After an extensive build up that made Ben
Hur look like a Tom & Jerry cartoon, we’re finally here. Someone’s thrown a
kettle of water over the Dancing On Ice rink, and they’ve thrown in some raked
seating to create The Voice Arena. Ricky’s smouldering like Ryan Gosling tied to
a chiminea, and Tom is introduced as “The legend with the lungs,” as if he’s
got them in a carrier bag backstage.
The pressure must be on to choreograph the
logistics of a massive live show like this, so it’s a shame they didn’t put
their rehearsal time to better use. The acts are all doing their awkward
on-the-spot dancing, like Thunderbirds with half their strings cut. Then we’re
treated to a bewildering overhead shot as the judges head for their seats, the
contestants disappear into the audience, and Emma and Marvin take to the stage.
With so many people moving in different directions, it’s like watching that
intersection in Tokyo that always gets shown, whenever a director wants to make
a point about Japanese overpopulation.
Emma is still a breath of fresh air in a
show that often feels more like a stale burp, but her tendency to go off script
causes some painful delays as Marvin waits for the autocue to catch up.
The show kicks off properly with
performances from Team Will. They’re marvelling that “He’s done so much, he’s
got a song in space,” which gets me wondering why we can’t stick them all up
there. Leading the charge is Jermain, who’s “already big in Westminster,” which
seems to translate as “he was on the radio with Ed Milliband.” The Labour
leader does his best to sound supportive, and sticks a little green ‘Vote
Jermain’ rosette to his jacket. It’s a nice sentiment, even though it just
looks like someone sneezed on his lapel. To really hammer home the political
theme, we get lots of footage of him on Westminster bridge, staring
meaningfully at Parliament enveloped in a scarf that’s the size of a beach
towel. He sings Bruno Mars’ Treasure like a Vandross tribute act, and it works
perfectly. Meanwhile, Will takes a picture on his iPad, as a production runner
hides in the wings with a roll of masking tape to try and hide the Apple logo. Speaking
as if he’s campaigning in a local election, he tells Emma “I’m so privileged to
be here and opening up the first live show of season three of the Voice.” Kylie
fails to sell in a simple pun, and Tom has a nasty case of pinkeye. Meanwhile,
Ricky suggests “You could sing us the budget and we’d take it,” but I think
‘Beer and Bingo’ sounds more like a Lucy Spraggan song.
Sophie May feels like she’s won Willy Wonka’s
golden ticket, so let’s just hope she doesn’t end up wedged into someone’s
chocolate chute. A few weeks ago, she was “just an ordinary teenager living at
home.” Now she’s an ordinary teenager
drinking coffee from a polystyrene cup at Elstree. Plus ça change. She does a big band version of Moondance, but sings so much of it
in her low register, that all the high notes sound particularly sharp.
Thankfully the arrangement is loud enough to drown most of it out and I’m
browsing iTunes for the instrumental. After a quick burst of “Ermagerd, I’m
like absolutely buzzin’” there’s a bit of desperately banal patter about her
learning to cook.
Iesher is cute and perky but dead behind
the eyes, as if she was programmed, rather than raised. She wants to take a
break so she and her mates head off to the cinema, which is a bit of a busman’s
holiday for her. Will interrupts the screening to boost her confidence, but I’m
not sure how making 200 impatient moviegoers hate her is going to help. She’s
singing Rather Be, and it’s nice to see her sing something contemporary and age
appropriate. Having said that, it’s a little shrill in places and she
occasionally sounds out of breath. Oh, and that joke I made earlier about the
tape on Will’s iPad? Turns out, that’s exactly what happened. Will gets her to
redo the adlibs she felt she missed in her performance, and Tom growls
something about her “built-in, natural rhythm.” Well, this is awkward.
There’s yet another contrived wrinkle in
the format, on a show that’s already reinvented itself more times than Cher.
This time it’s the Fast Pass. Each mentor gets to choose one act to go straight
through to the semi-final, while the audience votes on the other two. Will
rambles for ages about how his acts were “Freakin’ mega-dope super fresh” and
complements Jermain on his harmonic vernaculars. And on a family show? Anyway,
by the time he finally makes a decision, Emma almost misses it. Then Jermain
heads off to the V-Room, where Marvin asks him “How does it feel to be in the
semi-final?” Moments later, he asks Iesher, “Your fate is in the public’s
hands, how does that make you feel right now?” I’m beginning to spot a theme.
The verdict is that “Will’s team has set
the bar.” And I think I need to hit one. But there’s no time for that. We’re
straight into Team Kylie now. Or we would be if the judges would stop taking
pointless selfies. Everyone’s trying so hard to be current, that I’ve got money
on Tom and Ricky Instagraming their #CockInASock pictures by the results show.
Jamie drives around his hometown with his
overly keen sister, while she terrifies pedestrians with a battery-operated
loudhailer. Tonight he’s singing 1000 Miles, which is all very middle of the
road until the final 30 seconds. He’s left his coat on, so I guess he’s not
staying. The post-performance banter is getting painful, and all anyone can say
is “You look really fantastic.” I get the sense that a lot of editing went into
the footage of those early rounds. Emma complements Jamie on his Mini Cooper,
saying “It’s a lovely car, it’s the colour of my dress,” before sticking her
microphone in his face for a reaction.
Lee gets props for the intensity he brings
to every performance. He’s certainly a dab hand at taking a great pop song and
making it sound like a Japanese whale cull. He’s quit his job, and thrown his
meager possessions in a little blue plastic basket, so he can focus his
energies on Kris Kristofferson’s Help Me Make It Through The Night. It’s been
rearranged like something Bryan Adams might stick on a film soundtrack, and the
staging involves a weird combination of creeping tree branches and silhouetted
dancers. The effect is not unlike a performance in Sherwood Forest’s first
strip club.
Rachael has a shouty dad who doesn’t want
her seeing any boys. At least, I think that’s what he said, since he sounds
like Jim MacDonald with a mouthful of marbles. Rachael’s come dressed as an
oven ready chicken in a tinfoil skirt, and there are way too many neon colours
on display throughout her song. It doesn’t help matters that the dancers seem
to be performing to a completely different track. Rachael’s verdict is that
this is more fun than doing homework. Halfway through the show, and I’d rather
be doing double maths.
Tom’s moaning about young people again.
Next he’ll be fishing a lint-covered boiled sweet from his pocket and reading
the paper with a magnifying glass.
Kylie says she’s had a change and doesn’t
know if she’s hot or cold. What an awkward time to become menopausal. In the
end, she picks Jamie, who heads to the V Room for another inspiring exchange
with Marvin: “Come and join us in the V Room. How are you feeling? Back to you
Emma.”
Apparently, “Tom’s done it all. Seen it
all. Sung it all.” And there’s a good chance that he’s fucked it all too. As we
cut back to the studio, the old legend seems to be making a move on Emma. He’s remembering his first Royal Variety Show
when he was in his twenties, presumably at the request of Queen Victoria herself.
Bizzi tells us he was born and raised in a
church, so I hope they washed the pews before the next Sunday service. He’s
over the moon to be here, saying “It was my dream to be in the final twelve.” I
think he could probably afford to aim a little higher. His performance of If
You Really Love Me sounds fine, but the animated checkerboard motif looks like
Mary Quant’s idea of a vertigo attack. Ricky describes it as a big party song,
but it’s was more of a wedding performance. Will and Kylie have switched right
off, and they’re busy taking stupid pictures of each other.
Sally’s talking about her sad life again,
and as much as I love her voice, I do wish she’d retire this perpetual
recapping of her widowhood. She’s doing To Love Somebody, and this time, she
has a hint of Sandy Denny to her voice, which works incredibly well. The thing
is, she’s had enough time to learn what her voice can and can’t do, as well as
which songs serve it best. Emma calls
out “Tom, she’s got you again, Your eyes are full of tears.” And he resists the
urge to shout “It’s glaucoma you insensitive bitch.” Ricky muses that “There’s
a dark and fragile quality to your voice that I can’t put my finger on.” Even
though he just did.
Georgia used to be fat, and now she isn’t.
As origin stories go, it’s not exactly Spider-Man. She starts way out of time
with her arrangement, and there’s a very distracting photographic effect on the
performance. Everything’s in black and white, with the camera only picking up
elements of red. It works pretty well until we pan past a row of matronly
women, whose rubicund faces trigger the effect as well, making them all look as
if they’ve just finished a cross-country run.
Georgia’s performance is a little too shouty and tuneless for me, and
I’m not sure about the outfit, which looks like Minnie Mouse has gone on the
game.
Tom chooses Sally and they’re obviously in
a rush, because her sons are left hanging about after racing to the stage to
congratulate her. Bizzy and Georgia wander off like disorientated ducklings,
before a floor manager shepherds them back onto the stage. And Marvin reminds
us that tonight’s performances are all on iTunes, with a promise of “Music to
download and keep forever.” Just like those JLS albums.
Over on Ricky’s team, we’re starting things
off with Chris. He’s a reserved and shy person, so thank goodness for the shot
of him crouched in an alley writing poetry against a brick wall. Ricky says “I
think we need a popstar like Chris, someone who comes from nowhere and blows
you away.” That’s how we ended up with James Arthur, and look how that turned
out. Chris gives a great performance of One Day Like This, and it’s nice to see
the effort the stylists have made. It’s just a shame they couldn’t persuade him
to ditch the Oliver Hardy moustache.
Emily’s dad is really missing her, because
the hotel’s going to be dead busy at Easter. Still, she’s been helping out,
serving bowls of grey soup, but now she’s focused on channeling Christina
Aguilera for a surprisingly effective version of Happy. She even looks like a
star, apart from the perm which is still a bit too Page 3 circa 1987. Kylie and
Emma rave about Emily’s legs as if they were both Bella Emberg from the hips
down.
Christina Marie tells us how she got an
office job to support her single mum and help raise her little sister, then
quit in order to chase her dream on The Voice. She seems to be slowly
transforming into Katy Perry, but at least she can sing. Everlong is the
perfect choice for her powerful voice, and hers is one of the best performances
of the night. Tom and Ricky talk about the vocals, and Kylie gets asked for her
opinion on the dress. It’s no surprise that Ricky chooses to save Christina
Marie, who’s treated to another inane exchange with Marvin, before being hugged
like he’s trying to pop her dislocated shoulder back in.
By the time the results show rolls around,
the stars seem as exhausted as I am. There’s a listless group performance of
the mentors’ own songs, which leaves poor Sally looking like she’s been
abducted by a group of Satanists. Jason Derulo runs through two of his latest
hits and reminds us why we all miss Michael Jackson so much. One Republic also
pop up for a low key performance drenched in cold blue light. The energy is
fading fast, so thankfully, Emma doesn’t waste too much time revealing that
Sophie May, Lee, Bizzi and Chris have already made it to the semi-final. Now,
I’m off to freebase some Berocca.
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