On TV

HERE was a nice Christmas present for parents - a catalogue of teenage misdemeanors to make your blood freeze. The antics - some silly, some dangerous, all reprehensible - were a far more effective advertisement for birth control than any Durex ad.

Particularly distressing was the lack of remorse shown by many offenders. You could also accuse the programme-makers of putting ideas in young heads by showing how to take drugs, set yourself on fire, steal a bus and run away from home.

Bus company boss Terry was reduced to tears of anger and frustration while recalling how two teenagers stole a bus. Eventually, the pair jumped off and left the vehicle careering driver-less down a hill. It crashed into the side of a house. Luckily, no-one was killed.

Fifteen-year-old Laura, who was put on probation for her role in the theft, admitted: "It were good at the time. Now I picture what I've done, I wouldn't do again".

There were no apologies from the Live Now, Die Later crew, clearly modelled on the mad pranksters doing extreme stunts in TV's Jackass series. Anyone, the narrator helpfully pointed out, can get a camcorder, film themselves doing potentially harmful things and create a website.

I could have done without the scene in which a teenager tried to pull a fish hook from his ear by attaching it to a length of string, tying it to a gate and slamming it shut. How nice of the makers to show it again in agonising slow motion.

Even an incident in which a leap over a bonfire went horrendously wrong had failed to dampen their high spirits. Young Andrew rather stupidly agreed to let his mother watch a video of him setting his hair on fire. She got tearful, he looked embarrassed.

The home video of 16-year-old Sarah's house party was what you expected from a teenage rave-up - drinking, vomiting, dancing, more drinking, more vomiting and a young man trying on a bra (there's always one isn't there?). One reveller crashed out in her mother's bed. Fortunately mum was out at the time.

The Turner family - mum Donna and arguing daughters Kay and Amber - sought help with "teen tamer" Sarah Newton. The family communicated through shouting rather than talking. "But how did they get that way?" wondered Sarah.

We got an inkling through Donna's reaction when a man twice her age gave 13-year-old Amber his telephone number. Her mother phoned him up and shouted "W*nker" down the line.

The documentary would have us believe that a few sessions with the counsellor turned them into one big happy, non-shouting family. I'm not so sure peace and tranquillity will last.

Jamie Gleave, 14, left home to travel round Europe. He displayed a certain amount of cunning by getting to Paris, only to run out of money and confidence in the French capital. He handed himself in and asked to be taken home.

More worrying was Paul Johnson, a 15-year-old who looked like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. He was named and shamed as a persistent offender for assault, theft, drinking and drug-taking. Astonishingly, his mother condoned his smoking cannabis because "it quietens him down". So would locking him in a cell and throwing away the key, although I doubt the "teen tamer" would agree with me.

Northern Sinfonia and Chorus, The Sage Gateshead

HALL One of the Sage Gateshead was given its first full baptism with a glorious account of Haydn's oratorio, The Creation, from the Northern Sinfonia and Chorus.

It was an appropriate choice of score. The performance not only showcased the acoustic excellence of the hall in all its grandeur, but reaffirmed what everybody already knew, that the region's premier orchestra ranks as truly world class.

There was a hushed sense of occasion as the first muted strings introduced the work, which unfolded with perfect phrasing under the deft baton of musical director Thomas Zehetmair. The strings were lush, the woodwinds rich, and double basses warmly resonated throughout, enfolding the listener in sound. And when the Chorus unleashed the line "Let there be Light" it was like a wave breaking, shaking the audience to the core; perhaps more so than when first it was first heard in 1798. Bass Michael George conveyed the full gravitas of his part, while tenor Thomas Walker's voice soared. Soprano Geraldine McGreevy, who stepped in at short notice to replace an indisposed Rosemary Joshua, rose to the occasion with aplomb. Singing as a trio they ascended to heavenly heights.

The balance between the choir and orchestra was perfect throughout, with the work driven to an astonishing crescendo. It brought the audience to their feet. The Sinfonia's move into its new home has been likened to putting on a pair of new shoes. To take the analogy further it is a snug fit.

A fitting way to mark an historic occasion.

* The programme will be repeated at 7.30pm tonight.

Box office: 0870 703 4555.

Gavin Engelbrecht