Julia Corrigan, a participant of Castaway 2000, has been on the OTT Blog phone, saying: “I almost feel as if I’d written that review on Castaway myself. Well done. But I am trying hard to give them a chance (as I feel quite jealous, though stupidly). It isn’t anything like the original and why should it be. You couldn’t really repeat it, could you?”

Already, you can hear the chains clanking as they tighten around the BBC’s neck – this millstone imparting its full, dull weight. From Danny Wallace’s opening one-eyebrow-raised spiel, to his hopeless double-goodbye at the end, via – well – all the other bits of Danny Wallace, really, tonight’s opener was a terrible exercise in brand revitalization.

That there was never any real sense the original Castaway 2000 represented unfinished business made the whole thing feel more pointless anyway. And in fact, to resurrect the franchise just set up unhelpful comparisons which buried this fun-sized version. For one, as the parade washed up on the shore of that New Zealand off-cut, I found myself thinking that this was no microcosm of society forming on the beach. But, in fact, why should it be? At no point did the show make any claims for staging a social experiment. That, I reminded myself, was the original Castaway.

So what, then, is the modern version actually for? It’s hard to tell. Like a “re-imagining” of Rupert Bear, sometimes it just seems embarrassing to squeeze something old and a little bit noble into a pair of funky trainers. The new Castaway is neither fish nor fowl. We watched the initial landing party find their huts, their food and their beds. Noble savages? Well, no, a bunch of idiots if Wallace’s far-too-regular, glib summations of their actions were anything to go by, as he instructed us on what to think, and who to laugh at.

Worse still, those vital, formative days were put on fast-forward. We saw the gang move a toilet and then suddenly it was time for bed. Twice. It felt as though the programme-makers were in too much of a hurry to get to the good stuff. The bits where people start fighting. As such, the show became a fairly humdrum but overly elaborate scheme to get folk shouting at each other. She hates scroungers and, hey, he’s a scrounger! This is going to be great!

Although, in retrospect, Castway 2000 ended up a folly, it was always a grand one, with its heart in the right place. That was a programme about forging a community, where societal infrastructure and issues on schooling (no kids this time around, you note) were expected to be the big notes. Not, will the lap dancer lamp the “non-practising” Muslim. It was a programme about diverse opinions and desires, rather than something that turned into pretty much an open mike session for some fey self-proclaimed anarchist in a nasty shirt.

But, come on, let’s quit the comparisons. We already know they’re inappropriate. Castaway is clearly so-named simply so the BBC can puff their chests and remind the world they did “reality” first. It’s ironic, then, that in revisiting the franchise, they’ve ended up with something that feels like an own-brand version of C4′s Shipwrecked (buff lads!), crossed with a tad of Survivor (Wallace issuing weekly challenges). That it’s so off the pace of even these mid-league efforts is depressing enough, but then you recall the fact they hit our screens a glacial six years ago …

Castaway is a terrible programme. With all the élan of an ITV2 reality show bolt-on, it should never have washed up on BBC1. Make ready with the distress flares everyone, and get ready to jump the first ship that happens to sail by…

It’s a series that has zero profile today, despite the fact it’s only six years old (hence, The Guardian’s piece takes some pains to explain just what the thing was, and its relevance). In fact, most people have probably forgotten we’ve got Castaway to blame for Ben Fogle. That’s probably because the show – which boasted a fantastic central conceit – was appallingly mishandled by the BBC, who didn’t seem to know if they wanted to produce a Living in the Past or a Big Brother (which came along halfway through its run, panicking the Corporation into installing live webcams on the island).

In the end, through all this fudging they ended up with something so bland, Julia Bradbury’s arrival on Taransay became inevitable.

Looking back on it now, it feels like a rather naive show; in the main desperate to underplay conflict, big-up the community and portray its participants as jolly salt-of-the-Earth types, happy to record their own (bloody awful) version of Abba’s SOS for Children in Need‘s benefit. Despite all that, I’m still hugely fond of it, and hope that if Castaway 2007 does become a reality, this time the Corporation stick to their guns and only broadcast the results once the experiment is over.

Now, can someone let Jack Holden know?

Castaway 2000 is a grandiose scheme from the avuncular BBC wherein 30 people are shipped to an abandoned island off the north of Scotland and left for a year to forge a life for themselves and – more importantly – a community. Billed as a social experiment it is, of course, far too early to mark the programme against this objective. What we can be sure of is Castaway 2000 is great fun.

These opening episodes are going to be unrepresentative of the series to come, in that they’re depicting a very different and far more dynamic situation (people “auditioning” to become a castaway, via a series of outdoor tasks which culminated in an orienteering competition) than the one the series proper will deal with. Over the course of a year routine will set in, and so will boredom, allowing us to really see the subjects of the experiment in their habitat. In the meantime we were invited to inspect 34 people attempting to sell themselves, without making it obvious that they were selling themselves. Aside from anything else, this worked very well as an introduction to the “characters” who are going to populate the drama. And as viewers, with the advantage of being pretty much omnipresent observers, there was much sport to be had as the prospective Crusoes attempted to draw together, to display their ability to “work well in a team, but take individual responsibility” (as the saying goes) and inevitably fell apart as individuality finally asserted itself and tousle-haired self-proclaimed “skippers” like Kim (an unlikable pious rogue) made off in their own direction to the detriment of everyone else.

Watching people forced together attempting to negotiate stressful situations is a sure-fire guarantee of rollicking entertainment by my reckoning.

Unusually, the presence of a psychologist, Cynthia McVey, as a commentator actually worked in this instance. Her comments were sufficiently infrequent and she normally got to the nub of a situation with clarity and the minimum of flannel. Her insights into the strengths (or lack of) displayed by those vying for leadership added a great deal to my appreciation of the tensions that were coming to the fore. Des’ clashes with Jack were depicted with real relish on the part of the programme-makers and our psychologist could barely contain her glee when Des was caught on camera admonishing Jack: “You stupid bastard!”

So who will be castaway? There must be a great temptation for the production team to select Des and Jack, as their ongoing battles would surely provide easy, explosive drama. However, one hopes that reason is exercised and the likes of Ben (diplomatic, personable, practical) make the grade whilst Des and his ilk are bundled back to those lives of quiet desperation from whence they came.

Ah screw reason… let’s see Kim, Des and Jack take to the island and by March will be acquainting ourselves with the latest goings-on of those whooping, naked men (who have blood trails and painted daubings across their cheeks) and their fight for possession of the conch.