It’s season five of Britain’s Got Talent, and we’re still looking for real contenders.
Oh sure, we’ve had the S&M parents, the singing dust statue, and the insufferably posh kids (name of their violin player? Lara Le Cort De Billo).
But we’ve all been waiting for something new. Something exciting. Something to really get Simon Cowell‘s moobs bouncing with enjoyment.
Something to get Amanda Holden‘s emotion circuits smoking. Something to get Piers Morgan‘s loosely-connected lower jaw to detach from his face and fall onto the judges’ desk.
This was that week.
Firstly, Twist And Pulse. Now, hecklerspray does not ‘do’ urban dance. We don’t like it, we think it’s silly, and we nearly gutted ourselves with a fish knife when Diversity won last year.
So when we get some numpties coming on stage for their intro and telling us that they’re an urban dance act, we have the same thought every time: is there a shard of glass handy we can chew on for a few minutes just to take our minds away from these tumbling tossers?
But this year, it seems that the Britain’s Got Talent guys are being more selective in which urban dance acts they let through. See, truth be told, Twist And Pulse were very good.
Don’t get us wrong, they weren’t Susan Boyle ‘very good’. But, for a couple of cheeky chancers from London – performing in a style we usually hate more than Nazis, the influenza virus, and Robert Pattinson‘s face – they were great.
Two teenage lads, moving their flexible young bodies around the stage in – at times – an overtly sexual way. Simon loved them, saying:
“You are two people I’m going to remember for all the right reasons.”
*wink*
The microphones failed to pick up his next words: “Have them packed in grease and shipped to my luxurious LA mansion.”
Good work, boys.
Secondly, Paul Burling. Nostalgia can be a positive thing. It has led to comebacks for such great artists as ABBA, Rage Against The Machine, and Slash.
But it can also look incredibly dated when you’re the only person who is feeling the love for a particular bygone theme.
And so it was that Paul Burling stepped onto the Britain’s Got Talent stage and gave us an act which wouldn’t have looked out of place on the late ’70s TV show Bernard Manning Presents: Six Racist Comedians And A Bloke Who Sounds Like Famous People.
But, despite a dated act (Scooby Doo impersonations would’ve brought down the house in 1971) we can’t deny that Paul Burling was a funny guy.
Even Simon Cowell, whose face usually expresses about as much emotion as Kristen Stewart after surviving an explosion in a botox factory, was openly laughing.
We watched as Amanda Holden laughed, too. Although – obviously – she glanced at Cowell every couple of seconds to make sure her lip motors were functioning in a passably human way.
We listened – intently – as Piers Morgan tried to communicate with society. But – so sad – all we could make out was the sound of a saturated face flannel being used to wash crude oil off a guillemot caught up in some tragic environmental disaster.
Paul Burling owned the Britain’s Got Talent stage this weekend and – given the stringent editing of his act – we predict he will return and go far.
Lastly, two acts – both surnamed James – who weren’t quite as good. And by ‘quite’, we of course mean ‘in any way approaching the universal mathematical constancy known as equally‘.
Mark James. Sweaty balloon dressed up in one of those tedious half-and-half costumes, performed a terrible song from the 80s in a way which suggested Geoff Capes (oh yes, we know our 1980s) was hidden under his dress and was squeezing Mark’s sodden testicles like a man hanging from an 89th-floor windowledge.
Cowell hated him, the other two did their rebellious teenager thing and voted him through.
Alyn James. Looking like Willie Nelson‘s psychiatric-patient brother, Alyn revealed that he was a retired dentist.
Good god, can you imagine waking from anaesthesia and seeing Alyn James leering back at you? His long, nicotine-stained hair tickling your cheeks, his walrus-like moustache bristling against your chin.
We’re fairly confident that he smells exactly the way you’d imagine.
And his singing stank, too. Aha-ha.
Oh, cheap jokes, how we love you.
No, seriously: Alyn James chose to sing a self-penned ballad about a female friend who committed suicide, but then didn’t. Because Alyn James is the kind of small-town idiot who will believe anything Penny down at the baker’s tells him, without question.
Universally despised by the judges.
Next week: more Britain’s Got Talent auditions, and – hopefully – a similarly pleasing mix of quality contestants and people who genuinely, painfully, require psychiatric help.
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googy says
Paul, you’re so funny. Really entertaining. Oh no, wait, thats stuart heritage.
Alyn James says
“Because Alyn James is the kind of small-town idiot who will believe anything Penny down at the baker
Lara Le Court De Billot says
You spelt my name wrong dick weed.
Richard Brown says
My dad said if he ever met Paul Gibson he would feed him to our dog, scrotum first.