ANOTHER classic sitcom slapped with woke trigger warning for ‘offensive language and sex references' in ITV crackdown
Open All Hours ran for four seasons with the BBC between 1976 and 1985 and follows the antics of Arkwright and his young nephew Granville - played by Sir David Jason.
The series was created by Roy Clarke, who is the writer behind other legendary English comedies including Keeping Up Appearances and Last of the Summer Wine.
It soon became a beloved sitcom and is now available to watch on ITVX, however, the streaming platform has added a content warning to the show.
Several episodes all have the following warning, 'Contains language and sex references which may offend some viewers'.
The show contains a few cheeky comments including when Albert fakes being ill to receive attention from Nurse Gladys, played by Lynda Baron.
According to The Sun, the nurse was described as having a 'tightly packed blouse'.
While in series four, Granville, played by Sir David Jason, who was Albert's assistant and nephew, put out a dating ad in the newspaper packed with innuendos.
Some episodes also contain the following, 'Contains racial humour and language of the time that may offend'.
While Tory MP Sir Alec Shelbrooke agreed with the 'racist language' warning and told The Sun: 'There are things in these shows that society has moved on from, such as racist language.'
He blasted the other warning and added: 'But innuendo was and is the backbone and hallmark of some of the best British comedy for generations.
'This type of warning represents everything that has gone wrong in our country.'
MailOnline has approached ITV for comment.
It comes after ITV sparked outrage earlier this year when it added ' woke ' trigger warnings to a beloved 1970's sitcom.
The broadcaster has put a notice on some George & Mildred episodes - saying they contain 'classic British humour from a bygone era'.
But, it was ridiculed for the latest example of over-protecting sensitive viewers.
In one of the episodes hit with the warning Mildred, played by Yootha Joyce, tries to get their dog Truffles to mate as she wanted it to have 'everything in life that I've never had'.
Later in a vet's waiting room, her downtrodden husband George, played by Brian Murphy, discusses their dog's lack of interest in sex.
To which his wife replies: 'You don't have to describe it to me.'
Despite the show featuring some raunchy references, fans were shocked by the warnings.
Free Speech Union founder Toby Young said: 'George and Mildred? Really? What's next?
'The Magic Roundabout on the grounds that viewers with hyperactivity disorder may find the character of Zebedee triggering?'
Someone else added: 'It's happening more and more. Was watching George and Mildred just waiting for the funniest bit and ITV cut it out and there was a warning the other day before Only Fools and Horses about out dated language now Midsummer Murders.'
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The Independent
a minute ago
- The Independent
Sarina Wiegman: I have fallen in love with England after ‘craziest' tournament yet
Shortly before Sarina Wiegman walks into one of the grand rooms at England 's five-star Dolder base overlooking Zurich, Ella Toone can't help but laugh. 'We've nearly killed her twice in this tournament,' Toone says. It sometimes feels like at least twice in single games, especially those against Sweden and Italy. 'You've definitely aged me,' Wiegman told the players after the semi-final. You wouldn't think it as she walks in for a more informal chat with media on the eve of the Euro 2025 final. Wiegman is all smiles and laughs, as you might well be when your team repeatedly get through emotional late rescue acts. Everyone conspicuously looks to the coach in such moments. That isn't always the case in football. Wiegman admits that she finds focus on her 'awkward', if of course 'very special'. Except, it's hard not to focus on her. This is the 55-year-old's third consecutive major final in the England job, and fifth as a manager, going back to Euro 2017. It sums Wiegman up that she says it's a record she doesn't even want to think about until she retires. For everyone else, it defines her. While there have been a number of factors in England's rise, not least FA investment, the money they have spent on Wiegman is well justified. She is almost certainly the single most important figure in the history of the women's team. Hence the FA being 'in awe' of Wiegman, according to many insiders, to the point chief executive Mark Bullingham says she's priceless. If England loves Wiegman, however, what does Wiegman think of England? As a manager, she can come across as an abrupt figure, especially when talking in that matter-of-fact manner. Some close to her just say it's part of being Dutch. Nevertheless, Wiegman's success comes as her own players talk about how she's changed; maybe even softened. She is relaxed enough to elaborate on her relationship with England outside the job, something she hasn't really done before. 'I have been here four years and it just feels like my home away from home. I always enjoy it when I'm at work, when I'm in England. It is just the people, the sporting culture. I really love the sporting culture and the fans of course. It is the connection I have with the people, we are very, very close. The people at the FA, with everyone.' Wiegman is eventually asked whether she's 'fallen in love' with England? 'Yes, I have,' she says. 'Otherwise, I would not be sitting here with such a smile on my face.' Wiegman has certainly harnessed some of England's distinctive sporting traits, most visibly in the resilience of this team. 'Proper England', as her players keep saying. 'I absolutely see that,' she says. 'People that really want to work hard and are very committed.' That quality has been honed for this England team through Wiegman's nurturing of a proper old-fashioned team spirit. It has meant that, no matter how the team plays - and, in this tournament, that hasn't been very well - they always have a chance. Hence her resistance to speak about herself, except in the most couched way. 'I think I'm pretty good at bringing people together. But, without the quality, you're not going to win a tournament. So you need very good players and the support staff. The environment we created, the performance, how we do recovery… but they're important things to be the best prepared. 'What I'm trying to do is bring people together in the best possible way. Players and staff and the people around are really, really good.' As is always the case with such figures, you can't truly separate the real personality from the sporting personality, much as they try to. 'I'm kind of a caring person,' Wiegman says. 'I care about them… but at the same time I'm the coach.' The England players say she now lets out more emotion when they score. 'That comes from these performances,' she laughs. 'It's so intense. Of course I look very calm, but when the whistle goes and we score a goal and we change the game, when you have one minute left, of course that is emotional. Now, yes, like every person, I develop too with experiences. 'What I really wanted to do over all these years was try to enjoy it a little bit more, instead of always being so…' Wiegman interrupts herself. 'You have to be focused in this job, but you need to celebrate the moments that are good. It's really nice.' Some of the squad go even further and describe her as 'a mum'. 'Yeah, you know, sometimes when people say about 'the girls', I think 'do they mean my daughters or my team?!'I care about them but at the same time I'm making these hard decisions at the moment. So sometimes you should leave that caring and leave it up to them. They're grown-up women! But at least a mum should care.' Being in the job for four years has naturally seen her become closer to players, though. 'Those informal moments are just nice, to have a conversation in so you get to know each other better on and off the pitch. I say this a lot, but I truly believe connections make a difference. That's why I like team sports so much. That's what I like about the tournaments because you have more time together, so you have more time to have these informal moments.' Wiegman even admits that she misses the players away from camps. 'When we go into international breaks it's 11 days… you don't have much time. And then I'm not a person who just goes out and has a conversation where there's no purpose.' Much of this comes from the amount of consideration she put into actually taking the job in 2021. 'I think from both sides, before 2021, we have been really diligent to figure out if we were a good match. And you never know until you go in.' They now know so well that she's signed a contract to take her at least to the 2027 World Cup. There was 'a click', as Wiegman puts it. No matter how long she goes in the job, though, she's unlikely to face a tournament as tumultuous as Euro 2025. From the retirements beforehand to the being on the brink throughout, she admits there's been nothing like it. 'Before the World Cup, we had challenges with players who were injured. But in this tournament, it has been the craziest one with how the games went. That has been different.' The words don't quite reflect the mock exasperation on her face. Wiegman does admit that she now recovers from matches better. 'I've worked on that, too, because I always say don't put too much emphasis on the result. Of course, we are here to win, but you can't control winning. You can control what you do and what you try to do to win the games. And I do better at that.' As another tournament proves, however, she's not bad at winning either.
Scottish Sun
a minute ago
- Scottish Sun
BBC star reveals shock plans to leave TV as he reveals major career move
CELEBRITY chef Nick Nairn revealed he's swapped pans for pots — to plant and grow his own produce. The famous cook, who spent 30 years in showbiz, said he doesn't miss a TV career. 4 Nick Nairn is focusing on his gardening. Credit: Andrew Barr 4 He's taken a step back from TV work. Credit: Andrew Barr 4 The cook school has been training chefs for 25 years. Credit: Andrew Barr 4 The TV star teaches two classes a week. Credit: Andrew Barr And he admitted: 'If I never stood in front of a camera again, it wouldn't bother me.' Nick, who found fame on Ready, Steady Cook and Wild Harvest in the mid-90s, suffered a bitter blow when his Nairn's restaurant in Bridge of Allan, Stirlingshire, closed last year. But as part of his lifestyle overhaul, he is now reinvesting in his famous cook school and ploughing his efforts into cultivating his own ingredients. Nick — who co-hosted The Great Food Guys with Dougie Vipond for four series until 2021 and often guested on pal James Martin's shows, including STV's Saturday Morning — says: 'When I was younger, I was ambitious. I liked the money. 'I liked the fame. I liked the whole lifestyle thing. But my whole philosophy has changed. I've been there and done it and honestly, if I never stood in front of a camera again, it wouldn't bother me. 'Because there's a huge amount of time travelling and hanging about with television. Don't get me wrong, I was very lucky. 'Filming's taken me all over the world to Australia, New Zealand, America and Canada, and I've enjoyed it immensely, but I'm 66 now. I'm an old age pensioner. 'So now I do three days a week in my garden and two classes a week in my cook school and I absolutely love it.' Former merchant seaman Nick, from Port of Menteith, Stirlingshire, couldn't even boil an egg until he was 24. But he taught himself to cook on a four-ring electric stove before going into the hospitality trade in 1986. He earned his first coveted Michelin star in 1991, at the age of 31, making him the youngest Scots chef to be awarded the culinary accolade at the time. In 2000, he opened the Nick Nairn Cook School by the Lake of Menteith, which boomed when financial institutions started using it for team-building exercises. But his first major crisis struck with the credit crunch in 2008, as panic in the banking markets swept the globe. 'Devastated' Gregg Wallace FIRED by BBC over MasterChef sexual comments He recalls: 'We're fully booked for six months ahead, and the next minute the phone was going every five seconds with companies cancelling their bookings.' Unperturbed, Nick decided to branch out and open a second cook school in Aberdeen in 2012. He ploughed hundreds of thousands of pounds into the venture, later opening Nick's Pizza Bar in the Granite City, too. He says: 'Aberdeen was still very buoyant as oil and gas was doing really well. 'But opening the cook school was a lot of hard work and business was slow to start with. 'Then it really took off in 2013 and we had two amazing years where we were packed out seven days a week. 'Of course, in 2015 we had the oil price crash. Oil went from $110 to $28 a barrel overnight, and our businesses came to a shuddering halt.' But worse followed in 2017, when Nick was injured in a street attack by oil worker Scott Smith. Thug Smith was later fined £900 after admitting the assault, which left Nick with two black eyes and a bloody nose. He says: 'As well as getting assaulted by some drunk in the street, I then tripped in a hotel and broke my ankle and finger.' The chef decided to make a real go of the restaurant business, opening Nick's in Bridge of Allan in February 2020 — a month before Covid saw the entire world grind to a halt. Then, in August 2021, a faulty fryer caused a huge blaze in the packed restaurant, gutting the premises. Incredibly, no one was hurt. Nick, who lives with his third wife Julia, explains: 'One of the chefs screamed, 'Get out'. 'I think everybody thought it was a terrorist attack, so they jumped up and left their phones and coats. 'I was cooking in Port of Menteith so my wife headed off to Bridge of Allan. She could see a big plume of smoke from miles away — that was literally our business going up in smoke.' After a full refurbishment, Nick's reopened as Nairn's in July 2023. The whole sorry saga ended last year amid an alleged 'bitter row' with the restaurant's landlord. Amid the upheaval, Nick's Port of Menteith cook school had also flooded in 2021. So it's little wonder the chef is enjoying a quieter life. He is focusing on his beloved first cook school, which is celebrating its 25th anniversary. Nick, who also runs The Kailyard in Hilton's Dunblane Hydro, says: 'Everything has come full circle. I'd almost become a full-time telly chef and my work took me away from home a lot of the time. 'But Lake of Menteith is kind of like paradise. I have a big polytunnel covering 100 square metres and I have my raised beds outside and just love growing my own produce. 'We cook everything from scratch. I love it. TV got in the way of this before, but it won't again.' For more information on Nick Nairn's Cook School or restaurant, visit
The Guardian
2 minutes ago
- The Guardian
Proper England? Maybe, but the Lionesses legacy can be something completely new
You can understand why the Lionesses needed a new catchphrase. Four years ago, when they won the Euros at Wembley, they effectively retired: 'It's coming home.' So this tournament it's all been about 'proper England', a mantra so versatile you can use it for just about anything that's taken place during their Euro 2025 campaign. Georgia Stanway drills one in from the edge of the penalty area? Proper England. Hannah Hampton makes a save with a bloodied wad up her nose? Proper England. Leah Williamson launches a Blue Peter badge? That's proper England, that is. It's a relatable phrase because it seems to embody English football (including its fandom) so smartly, combining solid street slang with a sophisticated hint of irony. And the great thing is, no matter the result on Sunday, it will function perfectly for the denouement. Stealing a European Championship win from a better team at the last feasible moment is absolutely proper England. But then so is burgling your way to a major tournament final and being outplayed by Spain. Hopefully the phrase will outlive the tournament – who knows, if England win it might even become one of those words of the year like 'goblin mode' and 'brain rot'. But the dictionary compilers might insist on a precise definition, which is currently hard to come by. My mate Becki told me she Googled 'what does proper England mean?' last week and the video of Lucy Bronze explaining it left her more baffled than when she started. Even the team itself isn't agreed on the meaning. When Millie Bright first brought the phrase into public use in 2023, she was using it to describe England's defending, a way of making the Lionesses harder to beat. For Bronze it's a flashback to the days when England were underdogs, having 'to dig out performances' against stronger opposition. Sarina Wiegman defines it as playing with purpose and moving the ball upfield. More philosophical squad members equate it with togetherness ('We'll work hard until we can't run any more and stick together' – Alessia Russo) built on Brené Brown principles ('We've made ourselves very vulnerable' – Beth Mead). Or it might just be taking your lumps à la Hannah Hampton and leaving the field battered, bruised but united. Proper England certainly seems easier to feel in your gut than interrogate in your brain. The term encompasses so much in so few syllables, thanks to the way it maps a footballing team identity on to an underlying national one. By evoking a self-image bristling with 'd' words – doughty, dogged, determined – it appeals to a narrative deeply embedded in the English consciousness. This is a country that has sold itself the story of its tenacious fighting spirit for centuries, from Agincourt to Trafalgar, Balaclava to the Blitz. There's no doubt that has influenced and informed the way English fans regard, and talk about, their teams' sporting campaigns. Meanwhile the national footballing identity long followed the same logic employed by monarchs and politicians past, defining the English way not by what it was as much as what it was not. It was not, heaven forfend, French or Spanish – nor was it German, Italian or South American. That cussed assertion frequently provided cover for any lack of flair and imagination, or a failure to adapt to more modern styles. No England team need to adhere to self-perpetuating stereotypes, and women's sport ought, surely, to be less defined by them. If the distinctive English football style, as David Goldblatt has described it, is 'rough, honest, manly', then female footballers denied a place within the wider development structure by the Football Association have the right to snub it entirely. The England women's team deserve the space and licence to play with an entirely different mentality and style. They, after all, have the winning brand. Sign up to Moving the Goalposts No topic is too small or too big for us to cover as we deliver a twice-weekly roundup of the wonderful world of women's football after newsletter promotion The men's side have been working for the past decade to shed some of the less helpful (and more nebulous) concepts of 'the English way'. Michael Owen was one of several former players consulted by Gareth Southgate as the then manager built up his blueprints of an 'England DNA' for the entire FA pathway. Previous men's sides had been shaped by the public's outdated and sentimental expectation of their 'bulldog' character, said Owen. 'They wanted to see the players chasing everything, being physical, playing at 100mph and showing passion. But that wasn't the way successful international teams played.' Given the globalism of sport, the multiculturalism of the British isles, and the dual nationalities of many international athletes, the idea of what constitutes our national sporting identity is, in fact, entirely up for debate. Southgate, a big fan of the All Blacks' methods, used a Kiwi consultant, Owen Eastwood, to help him reset the footballing culture. Terry Butcher's bloodied bandage gave way to more relatable, contemporary visions of what playing for England might mean and look like. Another All Blacks adviser – the mental skills coach Gilbert Enoka – has recently joined the England men's cricket team, another manifestation of its New Zealand-led philosophy. It would be hard to argue that there was anything remotely 'proper England' about Ben Stokes's side in the Bazball era, which jettisoned the Keep Calm and Carry On mantra for a high-risk, all-flair style of play. Their mould-breaking methods have brought about some of the most dramatic victories and historic rearguards in their team's history. On a podcast last week, Hampton reflected on her side's nerve-shredding route to the final. 'I think it's just the proper English way of doing things,' she said. 'We like to keep all the fans on their toes.' But miraculous, last-minute turnarounds are a rarity in the England sporting canon. The Lionesses' trademark unbeatability is transforming the English football legacy into something completely new. If that's proper England, it's proper exciting.
