Antiques to the Rescue, BBC Two, review There was a potentially inspiring story buried in the rather tedious first episode of a new series called Antiques to the Rescue (BBC Two). It took us to the 16th-century Borris House in southern Ireland, ancestral home of the MacMorrough Kavanaghs, where the rather moody Morgan Kavanagh and his more practical wife Sara wanted to raise £20,000 for a new visitor centre to help cover its £200,000 a year running costs. Eager antiques dealer John Foster - who will be familiar to viewers of the Antiques Roadshow - eventually prised a few shabby geegaws from their hands and flogged them for so-so sums, but Kavanagh went behind Foster's back to change a reserve price at an auction house and it cost him. You could almost smell the unspoken clash between the two men: Foster's salesman's aftershave and Kavanagh's musty tweed. Kavangh had not inherited the can-do spirit of his ancestor, Arthur MacMorrough Kavanagh, who was born without arms and legs in 1831 but was still up in the saddle aged 3, going on to become a fearless rider, fisherman and traveller, learning to write and draw with the aid of special devices and eventually being elected as an MP. In a month when we've been awed by the achievements of the Paralympians, I'd have preferred a programme about this extraordinary, pioneering character to watching his damp squib of a descendent picking petulantly through the nick-nacks. As Salman Rushdie wrote in the book he dedicated to his youngest son: "Life is not wet, young man. Life burns.