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Wouldn't Casablanca be better as a ten-episode season where nothing happens? asks Netflix

NETFLIX is inviting viewers to imagine their favourite Warner Bros properties turned into prestige TV shows with moody lighting and no plot development. 

Following the streamer’s purchase of the Hollywood studio for $83 billion, audiences have been ordered to choose their favourite epic to be made into a ten-hour bingeable show with utterly glacial pacing.

CEO Ted Sarandos said: “You liked Chariots of Fire? You’ll like it even more when it lasts all day and they haven’t even left Cambridge yet.

“We’ll be bringing the values which have made Netflix a thriving business, if you ignore all the debt, to the Warner Bros library. Expect exhaustively explored backstories, characters who take up time but go nowhere, all impossible to make out through gloom.

“Think Deliverance is a classic? It’s even better as two seasons of high-concept adventure that ends before the famous bit because audiences lost interest. 2001: A Space Odyssey a favourite? Yes, but have you seen it animated?

“Casablanca itself is already in production. By the end of season one, ten hours of thrilling character development, Rick buys a cafe. At the end of season six Ilsa stays with him because our algorithm says that’s what audiences would prefer. You’ll love it.”

He added: “Oh, and all this will be happening on a screen the size of a human fingernail, on the bus, without headphones.”

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Gen Z: are they discarding valuable societal prejudices against ginger people?

THE win of Angry Ginge on I’m A Celebrity raises a disturbing question. Are Gen Z no longer committing to long-held prejudice about the gingers? 

Society has barely recovered from the damage done by woke millennials determined that sexism, racism and anti-trans bigotry were bad things, but at least they knew never to violate the ultimate taboo.

It’s one so ingrained it rarely needs mentioning. Politeness forbids it. There are no laws against them because they’re not needed; the reaction is instinctive.

But today we must contemplate the very real risk that by not speaking against the ginger menace, we have allowed our children to believe it is acceptable. That gingers are people like any other and deserving of kindness.

How else can this victory be explained? He wears his shame in his very name, for God’s sake. ‘Angry Ginge’. Of course he’s angry. Angry at being made that way. Angry that even dye cannot hide it. Angry at a world that hates and fears him. And for this he wins votes?

What next? Political office? After all, Nigel Farage only came third in the jungle, and he is certain to become our next prime minister. Could Angry Ginge follow suit?

An apocalypse would follow. 13,000 years of anti-ginger prejudice would be violently avenged, the streets red with normals’ blood. You think they’d forget and forgive? You don’t know the fire of hatred that burns behind their watery eyes.

Democracy would be torn down. Prince Harry, a ginger who nonetheless married a woman, would be their leader, Rupert Grint his minister for war. Allying with the redheads of Ireland he would invade Europe on the pretext of freeing his despised brethren.

It must not be allowed to happen. Gen Z, so commendably intolerant in other ways, must be warned explicitly of the risk they take. Gingers must stay in their place, and Angry Ginge can continue his rants on YouTube while he is fired into the sun.

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