CHRISTOPHER STEVENS reviews Just One Thing: Clive Myrie lectured us on oily fish... Dr Mosley would have been tucking in
Just One Thing (BBC1)
Newsreader, warzone reporter, intrepid traveller, quiz host and now medical expert with a sideline in quick'n'easy recipes . . . is there nothing Clive Myrie can't do?
The News At Ten anchor took a break from firing questions on Mastermind and reporting from Tel Aviv on the war with Iran to switch into afternoon telly mode.
Ambushing a shopper named Sam in a supermarket, on Just One Thing, he urged her to eat more oily fish. When she looked doubtful, he grabbed a packet of mackerel from the cold counter, peeled it open and persuaded her to nibble a piece.
'It contains these good fats called Omega 3,' he explained. 'And what's brilliant about that is it can help all parts of your body, but it's also really good for your brain.'
You might think it's better still for the digestion to wait till you get home, rather than snacking on chilled fish straight from the plastic. I can't see sushi in the supermarket aisle catching on.
Just One Thing was the brainchild of the late Dr Michael Mosley, an evangelist for all kinds of quick health fixes and lifestyle changes, from 24-hour fasts to ice baths.
Michael died while on holiday in 2024. The BBC, quite rightly, wants to continue his legacy, but this new daily half-hour show misses half the point.
It isn't enough to offer us advice. Michael Mosley was a compelling presenter because whatever he preached, he tackled himself.
The News At Ten anchor took a break from firing questions on Mastermind and reporting from Tel Aviv on the war with Iran to switch into afternoon telly mode
Clive was keen to lecture us on the benefits of eating oily fish three times a week, but Michael would have wolfed a tin of sardines before he reached the checkout, and then tucked into kippers for breakfast, pickled herring for lunch and anchovies on toast for tea.
He'd have been salmon fishing in Scotland, or manning the nets on a trawler in a Force 8 North Sea gale. The most Clive attempted was to don a pair of orange oilskin waders and pretend to be a fishmonger. That's half-hearted. This show lacks the Mosley bounce.
It was left to marketing freelancer Sam and her friends in the Sussex town of Rye to supply the enthusiasm. Understandably, after an initial burst of eagerness, they began to run short of ideas.
On the voiceover, Clive claimed to have the solution: 'I've shared one of my favorite quick and easy oily fish dishes, smoked mackerel and tomato pasta.'
So now he's a celebrity chef. How would he like it if Jamie Oliver started reading the news?
Clive is in danger of stretching his talents too widely. He's a first-rate reporter and newsreader, a man we trust to cover state occasions and elections with probity, diligence and gravitas.
But he will jeopardise that reputation if he continues to moonlight on daytime magazine shows, dressing up like a children's presenter. No one can do everything.
