While there is, sadly, still some debate as to whether Love Island is the greatest TV programme of all time (say what you like about The Sopranos, but nobody ever asked Tony if he fancied going to third base before farting on his leg), there can be no argument as to whether it is the most informative.
The reality show – in which a bunch of horny men and women are invited on to an island seemingly for the sole purpose of having sex with each other then going home – may look cheap and tawdry. But delve deeper and you’ll notice that it speaks wider truths, revealing much about who we are and how we love.
Allow me to boil this complex and multifaceted programme down to its basic elements: each week, the men and women are invited to couple up and then share a bed with their new partner. Any spare parts have to try and split up a couple, or face being ejected from the island. New men and women are voted in as the series progresses, and at the end, I think one couple is claimed the overall winner, although, let’s be honest, that bit is irrelevant. The real purpose seems to be for contestants to have some grubby and vaguely demeaning casual sex live on television, quite possibly in a wardrobe. Lord Reith himself would surely rejoice to know that the televisual values he held dear had spread as far as ITV2.
For work purposes, I was asked to watch every single minute of the current series to reveal its key lessons. Because I am a diligent journalist who realised I might one day be called on to write about the show, I had also already watched every single minute of all previous series and incarnations – including the 2005 Celebrity Love Island with Paul Danan. Here are 10 things I’ve learned about modern romance.
There is no man more attractive than …
A man called Terry with a neck tattoo. Don’t question me on the wider science behind this. All I know is that one day a man named Terry strolled into the villa looking like a lesser-known member of East 17 and every single girl collapsed into a quivering mess of jelly as if George Clooney had just jetted in.
There is no girl more attractive than …
The newest. The men on the island all claim to have a type, but my extensive research suggests there is nothing more attractive to a Love Island male than being simply the latest female to walk through the door. As is often said – men are complex beasts.
Smoothness is in the eye of the beholder
How else could you possibly explain a girl called Kady cooing: “He is so smooth,” after she went on a date with an intense weirdo called Dan who stared into her eyes and whispered: “You have amazing tits”? His follow-up was, arguably, even smoother: “I’m probably going to have a few drinks and then come on to you. Is that going to be a problem?” Not in any way creepy.
True love waits
This was the message that contestant Cara decided to teach her assigned lover, Nathan. Even when he deployed his most charming courtship rituals – humping her leg, say, or getting drunk and accusing her of being frigid – she refused to consummate their relationship. Unfortunately, such impressive abstinence came to nothing when she was faced with the none-more-smooth (see above) line: “Could you just wank me off, then?”
Now, you may have realised that there are not 10 things listed above. That’s because midway through writing point number five – something deep about intersectional fourth-wave feminism – I was struck by the biggest lesson of all: I have, in truth, learned absolutely nothing from Love Island. Nothing at all. The things listed above are all things that did happen, it’s true, but they have not actually taught me anything.
The women on Love Island have zero wisdom to offer us, and the men even less. Which makes for the slightly uncomfortable realisation that I have watched every single minute of this series of Love Island, and every single minute of the previous series of Love Island, and every single minute of the 2005 celebrity incarnation featuring Paul Danan, and taken away precisely nothing from the entire experience, beyond the fact that you can’t learn anything about romance – or indeed anything – from Love Island. But I still maintain that it’s at least as good as The Sopranos and will be tuning in again tonight.
