Gordon Behind Bars - TV review


Watch out everyone. Gordon Ramsay is out of his comfort zone.
Watch out everyone. Gordon Ramsay is out of his comfort zone.
No, he hasn't been faced with a swear box or stripped of his self-tanning kit. This time he's really feeling the pressure.
Because after years of shouting at celebrities and bullying timid restaurateurs, he's now faced with a captive audience who aren't afraid to have a go back.
At the self-styled 'Bad Boy's Bakery' each of his latest crop of trainee chefs are housed at HMS Brixton – and many are doing time at Her Majesty's Pleasure for violent offences.
Oh, and they're all wielding rather large knives.
So the decision by Channel 4 to send in Britain's angriest, most patronising and downright dislikeable celebrity chef in to whip them into shape seems a sensible one, right?
Couldn't they have just sent in Jamie instead? Or perhaps Delia? Actually on second thoughts, that might not be wise. "Let's be 'avin you" doesn't translate quite so well behind bars.
So with 88,000 people filling the UK's prisons, at an average cost of £38,000 each, the fiery Scottish chef is determined to relaunch his TV career/create a sustainable commercial business (delete as appropriate) and have the prisoners give something back.
On some of the evidence, it could be a tough ask. "What's this white stuff? Is it milk?" asks Hassan, one of the supposed chefs, as squeezes a dip into individual pots.
You don't need a Michelin star to know that doesn't sound right..
And with this same convict admitting that the first time he tried to cook beans on toast it ended with a visit from the fire brigade, Ramsay does seem to have a tough job on his hands.
Some members of the public seem equally unimpressed with the scheme as Gordon tries to flog his prison lunches on the streets. "If I knew a rapist had made my sandwich, I don't think I'd eat it" says one, while another munches nervously, just pleased that his scotch egg hasn't been stuffed with razor blades.
Gordon starts to lose it as well at times, flipping at an over-cleanly con who dares to comments when the chef pours excess juice all over his sparkling worktop. "I've been holding back" says Ramsay. It's a good job some of his trainees have too.
It's not all bad news though. Some of the public feedback is a little more positive – "good to see they're doing something useful" says one man when offered a slice of cake and the men that stick out the training seem to be gaining something from the experience.
What's more, the food being produced in the prison seems to be getting the universal thumbs-up from the punters.
So, in true TV style, what looks to be another kitchen nightmare is turned around with the help of an old idea from Ramsay's old show of the same name.
Yes, it's time to put his new team to the test and have them prepare a three-course dinner for 50 important guests in the prison restaurant. Sound familiar anyone?
Although some reports may have you believe otherwise, the usual jail menu is replaced by scallops and beef Wellington – and they have to finish off the dishes in front of their diners just to make it even more daunting.
Struggling chefs are paired up with more skilled hands in order to keep the quality up and it seems to do the trick, with convicted drug dealer Hassan teaming up with reformed heroin addict Davy to form an odd, but successful team.
And, in one of the rare moments that the programme focuses on an inmate's story rather than Gordon's, it seems as though the experience has had an effect on the prisoner.
"I'm never selling class A drugs again" he says. Well, it's a start I suppose.