New Black is still old Black

'We're back, and this year we're bigger and better," enthused Cilla as Blind Date returned. It soon became clear that, despite the cosmetic makeover on the 18-series-old show, nothing much had changed underneath. The new Black is still the old Black.

This remains possibly TV's most hopeless dating game - hopeless, that is, at matching up compatible couples.

They return from a date in some exotic location and bicker on the sofa, throwing insults like guests throw confetti at a wedding, as Cilla plays referee. Some couples are so unsuitable it's a wonder murder most foul hasn't been committed on that settee.

Cilla's matchmaking methods are hardly scientific. The picker - which makes the activity sound more like something to do with the nose than finding true love -has to select after hearing the smart alec answers to three silly questions. As a method of selecting a partner it's as smart as using a concrete block as a life-raft.

The changes involve eliminating one of the three possible dates after two questions. Then having chosen from the remaining two, the picker can "date or ditch". If they don't like the look of what they've chosen, they can throw it away and take what's left.

Never let it be said that Blind Date is concerned with anything but looks. Andy settled for that third, still-unseen choice. The reasoning of this bouncer in a lap dancing club was simple: "I'm going to try every sweet in the shop". What a greedy boy.

Sally did better, winning a date with a member of the pop group Blue. She thought she was selecting from four "ordinary" blokes, and looked as though she couldn't believe it when she landed a date with Duncan. The Blue boys played along well with the jape, proving far less embarrassing than the usual hopefuls.

Anyone thinking that taking a photograph is simply a matter of pointing the camera at a subject and pressing a button would have been surprised by the circus surrounding David LaChapelle in the documentary A Portrait Of A Photographer.

As he's one of the ten best working photographers in the world today, you can rest assured that he won't cut off the top of your head if he takes a portrait. At least, not unless he means to.

This "Fellini of photography" is known for "eye-popping celebrity pictures that are colourful, sexy fun". Taking these snaps involves surrounding himself with a "family" of collaborators such as set designers, stylists and lighting technicians.

LaChapelle maintains he'd never take a photograph that would harm somebody's career. He "blows up the particular thing that makes them tick" and gets stars to go along with his ideas by thinking of things they'll be interested in doing. Not everything agrees with him. Madonna, we learnt, was very hands-on. She "edited ideas in and out" which, I suspect, is code for telling him, "I'm not doing that".

Faye Dunaway was affronted when asked if she wanted the make-up girl to provide her with fake tears for one picture. "I do my own tears," retorted the actress.

After watching LaChapelle at work, few would agree with his self-assessment that "I'm really just a button presser at the end of the day".