Phillip Schofield Castaway review: emptying the toxic tanks and settling scores

If Castaway really was his farewell to television then the former golden boy of the sofa went full metal jacket, scatter gunning former colleagues with bitter barbs which must have cut as deep as any slash from a knife, trashing the media, and declaring: “I don’t care anymore!” Unfortunately for Phil, the audience figures suggest neither do we.

His departure from This Morning following his “unwise but not illegal” affair with a junior much younger male ended his career, and what came across in this often difficult to watch, often tedious, utterly self absorbed three-part navel-gazing series was someone who still burns with bitterness and is just - only just - biting his tongue.

Schofield has spent his life in television - “the smell of the television studio still excites me” he confessed - and, at 62, and all he has ahead is a long empty road. “No place to be and miles to go” as Springsteen sings.

Ten days of solitude gave him a chance to reflect and come to terms with his own part in his downfall, but the narrative we got was tightly controlled. He might as well have written “unwise, not illegal” in giant letters in the sand on the island.

Schofield was effectively presenter, writer, host, director and producer, and there was no-one to challenge his assertions or probe beyond his carefully crafted mantra which minimised his actions as something akin to a misfortune. Maybe they could have spiced things up with Holly Willoughby arriving by boat on day two, and Eammon Holmes could have parachuted in to give us his tuppence worth in a beach showdown as Schofield confronted the ghosts of his past, present and possibly future.

The problem with reality television is that it isn’t actually real. We get to see only a fraction of the footage. Ten days equals 240 hours. We got 180 minutes, minus the adverts.

But what a pity party they made.

Schofield repeated the “thrown under a bus” mantra time and again as his sense of betrayal simmered. There were three “cowards” - un-named maybe but not too hard to work out who his targets were - which took him all the way back to Queue-gate when he and Holly were perceived to have skipped the vast long lines to pay tribute to the late Queen. That, perhaps even more than the scandal of his affair, was the start of a parting of ways with the British public. Dissing the Queen is a serious offence, punishable by cancellation with no time off for subsequent good behaviour. Not even a shopping channel will touch you after that…

Schofield clearly doesn’t forget - he certainly doesn’t forgive. His pre-recorded interviews were designed to frame the narrative, and the very opening scene had him round the garden table asking his family if they were okay - a real snark at his former TV partner. They laughed. The audience cringed.

We got glimpses, but nothing more, of the real damage done by Schofield in the interviews with his daughters, but Schofield’s language minimised his role, and maxed up the impact of others on him. It was all me, me, me - the blame lay heavily on other shoulders.

It got a bit boring after a while, even for a man who knows how to make good telly. Phil the fisherman, Phil the useless DIY-er, Phil the explorer all felt a bit two dimensional in this story of Phillip Schofield And The Quest For Public Redemption.

He spoke many times of the media and its part in his downfall, even concocting his own headlines about his dishevelled look upon his return to the UK. I must have missed them given this was all pre-recorded …

His final act was to write down a list of all the things and people who were and are toxic in his life before tossing it on a fire. “That’s it,” he said. “And now, the toxic tank is empty. The goodness tank is full.”

Where Schofield goes from here is hard to say. The finale proclaimed his “recovery” but this was neither comeback or closure. What next he was asked? “Nothing, absolutely nothing” as he departed an empty island he described as his paradise; a place he vowed to return to one day. which just begged a question – why?

In the world of reality TV, Castaway will go down in infamy, somewhere between George Galloway purring like a cat, and Leo Sayer storming out of Big Brother in a row over underpants. Neither were their finest moments.