Reality TV? You must be joking.

This weekend I decided to hop on a bus headed for Inverness to visit my parents and my sister. With most of my friends working their bar jobs on Saturday night I stayed in to save some money and spend some quality time with the family.

Unfortunately this meant that I was subjected to the plight of Saturday night TV in the form of two and a half hours of Strictly Come Dancing followed by the X Factor.

How do you really feel about getting the over 25s Louis?

As I sat and watched the, ahem, ‘celebrities’ dancing either the salsa or the Foxtrot I began to question the classification of the program being a reality show. In what messed up reality do people class the demented flailing of ex tennis aces and plodding of ex politicians as dancing?

Well at least the expert panel of judges will tell it like it is.Wait. What is the rapping one from Mystique doing at the judges desk? “Oh she won the competition a couple of years ago” my Mum tells me. Ahhh  she MUST know what she is talking about…

And how I just adore the party line of “I’m here for the experience. Ballroom dancing is something ive always wanted to try.” Oh is that so former super heavyweight champion Audley Harrison?

Come on guys, when Zoe Ball asks you the question “Why are you here?” just tell the truth and shout MONEY through your tears of desperation and shame as flashbacks of your dead career mock your sweating, bloated, sequin covered body.

The biggest lie strictly tries to sell us is that Bruce Forsythe is alive and that there isn’t a team of 8 Jim Henson master puppeteers up in the rigging making his corpse twitch across our television screens like an extra for Thriller.

Another fantastic example of twitching puppets are the judges on the X Factor. Now the audition stages are over and there are no more escaped mental patients for us to point and laugh at (Louis group aside) the real competition begins.

I don’t have anything against any of the contestants on the show but I do start to dislike them when take a song that I quite like and carve it up like a blindfolded apprentice butcher. Enter Misha B.

Now don’t get me wrong, Miss B does have a really good voice. And I can understand she is trying to express her personality through what she wears (this week she is expressing her love of origami?) but her ‘urban’ take on Adele’s ‘Rolling in the Deep’ I did not understand.

I love the original. The earthy acoustic guitar, the gritty drum track and the echoing backing vocals are all fantastic. None of these made an appearance on the X Factor. 

The guitar was replaced with synths, the drums replace by the ‘ra tata ta’ from Rhiannas ‘Rude Boy’ and the backing vocals replaced by a rap that starts with the words “Wiki, wiki, wiki”. 

 Punctuating the performances we have the judges feedback. Who doesn’t love a bit of scripted arguments. Lois bouncing up and down in his seat like a Terrier on speed, Kelly getting her ghetto on as she shoots down everything Tulisa says for no apparent reason and Mr Charisma on the end droning on about…who actually cares?

 Thank God my Mum and Dad have Sky so I can watch some non scripted, free-flowing reality TV. WWE Smackdown Sunday.

 

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2 Responses

  1. “shout MONEY through your tears of desperation and shame as flashbacks of your dead career mock your sweating, bloated, sequin covered body.”

    Nice

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