Well the festive season is well and truly upon us. What comes to your mind when you think of Christmas? Father Christmas? Coca-cola? Jesus? Well no Christmas wouldn’t quite be Christmas if it wasn’t for a bit of pantomime!
And this year has been no different, the BBC and ITV have been dishing out their annual pantos starting months ago. I talk of course of Strictly Come Dancing and the X-Factor! Strictly has pulled out some big names this year, Kara Tointon… nope, Michelle Williams… of girl band fame, and of course Scott Maslen… wasn’t he in The Bill once? Audiences spent the first couple of weeks remembering who Paul Daniels was, and once they did he was swiftly voted out. Okay, so the biggest star was Jimi Mystry, by default, but the biggest personality of Strictly this year was of course Anne Widdecombe.
Now, looking at Anne you wouldn’t really think she was built to be a dancer. And you’d be right. Her partner, the more than creepy Anton du Beke, spent most weeks snapping his back in half and dragging her around the dance floor until the public took sheer pity on him and voted them off. Expect him on an accident at work ad soon enough. Poor lad.
Eight eliminations she escaped. Eight! Is this show even about dancing? Well, obviously it’s not, since John Sergeant managed to fumble his way through last year’s show until eventually quitting, the show has been deemed about ‘entertainment’ rather than dancing. Even head judge Len has declared the show to be about entertainment now, no longer are we hearing: “Darling! It’s a travesty Darling!” They still give low scores but I think the judges have realised that they’re as redundant as a spare button on a zip coat.
Ah the judges, that’s what it’s all about. Four bored know-it-alls sit behind a desk stolen from ITV News look blankly onwards as an out of work actor twirls around the dance floor with a professional dancer from High School Musical. Sounds good doesn’t it? 11 million viewers watch this stuff!
The judges are there for a reason though. They give people a reason to watch, as once the dance is done the couple head over to Brucie who waves his chin at them and herds them to the judges for their weekly grilling. Judge number one is panto baddie Craig Revel-Horwood (boo-hiss) a man who could condescend Christ if he wanted to, sits right on the end and generally finds faults with everyone and has no qualms with ripping into the rubbish contestants. He is quite camp, knows his stuff, and likes to use the word ‘darling’ a lot. Generally what he says is right, but that doesn’t mean we have to like it!
Judge number two, is head judge Len Goodman, who’s spared the title of oldest man in the room thanks to Brucie. Len has the deciding vote and holds most of the authority. In previous seasons he’s been a bit like Craig in that he told the truth but nowadays he just grins at you like the gawping fish at the end of Mario Kart and says “thanks for playing.”
Next judge is Alicia Dixon, who replaced Arlene Phillips last season much to the bemusement of everyone except Arlene Phillips. I think Arlene fell out with the BBC producers and to embarrass her even further they threw in their answer to Cheryl Cole. Alicia plays the part of Widow Twanky, not the lead character but the one who just has very little to do except smile and say well done.
Last but not least is Bruno Tonioli, the most eccentric man on the BBC since Jimmy Savile. Bruno essentially plays the comic of the panto, he sits on the end and yells at the dancers exclaiming how hot they are “Scott-t!” Even if it wasn’t Scott dancing it’s “Scott-t!” that’s all he says. And God forbid if Bruce should get to him last, then he just acts like a sticky spring toy forbidden from jumping only to then be released as if by surprise, to which he ends up stood bow-legged on the desk yelling “It was magnificent! The best thing I’ve ever seen! I orgasmed twice! Marry me now! Exquisite! 10! 10! 10! 11!” The crowd obviously laughs it up while the evil Craig shakes his head condescendingly from the opposite side.
As for the dancing itself, it’s been alright. But what I have noticed this season more than others is that the dancers are using the judges' desk a lot more as a part of their routines. They’ll start by standing on the desk and waiting for the music to kick in and then leap off it. Sounds alright only the camera shot at the start gets to see four of the most awkward people sat looking up at the dancer. It’s just bizarre, I’m fairly sure Bruno farted one week just to relieve some of the tension as Len randomly chuckled for no apparent reason.
There are some decent dancers, but they could be better. Next year I want John Bishop on it! I went to see him live earlier this week and that man got moves! Get him on it and I might actually watch it!
All in all Strictly is a lovely family evening filled with favourites, bad guys, a cheering and jeering audience and Billy Connolly. Which is more than I can say for the other show sat across the road in the studios of ITV.
Yes, X-Factor, the newly crowned ‘most tired show on television’ since Big Brother finished earlier in the year. I can sum this show up in a word. Awful. No wait I can do better than that: Terrible. No that’s not good enough: atrocious. No that’s still not covering it: Harrowing. Yeah that’s a bit more like it, shouldn’t have really given myself a one word limit there, but I’d have been here all day if I didn’t.
I can’t stand X-Factor, I genuinely hate its existence. Especially the first few weeks where ITV literally round up people with serious mental health issues and throws them out on stage where they proceed to sing a crumbling rendition of Ronan Keating’s ’When You Say Nothing At All’, which is then followed by Simon Cowell and his motley crew calling them the worst thing they’ve ever seen (amazing how it keeps getting topped isn’t it?) and the audience laughs deliriously at them. They walk off in shame, crying, and are greeted by a smirking Dermot O’Leary who then takes a huge handful of salt and rubs it in their faces turns them round and boots them out onto the streets again. It is actually appalling. This is entertainment? Laughing at mental disorders on a Saturday night?
Well anyway, it bloody well finished last week, thank God, it’s the main benefit to Christmas falling on a Saturday this year. The winner was not Gamu, it was Matt Cardle, who I’ve only just now realised exists on this planet. He used to be a painter and decorator but now he’s the one being decorated by pretty much everyone in the UK media.
I’ll admit, I know nothing about the man, I only found the painter and decorator fact in the Metro where I read up on the amazing final that 20 million people watched. 20 million, that’s over 25% of the British population sat in front of a flashing box watching a bunch of nobodies crawl about on stage desperately clawing at the fabled 15 minutes of fame. I mean who was watching the other channels? Watch could’ve just shown hardcore porn and no one would have noticed!
To me, Matt looks a bit bland. Okay, he’s more memorable than last year’s winner (answers on a postcard), who incidentally entered the chart with his new single at number 68 on Sunday, but he seems to have the charisma of a moth-eaten cardigan. I don’t know, maybe I’m not being fair, I’ve only seen him sing once, and yes he can sing, but who cares? I’ve seen overweight middle-aged women being thrown around a dance floor dressed as a matador’s cape that have entertained me more than this guy!
Apparently Matt beat a girl called Rebecca and a band called ‘One Direction’, which is a brilliant name I have to say, I’m sure they’ll go on to great things. Anyway the cardigan won it and subsequently released his single: Biffy Clyro’s hit record ‘Many of Horror’. That’s when I thought: hang on a minute, according to an interview I read a few weeks ago Matt said he would only release new material, but what’s this? Looks to me like a cover version of an all round popular chart hit. So you lied to us Matt? How could you? Oh no wait, they changed the song title to “When we Collide.” Ah right well that’s alright then.
How gullible is this man? He seriously thinks he has his own life now, where he makes his own decisions. No, you are no property of Simon Cowell and you will go out there and you will sing and dance to the tune of whatever he sees fit until he gets bored of you and simply gets someone else from next year’s X-Factor! Idiot.
Matt was mentored by Dannii Minogue, the less famous of the two sisters, she’s the one who didn’t marry Jason Donovan on Neighbours. She’s one of the four judges and plays one of the more well liked ones. Cheryl Cole is the other female judge, who, to be honest is looking more and more thin by the day. I’m actually worried about her, has she forgotten how to eat or something? She looks like Olive Oil! If she turns to one side she bloody disappears! I’m not entirely sure why Cheryl is on the panel, given she’s an expert in pretty much nothing but she sits there anyway.
Either side of the lovely ladies is behemoth Cowell and Louis Walsh. Cowell, who is still looking more and more like a Pez dispenser by the day, is the meanie of the gang, Officer Dibble if you will. Louis Walsh, well, he’s just Bennie. Louis makes no sense to me when he talks, all I hear is the same thing. Maybe because it is the same thing! Every week he comes out and says to one of the performers “That was the best performance on X-Factor EVER!” If this show gets any better he’s going to end up having a heart attack! Every week it's: “Best performance ever! It’ll never be topped this!” Until the week after when he says: “Best performance ever! It’ll never be topped this!” Succeeded by the following week’s show where he says: “Best performance ever! It’ll never be topped this!” You get the idea.
The X-Factor judges are boring. They have no personality, except for Cowell, they have no talent, and none of them say ‘darling’! At least on Strictly they have a bit of a laugh, alright it’s all aimed at Brucie and Anne Widdecombe, but fair play to them, they all take it with a pinch of salt and they're all good sports. They obviously want to win the show, but if they don’t they don’t go and cry about it. X-Factor contestants treat the show as if it’s the biggest thing that will ever happen to them. I walked into a KFC once, as crap as it was, it was still a better experience than being on the X-Factor. Get over it you bunch of ungrateful idiots. “I’m doing this for my pet goldfish who died when I was only twelve.” Oh Boo-hoo, why don’t you get a job! I’m sure Blooper would be chuffed with that more than this abomination!
Of course X-Factor, like Strictly, is just a panto in disguise. From the tacky set to the stereotypical panto characters sat behind the desks. It’s just cheap, crappy, pointless, soul destroying television. You can actually feel your self respect dripping from your ears whilst watching it, and if you close your eyes you can see your high school form tutor shaking her head disapprovingly at you.
Strictly is okay, good casual viewing, a bit of a laugh and not treated too seriously. X-Factor is rubbish, and you can say “Oh no it isn’t” all you like, it won’t change my mind, because it bloody well is.
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