Bak's TV Week: Britain's Got Talent

Susan Boyle's Got Talent

 

And so, after seven interminable weeks of auditions, the semi-finals of Susan Boyle's Got Talent are finally upon us. And, as if to distract us from the fact that everyone's favourite drab Scottish warbler has it in the bag (yes, she's even more popular than Leon Jackson now), it's a hilariously glitzy over-the-top affair, even opening with the judges entering the arena on a giant hydraulic lift, reinforced to cope with Piers Morgan's enormous weight.

 

Ant and Dec are of course on hand with consistent reminders that "the whole world is watching" and spurious claims that what we're witnessing is "the best talent on the planet."

 

This is somewhat worrying for the planet as a whole given that, of the 40 semi-finalists, we've already seen a geek in a Darth Vader costume dancing (badly) to Michael Jackson songs, and a troll whose act consisted mostly of cutting through a cucumber with a chainsaw. Variety, it's fair to say, has well and truly left the building.

 

Of course, it's not all bad. But it is all a far cry from "amazing", "fantastic", "incredible", "world class" and all the other clichéd hyperbole that judges Cowell, Holden and Morgan have indiscriminately thrown at it over the past few days. Dance troupes Diversity and Flawless are actually – gasp – pretty entertaining to watch.

 

In fact, even an old curmudgeon like me might – on a good day – describe Diversity's bizarre yet mesmerising kid-hurling routine as, well, "spectacular".

 

 

Flawless Entertainment

 

Flawless, though slightly less innovative, nevertheless succeeded in turning in an, erm, flawless performance in their semi-final. They won a well-deserved place in this Saturday's final alongside rivals Diversity, and singers Susan Boyle and Shaun Smith. The latter's constipated act would probably be just about acceptable in a karaoke bar in Faliraki, but not on national television in front of millions of viewers eager to be entertained.

So far, so predictable: a variety competition where the finalists are to date comprised entirely of singers and dancers. It's got Cowell's smug fingerprints all over it. Indeed, as Amanda Holden and Piers Morgan have both already stated: Simon Cowell wouldn't know variety if it slapped him in the face with a wet kipper. Therefore, the chances of seeing a ventriloquist, a juggler, or a drag act in the final are about as likely as crooked MPs paying back money claimed for 'pond accessories' and additional toilet seats.

 

So spare a thought for poor Gareth Oliver – H from Steps dipped in a bucket of Ronseal – whose ventriloquism act was exceptional, but who never stood a chance under Cowell's bean-counting glare. And Peter Coghlan – a fat drag act in a ginger wig – who, to be fair, was pretty bloody awful but had already been written off by Cowell, calling drag acts "the lowest form of entertainment." And here was me thinking that Alexandra Burke was the lowest form of entertainment.

 

Still, it's all academic really. Yes, Simon Cowell really could have avoided making Natalie Okri (officially the cutest 10-year-old in Britain) cry by choosing Diversity over her, because none of it really matters with Susan Boyle in the competition. The world has taken Boyle to its bosom and, for the next few months at least, she's going to be massive. Still, hope springs eternal, and my money remains firmly on Stavros Flatley. No, really.

 

Child's Play

 

Week nine of The Apprentice and cocky Ben 'making money is better than sex' Clarke is "feeling very confident" and braying that "it's just a matter of taking two or three more people out of the competition." Oh, how I laughed as his little cartoon face fell 50 minutes later when Sir Alan gave him his marching orders.

 

This week's task was to flog products at The Baby Show in London's Earls Court. Each team had to select two products to sell to smug new or expecting parents. Cue dolt James climbing into a birthing pool in his suit and moaning like he's about to drop a sprog, while the product's inventor stands stage left, eagerly clutching her pubic bone, in one of the most frightening sequences I've seen on TV all year.

 

Elsewhere, creepy Lorraine proved her worth by failing to operate an easy-collapse push-chair properly. Still, this is a woman who probably has trouble tying her own shoelaces. But at least push-chairs sell. Every young family needs a push-chair, right? It was another product entirely that caused all the problems for James's team: a plush, hand-carved rocking horse with prices starting at £1,700. Just the kind of thing new parents can afford to impulse buy during a recession.

As soon as Ben and Debra arrived with their tiny, tiny mouths, to be greeted at the horse-making studio by a middle-aged mahogany gentleman rocking gently back and forth on one of his own creations, you just knew they were going to go for it. Ben's little eyes visibly lit up as he mounted the beast (no, not Debra), and it was all downhill from there.

 

James's birthing pool did a decent trade despite his best efforts to make potential punters feel a bit queasy ("It's like the lid's open so the baby can jump out") but it was no match for Lorraine's push-chair and baby hard hat (yes, really). Precisely zero rocking horses were sold. What followed in the boardroom was nothing short of hilarious.

 

"There's absolutely no way in hell I'm going home today," bleated Ben, "I'm going to the final and straight into AMS 1." Or, indeed straight into a cab home when, after ganging up with Debra – the true villain of the piece – he was unceremoniously fired.

 

But not before claiming that the whole thing had been James's fault. Yes, James wets the bed and no, he's not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but the failure of this task was down to Ben and Debra's rocking horse fetish alone. And so, the hateful 'winner of a Sandhurst scholarship' has left the building. And rightly so, though the show will be far less entertaining without its resident village idiot.

 

Quotes Of The Week

 

"My tail is wagging." - Amanda Holden confirms what we'd suspected all along: she's a dog.

 

"I would always sacrifice friendship for success." - Tip number one from the Simon Cowell school of business success.

 

"Anyone prepared to die on this show gets 10 out of 10 from me." And tip number two.

 

"The reality is… you're disgusting." - Piers Morgan presumably practises his lines in front of a mirror before going on stage.

 

"I can think of two very good reasons why you should go through." - Cowell drags out his favourite tired old one-liner for a talentless girl with superb breasts.

 

"I say Britain, you say Talent!" - DJ Talent: doesn't do what it says on the tin.

Bak On TV

Read more of Stuart Bak's TV reviews in our Couch Potato archive. Do you agree with Stu's opinions? Disagree? Drop him a line on bakontv@hotmail.co.uk