
Early in the new ITV series featuring presenter Stephen Mulhern, there exists a moment of such quiet devastation it reframes our understanding of celebrity travelogues. The 47 year old entertainer whos built a career hosting glossy game shows reads a letter from his recently widowed mother. His voice breaks as the words remind him both of his fathers passing and maternal love. This emotional tremor informs everything that follows in a program where Ant McPartlin and Declan Donnelly essentially send their terrified friend into exposure therapy disguised as a Korean vacation.
Watching Mulhern confront paralyzing fears from unfamiliar foods to open water swims reveals more than personal growth narratives. It illuminates how entertainment formats increasingly function as public therapy sessions. This collision of vulnerability and voyeurism creates compelling television while raising ethical questions about televised healing. Mulhems journey becomes emblematic of an industry shifting toward raw authenticity as audiences tire of curated perfection.
Viewers familiar with Mulhern through programs like Dancing on Ice or Catchphrase know his persona as a polished showman radiating cheerful professionalism. Beneath this veneer lurked undisclosed anxieties that shaped his life in surprising ways. His avoidance of commonplace foods like ham and hummus stems not from culinary preference but genuine phobias. His fear of ocean swimming relates to losing visual control, a trait shared by many whose brains prioritize safety through routine. Watching him tremble while sampling Korean seafood or strip naked in a traditional jimjilbang spa feels uncomfortably intimate, exposing private struggles beneath public celebrity.
Celebrity travel shows traditionally followed predictable arcs these journeys as wish fulfillment, immersing viewers in gorgeous locales while showcasing hosts enjoying luxury. Recent years saw this model disrupted, first by comedians emphasizing awkward cultural exchanges then by shows like The Misadventures of Romesh Ranganathan leaning into discomfort. Mulhems series differs fundamentally by centering psychological transformation rather than comedy or spectacle. His challenges become therapeutic assignments designed by producers to reframe deep seated anxieties.
Therapeutic television isnt new but typically occurs in designated spaces talk shows, documentaries, or scripted dramas about mental health. Watching a mainstream entertainer navigate genuine phobias in real time blurs these boundaries. When Mulherns anxiety manifests as visible shaking during an acupuncture session wires therapy fosters dopamine responses through entertainment, creates ethical ambiguities worth examining.
British television history offers precedents for this hybrid format. Remember Robson Green forced to eat bugs in Extreme Fishing, or Amanda Holden skydiving for charity specials? Earlier examples focused on physical endurance for entertainment value. Modern iterations like Mulherns dive into psychological terrain, leveraging vulnerability as their primary currency. Audience demand for authentic connection drives this evolution, with streaming platforms rewarding disclosure through algorithms favoring emotionally charged content.
South Koreas cultural backdrop proves fascinating for these personal breakthroughs. The country has become shorthand for cutting edge pop culture through the global Hallyu wave, yet maintains deeply rooted traditions. Watching Mulhern navigate this dichotomy stresses universal truths about fear and adaptation. His visit to a noisy Mukbang studio where hosts broadcast elaborate eating rituals introduces him to viral entertainment far removed from Britains family friendly game shows. Confronting peninsula specific delicacies becomes poignant when considering Korea endured devastating food shortages within living memory. Every cuisine holds cultural narratives if we listen closely enough.
Beyond the food challenges lies more profound cultural immersion. Traditional Korean medicine views physical and mental health as interconnected, making Mulhems acupuncture session both medical treatment and spiritual ritual. The holistic approach contrasts sharply with Western models that often isolate psychological treatment from bodily experience. Watching him engage with these practices underscores how travel can rewire neurological pathways when approached with openness.
Hidden within this entertaining structure we find subtle commentary on masculinity and emotional expression. Mulhern operates within an entertainment industry shaped by male icons from Bruce Forsyth to Bradley Walsh archetypes emphasizing cheerful resilience. His willingness to cry during vulnerable moments, particularly when discussing his late father, demonstrates shifting norms around male vulnerability in British culture. Compare this to 2019 research from the Movember Foundation showing working class British men still struggle most with emotional disclosure, and such televised vulnerability becomes quietly revolutionary.
The presence of Ant and Dec deserves particular examination. Britains favorite presenting duo serve dual roles as friend and architect of Mulhernes challenges. Their laughter at his phobias carries genuine affection rather than mockery, crucial for viewer acceptance, yet their position raises questions about boundary negotiation between personal friendship and professional collaboration. Friends forcing exposure therapy would raise eyebrows offline however television production codifies this dynamic as entertainment. This reflects broader shifts where intimacy becomes commodified content rather than private experience.
Contrast emerges between Mulhernes journey and previous ITV travelogue projects. Remember 2018s Bear Grylls diving from helicopters into jungle survival scenarios? That approach emphasized physical extremes for adrenaline thrills. Mulhernes challenges require psychological resilience more than physical prowess, prioritizing internal transformation over external feats. Its impossible to ignore how Britain psychiatric crisis, with 1.5 million awaiting mental health treatment, creates audiences hungry for therapeutic narratives.
Behind these compelling personal moments lie fascinating production insights. Holidays chat with crew members hint towards rising tensions between ethical duty and entertainment value during filming. Ethical production requires careful consideration when designing challenges that could worsen rather than alleviate anxiety disorders. The term therapeutic entertainment entered academic discourse in 2025, defined by media scholar Laura Henderson as content blending psychological self improvement with recreational viewing. This emerging genre occupies contested territory between empowerment and exploitation, particularly regarding participant aftercare.
Koreas entertainment industry offers relevant parallels in its management of celebrity mental health issues. Recent tragedies involving K pop stars led to increased mental health support systems during productions, something UK reality television lacks universally despite high profile cases like Love Islands Mike Thalassitis. Observing Mulhernes experience raises questions about duty of care in programs manipulating emotional vulnerability for content.
Ultimately the series most resonant theme involves rebuilding after loss. Mulhernes fathers recent passing haunts his journey like a silent passenger. Watching him muster courage while mourning presents grief as both burden and catalyst for growth. His hesitant decision to honor his father by embracing life fully gives the program unexpected emotional weight, transcending typical travelogue fare. Perhaps this explains why audiences connect so deeply, seeing their own struggles with change mirrored in a celebrity nervous about green vegetables.
As episodes conclude with teary breakthroughs, one marvels at television still finding new ways to document human transformation. Mulhernes journey critiques the very escapism his game shows provide, arguing that meaningful connection happens when masks drop. Where most travel programs promise temporary distraction from reality, this one delivers something rarer and more profound, proof that confronting discomfort sometimes reveals who we really are beneath the carefully crafted persona.
By James Peterson