Celebrity Gogglebox viewers divided as they call out ‘insufferable’ stars
If there’s one thing British television does better than anyone else, it’s putting a bunch of famous faces on a sofa and letting the nation watch as they judge the rest of the world’s TV. And last night’s Celebrity Gogglebox (June 27) was a perfect storm: a parade of big personalities, sharp tongues, and—if Twitter is to be believed—a whole lot of opinions about who should and shouldn’t be allowed on our screens. But while Channel 4’s Friday night staple has always been about the joy of watching the rich and recognisable act like the rest of us, this week’s episode managed to split the nation like few others before it.
The line-up was classic Gogglebox gold: Nick Grimshaw and his ever-droll niece Liz, the banter-heavy duo of Paddy McGuinness and Vernon Kay, and the comedy royalty pairing of Jennifer Saunders and her daughter Beattie Edmonson. Throw in Shaun Ryder and Bez, and you’ve got a recipe for the kind of telly that’s as comforting as it is unpredictable. But the real lightning rod—perhaps inevitably—was the return of Noel Edmonds, courtesy of his new ITV show, Kiwi Adventure, a documentary chronicling his fresh start in New Zealand. For some, it was a welcome blast from the past; for others, it was a reminder of why they’d hoped the past would stay exactly where it was: behind us.
Social media, that ever-faithful barometer of public mood, was quick to erupt. “I despise Noel Edmonds and have done since the 70s on radio. Is it just me?” one X user demanded, unleashing a wave of agreement and a few dissenters. Another viewer was more succinct: “Noel Edmonds is insufferable.” The sentiment was echoed, amplified, and repeated ad nauseam. “I thought we’d got rid of Noel Edmonds ffs, I should have known better,” groaned a third. “Noel Edmonds new show looks boring,” a fourth piped up, while a fifth, never one to mince words, declared, “Noel Edmonds thinks he’s funnier than he is.” And, in a moment of pure, unfiltered internet venom, someone else spat, “Noel Edmonds……excuse me while I’m sick.”
It’s not just that Edmonds is divisive—he’s a lightning rod for a certain kind of British exasperation, the kind that’s been simmering since the days of Deal or No Deal and Noel’s House Party. To some, he’s a national treasure, a relic of a more innocent era; to others, he’s the embodiment of everything grating about celebrity culture: smug, self-satisfied, and, as more than one viewer put it, “deluded.” His Kiwi Adventure, which should have been a gentle, escapist romp through the wilds of New Zealand, instead became a battleground for the nation’s patience.
But it wasn’t just Noel who felt the heat. If anything, the stars sitting on the Gogglebox sofas took just as much flak as the people they were watching. Jennifer Saunders, one of the undisputed queens of British comedy, found herself on the receiving end of some of the night’s most withering criticism. “Jennifer Saunders is so far up her own [bleep] she can taste her tonsils,” one viewer wrote, with the kind of creative bile that only the internet can muster. “Jennifer Saunders is not nearly as funny as she thinks she is,” another insisted, while a third added, “I never find Jennifer Saunders funny and she has a lot of screen time.” For a woman who’s given the world Absolutely Fabulous, French and Saunders, and countless iconic sketches, it was a brutal reminder that even legends aren’t immune from the court of public opinion.
And then there was Paddy McGuinness, who, despite years of Saturday night TV dominance, seems to inspire as much irritation as affection. “Paddy no talent McGuinness is insufferable,” one viewer declared, as if the entire fate of British entertainment hinged on his ability to crack a joke. Vernon Kay, usually the affable sidekick, was spared much of the venom, but the mood was clear: this was a night for venting, not forgiving.
Yet, as with all things Gogglebox, the beauty is in the chaos. For every tweet calling for Saunders to be banished to the annals of TV history, there was another hailing her as a genius. “Jennifer Saunders is hilarious,” one fan countered, refusing to let the haters have the final word. And Shaun Ryder and Bez, those lovable rogues from Happy Mondays, seemed to unite the nation in affection. “No end to how much I love Shaun and Bez,” came one glowing review, a rare moment of consensus in a sea of snark.
This is the paradox at the heart of Celebrity Gogglebox: we tune in to watch celebrities judge TV, but we end up judging the celebrities right back. It’s a hall of mirrors, a feedback loop of opinion and outrage, where no one is safe and everyone is fair game. The stars are supposed to be just like us—lounging in their living rooms, eating crisps, rolling their eyes at the madness of modern television—but the reality is that their every word, every raised eyebrow, every ill-timed giggle is scrutinised, dissected, and, more often than not, torn to shreds by an audience that’s never more than a click away from full-blown mutiny.
Take the reaction to Noel Edmonds. Here is a man who, for decades, was a fixture of British life. He’s hosted everything from Swap Shop to The Late, Late Breakfast Show, survived the highs and lows of prime time, and, for better or worse, etched himself into the nation’s collective memory. His return, via Kiwi Adventure, should have been a moment of nostalgia, a gentle reminder of the days when television was a little less cynical, a little more innocent. Instead, it became a lightning rod for all the frustrations of a country tired of recycled celebrities and desperate for something—anything—new.
And yet, there’s something almost endearing about the way Celebrity Gogglebox brings out these strong reactions. It’s proof, if any were needed, that television still matters, that the people on our screens can still inspire passion, loyalty, and, yes, the occasional bout of righteous fury. In an age of streaming, on-demand everything, and infinite choice, there’s something strangely comforting about a show that can still unite the nation—if only in collective exasperation.
Of course, not everyone was in the mood to complain. For every naysayer, there was a fan ready to defend their favourite. “Jennifer Saunders is hilarious,” insisted one viewer, while another gushed, “No end to how much I love Shaun and Bez.” It’s a reminder that, for all the noise, there’s still a deep well of affection for the people who’ve kept us company through lockdowns, rainy Friday nights, and the endless churn of modern life.
And maybe that’s the real magic of Celebrity Gogglebox. It’s not about the shows being watched, or even the celebrities doing the watching. It’s about us—the viewers at home, the armchair critics, the Twitter warriors—coming together to share a moment, to argue, to laugh, to groan, and, every once in a while, to agree. It’s about the thrill of seeing the famous brought down to earth, the joy of discovering that even Jennifer Saunders has her off days, the satisfaction of knowing that, for better or worse, we’re all in this together.
As the credits rolled on last night’s episode, the debate was still raging. Would the producers listen to the critics and shake up the line-up? Would Noel Edmonds be invited back for another round of Kiwi misadventures? Would Jennifer Saunders finally win over her detractors, or would she remain, for some, the ultimate Marmite celebrity? Only time will tell.
But one thing is certain: Celebrity Gogglebox is here to stay, and as long as it is, the nation will keep watching, keep judging, and, above all, keep talking. Because in the end, that’s what television is all about—not just the shows, but the conversations they spark, the arguments they ignite, and the sense of community they create.
So, whether you’re Team Saunders or Team “Turn It Off,” whether you think Noel Edmonds is a national treasure or a national nuisance, one thing’s for sure: Friday nights wouldn’t be the same without a sofa full of celebrities, a pile of snacks, and the comforting knowledge that, somewhere out there, millions of us are watching, judging, and loving it just as much as we are. And isn’t that, in its own chaotic way, exactly what television is supposed to be?
