TV review

My Breasts Are Too Big (C4)

Nip/Tuck (h4)

YOU may have thought you were dreaming if you turned onto BBC1 last night to see giant maggots and fleas competing in the high jump and caterpillars taking on fish at shooting, but it was all true.

Some ingenious mind came up with the idea of this programme to yet again showcase the brilliance of the BBC's wildlife department, this time with a nifty Olympic Games tie-in.

The premise of the show is 'what would happen if the animal kingdom took part in some of the most popular Olympic disciplines?'.

To make it fair, all the animals have been scaled to human size using impressive computer graphics and their abilities have been scaled-up in ratio to their new size.

An hilarious commentary by John Motson made this one of the most bizarre viewing experiences of the year - enjoyable but very weird.

There was more sober viewing on C4. Despite the title, My Breasts Are Too Big wasn't a blue movie but a serious look at the trials of having a really large chest.

The women in this documentary must tear their hair out when they see the likes of Jordan pumped up like Barbie dolls. Rather than fighting to increase their assets these girls are begging and borrowing to lose a bit up front.

They bravely let the cameras follow them into changing rooms in specialist lingerie shops (where bras go up to double J) and into the doctor's surgery as they spoke about backache, humiliating stares and an inability to sleep.

When they were given the go-ahead for surgery they then had to tell their friends and loved ones. One boyfriend was less than supportive, claiming he didn't notice how large his girl's breasts were until they were 'unleashed' and the poor girl then had to attend a Goodbye Boobs party held by her male workmates.

With that reaction is it any wonder she was heading for the operating table?

At least the women featured could be thankful they were not being operated on by the Nip/Tuck team. This dark US comedy wowed audiences on both sides of the Atlantic when it was aired on cable.

Thankfully C4 bought the drama so even more people can revel in the sick humour and watch through their fingers as some very beautiful surgeons perform some drastic operations on their very disturbed clientele.

l Steve Pratt is away

Dial M For Murder, Darlington Civic Theatre

RETURNING to the era of trenchcoats and trilbies seems hardly out of place when it's raining stair-rods outside and we have to make-believe that a retired top British tennis star (OK that is difficult) has decided to murder his wife. Steven Pinder, familiar to all as maddish Max in Brookside, is on home turf as evil Tony Wendice who is determined to get his hands on his wife's £29,000 inheritance - remember it is 1954.

Joy Brook as wife Sheila Wendice and Richard Grieve as her lover Max Halliday act out a nervous and stilted plot-setter before they settle into character and Richard Walsh, as Captain Lesgate, is blackmailed by Tony into trying to kill Sheila. How to stop some members of the audience laughing nervously as half-strangled Sheila stabs Lesgate to death with scissors is something only Michael Howard's zero tolerance policy is likely to solve. As it is, Frederick Knott's famous play tends to offer wry smiles in the wrong places with younger observers amused by references to pressing the button A on a public phone, discussions about used £1 notes and the police being suspicious when Tony splashes out £60 on a wine bill.

Middle Ground Theatre Company director Michael Lunney appears on stage himself as Brummie-accented Inspector Hubbard who decides to try and save Sheila from the gallows at the 11th hour. He's slightly hampered by film shots of the street outside which tend to lower rather than raise the dramatic effect and sprightly jazz guitar musical links which are at odds with the sophisticated scenes inside a Maida Vale apartment. Thankfully, the excellent acting avoids the plot becoming Dial M For Moribund, but it's a play eclipsed by DNA dynamics elsewhere.

Viv Hardwick

l Runs until Saturday. Box Office: (01325) 486555

Vodou Nation, Newcastle Theatre Royal

ON what was possibly the wettest night of the year, the Theatre Royal audience was treated to a taste of the Caribbean in Brett Bailey's stunning production.

Led by Vodou-rock band RAM, the music was a marvellous mix of African and Caribbean influences, with throbbing drums and haunting harmonies.

The story is that of the island of Haiti with its history of slavery, misrule and foreign interference, but it would have been difficult to follow without the help of the programme notes.

The performers, recruited in Haiti, are led by a young lady named LUNISE, always referred to in upper-case. With a beautiful, rich-toned singing voice and considerable dancing skills, combined with luscious curves in a skin-tight costume, she represented the spirit of the island and completely enslaved a white-haired gentleman in the front row; altogether too much excitement.

RAM, also from Haiti, provides authentic-sounding backing for the enthusiastic and compelling dancing. The band's lead singer, also called RAM, sings in English with a light American accent and composed all the music as well as the lyrics.

I confess I was ignorant of Haiti's tragic history until now, and Brett Bailey's vibrant production ends on a touchingly optimistic note which may prove to be premature. Bailey has set out to achieve a serious change of heart and action towards Haiti from the rest of the world, and if the reception given to his performers last night is anything to go by, he's made a fine start.

Sue Heath

* Runs until Saturday. Box Office: 0870 905 5060