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Here we were at last: Britain’s Got Talent finals night.
Ooh, the excitement. Would it be Janey Cutler, the Scottish Zelda? Or Tobias Mead, the kerrrazzyy backwards dancer?
Maybe this was the year for someone with real, actual entertaining talent to win; someone like impressionist Paul Burling?
Whatever. We were just happy – ecstatic, actually – that this year’s BGT final wouldn’t be tarnished by insufferable posh kids The Arrangement (name of their violin player? Lara Le Cort De Billo).
It seems to have been a longer ride this year, but we’re there at last: the Britain’s Got Talent Semi-Finals.
Maybe the sheen is beginning to tarnish: once you’ve seen one terrifyingly stentorian middle-aged lady making an abused border collie do some ballet for a molecule of bacon, you’ve seen them all.
Or perhaps we’re just getting older now: the pensioners who are so desperate for human interaction that they’re glad to spend an evening singing 40s standards while standing in an expanding puddle of piss seem less like our great-grandparents and instead step depressingly up the ancestral ladder.
Either way, this year’s Britain’s Got Talent has been an oddly dispiriting one. But now it nears its conclusion…
Week 6 of the auditions for Britain’s Got Talent, and boy are the producers really sorting the wheat from the chaff now.
And then, for some odd reason, sticking the chaff onto their stage, filming it and directing the footage to our telly screens.
We simply do not believe that this week’s auditions failed to throw up a single act better than the 50-year-old virgin ginger accountant, the 14-year-old proudly patriotic potato and the verging-on-child-abuse father/son act.
So, we naively live on in the hope that there were some acts put through this week that we will only get to see in the later rounds.
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.
Welcome to The Future. The Brave New World. Eternal Peace And Harmony And Free Unicorns For Everyone.
Or – depending on your political views – to The Future. The Destruction Of Our Beloved Old World. Eternal War And Sadness And Free Colonic Irrigations With Powdered Glass For Everyone.
Yes, the country has voted. But because everybody hates Labour, and loves the Liberal Democrats (but not enough to actually, you know, vote for them) we now have to endure a week of politicians gurning on our tellies like meth-fed Toby Jugs
Also this week: several other hopelessly hopeful people have thrown themselves before the public, crying out for a bit of love (or at least bland-faced indifference). How could we possible connect the two?
Week two of the auditions, and we’re all still waiting for this year’s *wow* moment. Would we see it this week?
Almost. When “51″-year-old Christine Wilkes came on stage, you could feel the country’s indrawn breath: here was an ugly woman in ugly clothes, who was surely – for such is the classic BGT narrative – poised to astound us with her angelic voi…oh christ, what is that? She sings even worse than she looks, and given that she looks like a heroin-addicted dinnerlady fitted with Chris Brown‘s teeth, that is very very badly indeed.
Three noes, and off stomped Christine. Was there anyone decent auditioning this week? Let’s see…
Like bad Mexican food, Britain’s Got Talent returns, and brings with it much pain and…. diarrhoea?
Okay, just the pain.
It’s 2010, baby, and BGT is going to party like it’s 2009. Which means that the producers have set out determined to find someone who looks like a forest daemon, but sings like a woodland nymph.
We’ll see if that happens, but based on the first week’s set of nopefuls it seems more likely that Amanda Holden‘s face will register any kind of human emotion more realistic than those robotic dolls the Japanese keep making.
Firstly this week, let’s look at Kieran Gaffney’s Mum And Dad.
