one for Netflix, which bought the Roald Dahl Story Company for £ 500million and although neither organization confirms the exact amount involved, I’m sure the frobscottle caps were popped. In a statement, the streaming service said its planned adaptation of Mathilde the musical and his next animated Charlie and the chocolate factory The series had “opened our eyes to a much more ambitious endeavor – the creation of a unique universe through animated and live action films and television, publishing, games, immersive experiences, live theater, consumer products and more “.

Phew. it will be Frozen it all starts all over again, doesn’t it? I don’t have children, but I have nephews and nieces and I have learned through them that there is nothing that you cannot beautify with Anna and Elsa. A fork? Frozen. Sneakers with shimmering laces? Frozen. There are Frozen pots, Hula Hoops, bed frames, tents. There are more snowflakes on children’s toys than there are people typing the word angrily on Twitter. It’s surely only a matter of time before we get some Miss Trunchbull branded javelins, Mr Twit beard combs or a Grandpa Joe themed bedspread.

Most children who grew up on a dizzying and horrific Dahl diet will have a lingering fantasy that the chocolate factory could one day be a possibility, although the pandemic may have had a lasting impact on the wallpaper’s desirability. you can lick it. Yes, Willy Wonka’s machines maimed children, but it was worth it, to the sound of this Fudgemallow Whipple-Scrumptious delight. If the Dahl universe gets the full Harry Potter treatment, then beware of false hopes: I made Butterbeer’s real attempt, so you don’t have to. I’d rather face the Dementors than drink it again.

Netflix has been asked to acknowledge Dahl’s well-documented anti-Semitism, for which his descendants apologized last year, with the Council of British Jews’ MPs calling for a documentary to be made on his fanaticism, in order to avoid paint him “as a sort of paragon of goodness and virtue”.

Even so, the Dahl brand already exists. Mathilde gave her name to the bubble bath. You can buy disappointing Wonka chocolate with popping candy for years. I remember a gentle boat ride to Alton Towers that took away all the nastiness from the chocolate factory. It’s a particular form of possessive nostalgia, I think, that makes Roald Dahl’s idea of ​​an “immersive experience” instinctively off-putting, but the hope lies in the prose. His books are about powerful and autonomous children and inept, cruel or useless adults or sometimes adults who are all three. They talk about farts – and death and neglect – and they talk about magic, strength and freedom. It’s a heady blend to balance. Hopefully these immersive experiences can handle it.

Competition walk? It’s a slippery slope

I started watching a new show on BBC2 last week called To take a walk. I like the comedy of Rhod Gilbert, which tells. I love hiking, even if it’s just walking and puffing up your chest and trying to be heard, and I love TV so I settled in for indirect views and maybe some fleece inspiration for the cold months to come.

There are jokes in the storytelling and beautiful scenery, but most of all, To take a walk is a competition. Yes of course. We already have Rating and Walks with my dog, and all of Channel 5’s Friday night schedule to watch people walk through beautiful scenery, so it was inevitable that there would be a competitive element to it. This is one of the many shows borrowed from the school of Come dine with me, pitting people against each other, then ranking their efforts out of 10. Here the winner, along with a perfect BBC miser, receives a golden stick and a voucher for walking equipment.

Should every activity become a competition? The rankings can’t be bothered – “Nice views, but she served cheese at lunch?” “And” I would have [had] a little less mud ”are not quite at Four in a bed cut-throat level for now – and the program is mostly about looking at the hills. Surely, I thought, walking is the last place this format can go. And then I watched a trailer for A perfect location, in which avid campers compete to find Britain’s best campsite, coming to Channel 4 this week.

Catch you like Derry Girls

That’s all, then, for Derry Girls, which is officially coming to an end. Lisa McGee, its creator and screenwriter, has announced that the upcoming third comedy series will be the last. The hilarious show is about to begin filming, after a two-year delay caused by Covid. “What a ride!” McGee wrote on Twitter, confirming the news, although she did tease that the gang might “come back in another form someday,” which comes in handy for those of us who wish to put our vaguely awkward trust in with the phrase. “Catch yourself” to use more.

It seems like an odd time for this to end, having reached the coveted level of “Special Edition with Guest Celebrities on Comic Relief,” but I firmly believe that a three-series limit should be placed on almost every show. British and Irish productions have a sense of brevity that their transatlantic cousins ​​sometimes lack, in part because they are not often given the opportunity to improve on middle first seasons. He sorts the wheat for laughter, if you will. (I’m sorry.) Three sets and more is a classy move and should be enough to keep the Derry Girls living heritage.