Talent Shows and Talentless Show Offs

Dear Mum,


With this Saturday witnessing the launch of two rival TV shows, I’ve chosen to dedicate this blog to the sheer beauty and total absurdity of such televised programmes. More specifically, this blog is inspired by ‘real life’ programmes exploiting the ‘ordinary man,’ most commonly seen in talent shows and reality TV.

In one camp; The Voice, Britain’s Got Talent, The Apprentice.

In the other; Geordie Shore, Made in Chelsea.

When it comes to intellectually deficient but jolly entertaining programmes... well, it’s a damn good show. These two camps have a surprising amount in common, despite falling into two TV genres.

Indeed, there are five elements critical to making entertainment and reality television enjoyable:

1)      Tense music. Usually requires a strong beat or, if more emotionally fraught, a tinkling piano. Might be complimented with dimmed lighting. Crucially includes a long pause before tension is relieved by an individual breaking the silence. Seen on most TV competitions, such as StrictlyCome Dancing and X Factor. Usually associated with Point 2.

2)     Long loaded looks. As in Point 1, Point 2 offers another form of tension and is usually frequented in pre-recorded TV shows. Eyes often pleading. A burrowed brow and glistening forehead not uncommon (as in Britain’s Got Talent). These sideways looks often provide viewers with a subtext (as in Made in Chelsea). For example, Deal or No Deal. Long loaded looks include when lid lifters watch anxiously and helplessly as Noel negotiates with The Banker (who is most probably his wife reminding him she’s defrosting some chicken). In Made in Chelsea, on the other hand, long loaded looks go hand-in-hand with pouting lips and wistful glances, indicating its characters are trying to remember whether or not they slept together... Oh yep, they have...

3)     A sob story. Vital in talent competitions. Alternatively, can be a nod to a higher cause e.g. “I was born to dance.” Often joined by emotive music of the Westlife calibre.

4)     A mean judge/tough judge not easy to please. Take Simon Cowell, Craig Revel Horwood, The Banker (aka Noel’s wife). Someone whose respect is hard earned and hair style is questionable.

5)     An underdog. We need someone who is entertaining, likeable but not the next Gene Kelly. Someone utterly human and accessible to the masses. Russell Grant. SuBo. Stavros Flatley. Pretty much the whole cast of The Only Way is Essex.

Combine these elements and BOOM! That’s Saturday night telly sorted.

I neither object to nor revel in these TV programmes. As a rule, anything with Simon Cowell in makes me want to throw the remote at the screen, though Britain’s Got Talent is a not-so-guilty pleasure of mine, as I do think some of its contestants are genuinely gifted (and some are clinically insane).

The Voice was a wonderfully refreshing change; first for it being based purely on talent; second for its judges being genuinely talented; and third for the judges all appearing to be nice, kind, and supportive individuals.

(Since Saturday night I have found myself with a crush on Will.i.am, and have fantasised about Jessie J and I painting one another’s nails).

The Apprentice is whole different kettle of fishy entrepreneurs. Unlike Simon Cowell and his contestants, Sir Alan has every right to lay into the arse-kissing subordinates because they are head-in-hands embarrassingly arrogant.

And because they are cretins.

‘This is a bus.’

This is a door. You’ll remember it when you pass through it to your taxi home.

As for the likes of Made in Chelsea and Gerodie Shore... Shameful!! I’m embarrassed to be in my 20’s. At least The Only Way is Essex has an irony to it.

With the introduction of The Voice, I’m hoping there’ll be more original, entertaining reality TV shows introduced. Such as my idea: “Made in The Apprentice? Or ‘No Deal’ as You’ve Got No Talent.”

This show sees the Made in Chelsea cast stand before Sir Alan, Simon Cowell and the big shouldered lass from Dragon’s Den, where they must present a business plan via a song or dance or both (it’s their choice of medium). If the judges like it, the Made in Chelsea ignoramus opens a box to discover what figure of money is inside, which concludes the board of judges’ total investment in their business plan (Nick and Karen having faithfully ferreted away the high figure boxes before ensuring there aren’t enough chairs for all the contestants to sit on in the boardroom.)

It’s fool proof.