Don’t. Tell. Anyone. I’m watching Arani Issa. And I’m disappointed because I’ve missed the first in the double bill. Here come the credits! The list of sponsors. The lovely icicle effect letters; Trid Tara Biex Temmen. (They’ve got that right, that’s for sure). And here comes Joseph Chetcuti himself, or should I say Dr Joseph Chetcuti, all made up and ready for the show. Let the mocking begin!

Then they roll out the protagonist. And a small prick of conscience begins to niggle at the smirk on my face. Mariella has been nominated by her elderly mother who tells us how much her daughter deserves something for herself because she has given her life to helping others. Now I feel distinctly uncomfortable. We learn that Mariella has spent the last few years tending to her dying father and generally tending to her elderly parents’ every need. Now I feel really guilty. This is no fun. I can’t laugh at this woman. She seems nice. Her mother seems nice. I can’t make fun of these nice people.

Back comes Joseph, sorry Dr Joseph. That’s better - I can laugh at him instead. Nice skin-tight jerkin Joseph. I’ll give the man credit though, I’ve never seen a man wear such, well, tasteful, make-up. His eye-shadow is exquisite. He’s positively glowing.

Some elevator music and cheesy fade-outs later, we learn that Mariella is gong to be the lucky recipient of a mastopexy and, later an abdominoplasty. That’s a boob job and a tummy tuck to you and me. She doesn’t look as though she needs it, but lucky her. Roll some shots of random men crying, Mariella’s mother, also crying, then Joseph himself also nearly crying, holding Mariella’s hand and kissing her forehead as the anaesthetic takes effect. Then some grainy, black and white footage of the operation itself, scalpel on skin, tissue being removed that sort of thing. More relatives crying. More music, more kissing. Even more crying. I turn the channel.

Phew, like manna from heaven, I find What Not to Wear on Living. The premise of the programme is not a million miles away from Arani Issa, but with a lot more style and a lot less tears. To give you the general idea, slightly overweight women with serious fashion problems get their hair and make-up done and are taught how to buy dresses with high waists so that they’ll look thinner. But the production and the finished result could not be more different. Where WNTW is edgy, stylish and practical, Arani Issa is sentimental, mawkish and maudlin. Where WNTW is fast-paced and graphic with satisfying before and after pics, Arani Issa is crummy and slow-moving and doesn’t give us a glimpse of Mariella’s boobs or belly.

Anyway, back to Mariella. She gets a new dress. She gets her nails done. She gets her make-up done (Pħala skintone ija vera lucky). She gets a new necklace, she gets her hair done (Ħa nagħmlula l-colour fuq il-brown). Joseph talks us through all this with his inimitable fawning style.

And then, finally, drumroll please! Mariella is presented to her family so they can see how beautiful she now is (“Qisha principessa”). She’s ecstatic. Her family are ecstatic. Joseph is ecstatic. He’s in his element, jumping from one person to the next, tweezing out their emotions, squeezing out their tears.

Actually I think they’ve make her look older. And a bit fatter. But as long as she’s happy, that’s the main thing. Presumably Malta’s housewives are happy too, watching such a transformation. I’m sure the sponsors are happy. And Dr Joseph Chetcuti is definitely happy.

As for me, I think I’d be happier with a What Not to Wear five thousand dollar shopping spree in New York, thanks.

Arani Issa repeat double-bill Wednesday nights on One TV