After weeks of rather dull audition
footage, it’s time to inject a little glamour into the proceedings. Let's usher in some A-list guest stars, visit some exotic locations and roll out the
teary confessional interviews as we head off to the Judges’ Houses.
Over two nights we’re going to whittle down our hopefuls from 25 to the final
twelve. That’s right – 25. Because of some ridiculous visa issue, Louis had to
drop one of his groups, and replace them with two others. It’s inordinately
complicated, so let’s concentrate instead on the preposterous nature of this
round of the competition. When the show first started, it seemed as though we
were genuinely getting an insight into the judges’ private worlds, right down
to Louis’ bedsit overlooking the Liffey. It was a joke that never got old;
seeing everyone else jetting off to exotic locations, as Louis’ group queued up
at the Ryanair check-in desk.
But as the show got bigger, so too did its
penchant for exaggeration. So now we’re expected to believe that Gary owns a
country pile that would make Downtown Abbey look like the Dingle’s lean-to. As we
zoom in on Boughton House in Northamptonshire, we hear the familiar theme tune
to All Creatures Great And Small. Hopefully this means that instead of singing
for their place in the live finals, the ‘Overs’ will be asked to deliver a foal
with their bare hands.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, here’s Tulisa
in her cliff-top mansion in St Lucia. If they wanted us to swallow this
unfeasible plot twist, they could have shown her running round the house and whipping
her tights off the radiator before the guests arrive. Instead, she races
towards the beach on a speedboat to welcome the girls to the Caribbean island.
Meanwhile, Louis is living it up in Las
Vegas – otherwise known as Sin City – despite the fact that the closest he’s
ever come to bacchanalian excess is making his Ovaltine with full-fat milk. Louis
welcomes them, saying “You can feel the energy of this city,” but only if you
stick a twenty down its bra. The lads are particularly happy, reminding us:
“Louis is great, he’s done boybands before.” Sorry, there’s no time for
innuendo, as Sharon Osbourne has just rolled out of a limo wearing her latest
face, and looking as though she could have been carved on the front of a tea
clipper.
Last, and quite possibly least, is Nicole,
who’s shipping the boys out to Dubai. Rylan laments that he hasn’t got a clue
where he’s going, and I suspect that the producers are asking themselves a
similar question. Of course, we all know that he’s off to the Emirates, so I
just hope he’s remembered to pack a burqa. As for Nicole, she’s happy sailing
into the harbour on a yacht, waving her legs in the air like Ariel trying out
her new pins for the first time.
With introductions out of the way, the rest
of the show will be divided into four parts, as each judge takes it in turns to
review their category and then pretend they’re using a Samsung tablet to make their
decisions. There’s a lot of product placement in this episode, so I should
probably point out that I’m writing this on an Apple MacBook Pro and enjoying a
refreshing Smirnoff vodka and Pepsi as I write this.
First up is Louis, who’s sitting on a rooftop
in his pajamas being served mojitos by a shirtless Chippendale. As he and
Sharon giggle conspiratorially about how they’re “Off to a good start,” it’s
clear that Louis has decided to stop pretending. About his heterosexuality
anyway, he’s still faking a full head of hair.
As we whip through the seven groups, their
ridiculous names all seem to merge into a stream of disconnected letters and
numbers, until they sound more like a wireless password than a pop group.
Without wanting to get too negative at this early stage, there’s a depressing
lack of ‘wow’ in the performances. Times Red look pretty, but they’re not as
good as they think they are. Mitsotu have spent their lives dancing for other
artists, and are excited about the fact that they’re here “…to experience it
from the front.” With Louis, anything’s possible. MK1 are here without Will the
accountant, who’s given them his blessing (and a contract demanding a 33% share
of profits). They complement each other pretty well, but I can’t look at them
without picturing the spunky blonde tying bed sheets together in a lost episode
of Bad Girls.
Union J have a new member, and so “It’s all
been a bit of a rollercoaster”. That’s talent-show speak for “we hate each
other’s guts.” After a disjointed start, they manage to mesh pretty well, so
they’re a dead cert for the live finals. Poisonous Twin bounce onto the
balcony, as Sharon greets them with “Hello, Double Mint.” Even over the sound
of Las Vegas nightlife, you can hear the crashing silence that meets that
remark. As for the girls; they’re so dull that I’ve forgotten what they’re
singing even as they’re performing it. Duke are the man-band who always look
naked without a hod of bricks resting on their necks, and they do some
beat-boxing which freaks out Sharon and Louis. The Osbourne matriarch explains “He
threw a didgeridoo into Michael Jackson.” Now that’s something I’d pay to
watch. With one act to go, Louis is trying out a new catchphrase, pointing his
finger at GMD3 and saying “OK guys – sing!” Might need a bit of work, that one.
The boys are doing Broken Road by Rascal Flatts, which is as dull as anything,
but will no doubt appeal to Louis’ penchant for soft country rock. In the end,
it’s clear that he’s got a struggle on his hands, with three boybands to choose
from. Forgive my cynicism, but I won’t be entirely surprised if he mashes them
into one giant supergroup of cheekbones and hair mousse.
Over in Dubai, Nicole is joined by Ne-Yo
and boasts that she’s got a strong category, despite all evidence to the
contrary. Now, remember I joked earlier about Rylan wearing a burka? Well,
turns out I wasn’t far off, since he’s draped in some kind of giant fabric
sheath that makes him look like Grace Jones as May Day. Nicole asks him what
he’s wearing, and he’s as lost for words as the rest of us. His slowed down version
of We Found Love is described by Nicole as the best he’s ever sounded, but we
all know what faint praise that is. Ne-Yo seems unconvinced, prompting Nicole
to add that Rylan has got a “little sparkle” – something of an understatement
for a man who pisses Swarovski crystals.
Speaking of understatements, James moans
that he worries he’s not the full package, and might not have the look to be a
proper pop star. You don’t say. Surprisingly, his unconventional looks disguise
an entirely conventional song-choice, as he takes us through yet another turgid
rendition of I Can’t Make You Love Me. He shouts most of it, and loses grip of
the melody as the emotion takes hold. It’s kind of like listening to someone
dry heave their way through a drunken karaoke. Nathan hasn’t had much
camera-time, and based on his performance, I don’t expect that to change next
week. Adam is similarly inconsequential, sneering his way through a grouch
version of ABBA’s SOS. At this rate, Nicole’s going to need a shit load of
aspirin.
The final two in Nicole’s group are Jake
and Jahmene. The former is upset about his brother, who’s terminally ill. It’s
all very upsetting and clearly affects his vocals. Jahmene is typically timid
and nervous, but at least he’s ditched the cheap suits for once. He has a
decent stab at Titanium, even if his nerves cause him to struggle with some of
the high notes. Wobbles aside, he’s Nicole’s only hope for a mouthful of silver
tickertape the weekend before Christmas.
Joined by Tinie Tempah, who demonstrates
all the personality of a bathing cap, Tulisa is still boasting about what a
great year her muffins had. But I’m trying not to mention THAT video again, so
we’ll move on. Lucy is trying to be enthusiastic about Tinie, but I’m willing
to bet that the hip-hop folder on her iPod is as empty as Tulisa’s bookshelf.
Jade thinks she lives in a terrifying
shithole (I’m paraphrasing here), so she shouldn’t be surprised if her
neighbours decide to kick in her front door while she’s living it up in the Caribbean.
Her voice is pleasant, but it’s clear that she doesn’t have the strength or the
range for the high notes. Amy blunders her way through an “I’ve been waiting my
whole life for this” speech, but redeems herself with another blinding vocal.
Leanne is another singer with a decent voice, but almost no screen presence at
all, and the other Jade does a passable Roxette, but she’ll mostly be
remembered for her Scouse brows and blue nail varnish. Lucy does an odd version
of I Will Always Love You. It starts out like Dolly Parton’s original – all
acoustic and pared down – before her natural glibness kicks in to make it sound
more like an ironic kiss-off song. Finally, here’s Ella with her skidmark mascara
and ugly poncho ensemble. She’s clearly the best singer in the contest, only
let down by the ridiculous faces she pulls when she’s lost in the music.
Back in the UK, the over-28s are wondering
who their mentor will be, so it’s clear that none of them read the papers. Poor
old goggle-eyed Nicola is gutted that she’ll be singing for the Take That
front-man, saying “I felt sick when I saw Gary.” I believe Robbie Williams has
the copyright on that reaction. Gary’s joined by Cheryl Cole, who makes her
triumphant return to wish the contestants the best of luck “From the bottom of
me ‘art.” It’s clear that Gary’s got bigger things going on in his life, so
we’ll forgive him if he doesn’t seem fully invested in this. Even so, given the
paucity of X-Factor on display in his character, it’s hardly surprising that he
looks as if he’d rather be anywhere but here.
Carolynne is still harping on about what a
shit year she’s had – she couldn’t even make it to H&M to buy some new
jeans. She’s doing When You Say Nothing At All, and it’s an unfortunate choice,
since it’s making me wish she’d just stay quiet and look pretty, as she mangles
the lyrics and screws up the timing. Nicola gets a pep talk from Gary, and it
seems to work because she sings a lot better than she has in previous
installments. Brad is another one who seems to have come from nowhere, and
sings an appalling version of The Final Countdown, that is only recognisable
when he gets to the very last line of the song. Melanie is sweet enough, but
without the encouraging audience, we realise that she has an annoying tendency
to yell instead of sing, throwing melody and phrasing to the wind. Kye is still
being described as a ‘chimney-sweep’ rather than ‘pop singer’, which was his
actual job until the end of last year. His version of Payphone instantly flags
up all the weaknesses in his falsetto. Closing down the show is Christopher,
who constantly looks on the verge of bursting into flames. Gary calms him down
by saying “You need to celebrate this being one of the best days in your life.”
After all, it’s not everyone who gets to stand on a lawn and look at Cheryl
Cole perched on the edge of a rattan sofa. His dated choice of All Out Of Love
shows him up as the perfectly competent pub singer that he is.
Tomorrow, the judges decisions are revealed
and, based on tonight’s performances, they’ll each struggle to find three they
can live with.
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