A few years back Graham Norton signed a lucrative contract with the BBC, the kind ITV had already bestowed upon great thespians such as Ross Kemp and Robson Greene. Then it dawned on the Beeb that they didn't know what to do with Norton. His chat show shtick quickly became wearing and since then he's been plonked in front of us as the saviour of Saturday night TV. First off he presented "Can We Get A Ginger Maria" followed by "Joseph and The Amazing Gaping Anus".
They were bad enough in terms of quality but they got the ratings and more importantly, the phone votes. But nothing, fucking nothing, can compare to the utter cuntfest that is "The One And Only". Now, I'm no TV critic, but I know shit when I see it, smell it or stand in it.
Basically, they've scoured the country to find the best tribute singers the UK has to offer. Then in different heats we've had Battle of the Chers, Battle of the Kylies, Battle of the Sinatras. Selected by "superfans" the best of each of the artists are brought together every Saturday night to go through the usual routine of sing, vote, off you go. Last one standing. So far so bad.
What makes this programme so fucking bastard appalling though is that the tribute acts are so arse tearingly bad. At least in Stars in their Eyes they make a point of trying to make you look like a look a like. The stylists here don't give a fuck. Kylie looked like Samantha Fox, Lionel Richie is white and ginger with a 'fro bought from Partyland, Frank Sinatra looks like Reginald Perrin after a week trapped in a Greggs factory and Tom Jones had facial hair from the Groucho Marx school of boot polish and by the look on his face he was having his prostate checked by Frankenstein's monster wearing a lubed up boxing glove.
And they don't fucking well sound like them either.
It's so bad that they don't even bother with celebrity judges. Instead they wheel out voice coaches David and Carrie Grant. David and Carrie still live in the Fame Academy building as no one's had the heart to tell them that there won't be another series. They spend their days singing disco hits of the 70's to each other in between marathon bouts of tantric sex in front of the oversize Georgian windows.
Honestly, I'm not usually one to rant, but I breathed the same airspace as my TV whilst this programme was on so I feel I'm within my rights.
Graham, go and watch yourself in Father Ted then go and stand in front of the mirror.
Monday, 21 January 2008
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A rant I would have been proud to pen, M'lord.
ReplyDeleteI have not watched the said programme, but as it's on a main terrestrial channel, shown in prime time and features attempts to find "talent" - it must by its very nature - be utter GASH. Family viewing - not my bag.
The trouble with Norton, is that he cannot take his "outrageousness" to the next level or anywhere near his C4 days, since he works for the very safe BBC. If he came out (no pun) with anything as risqué as Julian Clary's "I've just been fisting Norman Lamont" quip, he'd be dropped quicker than a lubed turd at a “see how quickly you can drop a lubed turd” competition.