Cruel, acerbic, impassioned, gleeful, frequently outrageous and always hilarious, Charlie Brooker's Screen Burn collects the best of the much-loved Guardian Guide columns in one easy-to-read-on-the-toilet package. Sit back and roar as Brooker rips mercilessly into Simon Cowell, Big Brother, Trinny and Susannah, Casualty, Davina McCall, Michael Parkinson...and almost everything else on television. This book will make practically anyone laugh out loud.
Charlton "Charlie" Brooker is a British journalist, comic writer and broadcaster. His style of humour is savage and profane, with surreal elements and a consistent satirical pessimism.
He presents TV shows Screenwipe, Gameswipe and Newswipe, wrote a review column for The Guardian newspaper, and is one of four creative directors of comedy production company Zeppotron.
His five-part horror drama Dead Set for E4 earned him a nomination for a BAFTA and he is also the host of the Channel 4 comedy panel show You Have Been Watching. Brooker won Columnist of the Year at the 2009 British Press Awards for his column, and the Best Newcomer at the British Comedy Awards 2009.
This book consists of Charlie Brooker's "Screen Burn" columns from 2000-2004, discussing what was annoying him (or, more rarely, making him happy) in his television viewing. It's a brilliant look at his ability to create a comprehensive narrative using a few hundred words at a time.
To be honest, if you weren't living in the UK and watching television here during the years that this book spans, some of this will not be understandable. I know that there were several references to programs long gone and personalities I've never heard of that went entirely over my head. Even so, the writing itself was a joy to behold. Charlie gets mad, and when he's mad, he's at his best. However, the things that make him so angry are the things that *should* upset most people. He gets annoyed when shows are presented for the sole purpose of humiliating their participants. He's angered by witless screenwriting meant for the lowest common denominator. It's the way he expresses this anger that makes him so entertaining.
He takes as many potshots at himself as he does at everyone else, and who can argue with him having a dream evening of television wherein Jeremy Paxman is actually allowed to hit people?
By the by, don't skip the index - he's even managed to make that hilarious.
This isn't as good as Dawn of the Dumb, simply because it fulfills its original purpose: a regular 'forthcoming TV' column. As the entire TV schedule is not wall-to-wall crap (so I'm told), Brooker actually likes a lot of it, and is often too damn nice. It results in a good, balanced piece of journalism, sure, but he's at his funniest precisely when he's being unbalanced and levelling his typographical Uzi at his well-deserving victim. I much prefer this out-and-out curmudgeon he becomes later.
Witty, acerbic, occasionally full of joy. These are articles written for the Guardian way back when.
While I did not always recall the programmes he referred to I always enjoyed what he wrote. There was real moments of hilarity in here. His turn of phrase and use of language is huge fun.
The great thing about articles is that you are never that far away from the next one so if one is not to your taste you do not have to worry.
While I found myself chuckling or even laughing out loud at many of Mr. Brooker’s observations about British telly, I was hampered more often than not by my complete and utter ignorance of many of the people, terms and shows to which he alluded.
Also, an entire book composed of nothing but reviews gets a trifle wearying to read. A person who prefers novels or any kind of story with a linear plotline is repeatedly thrown off course by page after page of critique. Each one is a separate encapsulation of a larger story and therefore the reader must shift gears mentally with each new review. I found myself putting the book aside every now and then just to rest my beleaguered mind. It’s not as if the story would suffer for my discarding it since there was no plotline or character development to keep track of from one page to the next. Thus, this book took a lot longer to read than many books with more pages.
Constant carping can get tiresome; no one likes a perpetual whiner. However, Mr. Brooker does put in an occasional good word for a truly excellent show or even a show that’s not so great but just has him watching over and over again in spite of his better judgment. He simply knows that writing only about good shows would have been boring, both for himself and his readers.
If you are interested in knowing what the English are watching across the pond, you can do worse than Mr. Brooker. Just don’t be put off by his scatological humor or continual references to pine cones.
Although I don't read the Guardian (where these articles originally appeared) and I've not seen the majority of the shows reviewed, I still found this book extremely funny. I think I'm in love with Charlie Brooker due to his misanthropy and caustic wit!! His obsession with spoons and pine cones in orifaces is a bit of a concern though.
A penetrating glance at Britain's television listings & how those were populated during the early 21st century; Charlie Brooker sharply surveys the shortcomings. Punchlines are crafted cunningly & without mercy, while he's left wanting by TV personalities & broadcasters alike. Enjoyment is conceded (rarely) to a handful of shows - although truth comes surplus to a good story!
Some of the Guide reviews are introduced & concluded using signposts, sharing some obscure reference or metaphor of Charlie's choosing - this makes for an engaging format. 'Screen Burn' is not rid of petty grievances; some shoot wide of the mark, yet points are scored with damning wit throughout the book far more often. Brooker's conveyed loss assumes his reader's gain & thus he crusades to assert both.. your amusement follows!
I found this book and its counterpart, Dawn Of The Dumb, in a book swap. I was eager to read because of my respect for Brooker's creative endeavours in such titles as Nathan Barley and Black Mirror.
This book is filled with Brooker's top-notch wit of course, with many passages being laugh-out-loud funny. But there comes a point, maybe one third through, when all that acerbic wittering starts to feel like angry poison, and just by reading it I begin to feel as if I am giving the thumbs-up to all this bullying, however annoying the target may be.
Interestingly, Brooker eventually hung his hat from the guardian Screen Burn column partially for this very reason. All the finger poking just got too much; it stopped being funny.
For now, though, I can still appreciate Brooker's sheer writing talent and will probably, against any claimed ethical standpoint here, go on to read the next in the series.
It’s a bit odd reading a book of tv reviews from early 2000s. Some shows faded immediately, some are vague memories & some become household names, but this is before they were The Brand(c). Brooker is an interesting & capable writer, and while obviously there’s some element of persona (he’s married to a former Blue Peter presenter, so can’t be that bad), some of the reviews are quite personal (of actor’s appearances) and quite violently aggressive. Would they be written the same now? Possibly by Brooker, I suspect they were near the bone back then. One amusing part is where he throws in the plot for the future Black Mirror pig episode, just as an aside. Worth reading in 2024? Yes, but in a different social history way from at the time.
I've owned this book for 9 years and it's taken me this long to finish it. It's a draining read. Page after page of elaborate put downs and moaning about shite TV does not make for a good long-form read. I used to really like Brooker's Guardian column and it absolutely works far better for a quick lunch time giggle about some rubbish telly, but not a near 400 page joy killer of a tome. I should have shelved this instead of forced myself to finish it cover-to-cover. Not a healthy way to read.
i prefer his non-TV writing, and his taste for the particularly trashy and ephemeral means this hasn't dated terribly well. it does have have some personal interest in that it coincides with about the last time i watched the telly on a regular basis.
Brooker gave me one of the rare pleasures I have reading, the double laugh. A line he wrote cracked me up so much that the moment I stopped to catch my breath, I thought about it again and started laughing once more.
As you'd expect, Charlie Brooker rips into reality TV with all the enthusiasm a grumpy misanthropist can muster. Which is actually quite a lot. Here is about four years of his Guardian columns explaining why TV is terrible.
I’ve finished this book! exclaims Goodreads. More like: the book finished me. The first couple of snippets are snarkily witty, but as the book is more, so much more of the same, I gave up at about 11%. I’d rather watch reruns of old Inbetweeners episodes.
A collection of articles and blog posts from the early 2000s. Brookers misanthropic personality shines though and some precursors to Black Mirror can be found in his manic fever-dream hypotheticals that he conjures up in a distinctly Joycean style.
Realizing, too late, that the author was British, I became gradually aware of not getting most, if not all, of the humor. I am sure the average U.K. citizen would find this book hilarious.
When I think of Charlie Brooker the first word to cross my mind is caustic. His words come like vinegar to a wound, his derision of all things (without prejudice) making both a difficult read and one of the most entertaining.
Screen Burn isn't something I would recommend reading in one go. The page and a half - two page televisual review segments are hilarious (and, if you were growing up around the time these columns were first published, nostalgic) but after reading several pages in one sitting it becomes a little samey. However this is easily avoided by dipping in and out, which the layout of the book makes it easy to do.
This isn't to say Brooker's writing is uninteresting, not in the least. His grasp of the English language, I suspect, far outstrips that of much of the population (myself included), and his 'voice' is always present and yet constantly fresh.
I would recommend this most for coming back from a hard day at work, flicking on the TV, only to see the dirge which lays before you. Needing a distraction from the fact you're probably paying for said dirge with the money you earned during your hard day at work, your only option is to turn to Screen Burn. Laugh out loud hilarious, thoughtful and sharply insightful - a definite must read.
Although Screen Burn did contain a decent number of laugh-out-loud moments, the sheer volume of it - spanning five years of Brooker's Guardian columns - meant that the end product was sadly mediocre. By and large, his columns are all pretty much the same. TV spews out a ludicrous show, and Brooker angrily criticises it at length, employing a staggering range of metaphors and similies that eventually become meaningless through sheer number. Rinse, wash, repeat. These are not bad columns in and of themselves, but crowded together here, they all blend into one hazy, forgettable rant. Yes, there's a lot of crap on TV. Yes, we should all have better things to do than submit to it. But I spent quite a lot of Screen Burn musing on the fact that I really had better things to do than read it, which is pretty damning. I'd recommend this as a bathroom book more than anything - something to dip into for a few minutes, then put down for a few days, so the overall effect is more diluted and enjoyable as a result. Because it definitely is funny in places... it just suffers from the transition to book format.
This book, as well as the second volume (Dawn of the Dumb) collects Charlie Brooker's weekly columns which first appeared in The Saturday Guardian's entertainment supplement, The Guide. Unlike most television critics, Brooker tends to be scathing and is dismissive of most of the television programmes he reviews, but because television is almost always disappointing, falling so far short its potential, it isn't Broker's approach that should be surprising, it should be the fawning arse-lick simpering of the rest of them. [return][return]Brooker tends to be quite funny as well, sometimes in a laugh-out-loud kind of way. I hardly watch broadcast television, so I am (happily) unfamiliar with some of the dross Brooker dissects, but even someone who isn't at all familiar with the medium will enjoy Brooker's justifiable rage. [return][return]Apparently, Brooker has also managed to wangle a television programme out of this, so he now fulminates on screen; that might just be a tad ironic. As noted in another review, these collections are great for the bog which is also ironic, because that's where most television belongs.
Though Charlie Brooker writes well, with a high level of insight and a sometimes delightful use of creative expletives and imagery, alas this didn't quite work as a completely enjoyable read because of two things.
Primarily, the format of the book is that it's a collection of columns written by Brooker for The Guardian in the early 2000's. As entertaining as each piece can be, it still feels very much like someone has collected together a load of (now a lot less relevant) rants about something which was on TV a decade or more ago. This doesn't show off the material in it's best light.
Secondly, it's only TV. Whatever the breadth of programming and the range of ways he can find to comment on it, it just boils down to someone repeatedly moaning about the crap that's on TV.. for over three hundred and fifty pages. You wonder why he didn't just turn it off.
I'm sure a better structured book by Charlie Brooker, covering a greater range of stuff which angers him, would be worth reading - but this was too constrained by format and subject to be thoroughly enjoyable.
My goodness. Rather like his TV shows - in fact more so, because he can stretch his bile out to palatable endurability in 30 mins, rather than the foam-flecked bullets of hatred this columns have condensed to - the inner mumblings of Charlie Brooker should definitely be taken in small doses. It's taken me far longer to read this collection of Guardian (and pre-Guardian) TV reviews/comments. This is principally due to the fact that reading more than, say, four in a row and you feel the red mist starting to descend and the need to reach out and hurt someone or something in the name of bettering mankind. Five in a row, and you do start to feel like Brooker's oft-referenced cinematic avatar, Travis Bickle (i.e. the de Niro character in Taxi Driver). He is never less than readable, although perhaps one feels he sacrifices genuine fondness or affection for a show to the gods of wrathful prose-styling than his fans adore him for.
As this is a collection of Brooker's Guardian articles over the space of almost 3yrs, a period around 10yrs ago at my time of reading, some of it hasn't aged particularly well.
The programmes reviewed here are extremely varied, but still most often from the low-brow end of the TV spectrum. This is understandable, as it gives Brooker a great opportunity for comedy, and some of this book is very very funny indeed. I laughed at some parts more than I've laughed at just about any book before. However, such moments are fairly few and far between, drowning under the weight of many long rants about housemates from Big Brother you never watched a decade ago, tatty game shows nobody remembers or slightly dubious views on 'documentaries' from C4 and Five that are rather too dire to waste a moment thinking about.
Some good 5/5 bits nestled amid lots of humdrum 3/5, I'd give this about 3.25 stars out of 5.
Here's the thing, I was but an insignificant child during the period that this book covers so there's lots in it that I, now an insignificant adult, don't remember or even know about the people or the show's mentioned. But I still enjoyed it.
See, I've been in a bit of a book slump. The past, what, three weeks I've picked up books and read them and I've either just not been in the mood to read it quite yet or it was so unspeakably boring that I had to snort chilli powder to wake myself up again. I realised the problem of course when Charlie Brooker blessed our screens one Thursday evening with his Anti Viral Wipe - I was trying to read *proper* stuff. You know. Intellectual stuff. Serious stuff. Novels with opinions that you're supposed hold in high regard. What I wanted, what I needed was this. Pages and pages of my favourite bitter git ranting about nonsense TV shows and the idiots that watch them. I needed a laugh. It is lockdown after all.
This is Brooker's first collection of columns and unlike the others it's just about TV-shows, so what I said about The Hell of it All is even more true here: while he is very good at making you hate a show you've never watched he's even more obsessed with certain personalities, especially from reality-TV (the book covers the years from 2000-2004, i.e. the beginning of the reality-wave...it's rather hillarious when he comments on the original US version of Pop Idol and says 'Please, British TV-producers, don't even think about making a British version' and then half a year later 'You didn't listen...'), and if you don't know them this is somewhat dull.
Same review as what I wrote for Brooker's Dawn of the Dumb book. They are very similar, the only difference is that this one is more TV oriented...
Charlie Brooker is great for rage reading. If you've ever been angry at something in your daily life at any point in the last 10 years, chances are that Brooker has covered it. Transport, banks, reality TV... he rages on all of these and more with his idiosyncratic humour that will be familiar to anyone who is a Chris Morris fan or seen Brooker's other work on TV Go Home or Nathan Barley.
Can get a little repetitive after a few entries so best to break up your reading in short bursts. These were written as weekly newspaper articles after all.
Screen Burn, the first collection of Charlie Brooker's weekly columns mercilessly mocking the trashiest of television shows is as hilarious as anything else he's done, albeit, towards the end a little repetitive. Written between 2000-2004, it covers the first broadcasts of the type of faux-reality television that is now ubiquitous. Brooker's curmudgeonly take on the dreck that fills up the television schedules is characteristically and consistently funny, even when the reader is not entirely familiar with the British shows & personalities discussed.
Ah, there's nothing like a good spittle-fuelled rant and Charlie Brooker is the master of hurling invective at dull-witted TV programmes and the people who dream up, produce and appear in them. Screen Burn may pick easy targets like Simon Cowell, Trinny and Susannah and Davina McCall but that's not to say they don't deserve it. And it almost makes you nostalgic for the days when you could find a channel showing a 24-hour feed from the Big Brother house (with all the interesting bits covered up by fake birdsong, naturally...)