Did we like it?
Yes, but not for the songs which were uniformly anthems throatily and discordantly bellowed by hen party harridans spattered with vomit as one of their number throws their life away in a loveless marriage in a travesty of their optimistic teenage dreams these songs helped foster a delusional vision of.
What was good about it?
• In some ways, it was as revelatory as peering into another world. Scrutinising the audience, ostensibly of the same race as you, who gain pleasure from such pinnacles of artistic pessimism. The ultra-conformist songs were like manacles around the mind; tethering both ambition and innovation.
• Mrs Robinson by Simon And Garfunkel.
• Tess Daly’s opening smile that seemed to have been fixed in place a couple of weeks before by esteemed architects and left to set.
• The true horror of film songs being lucidly and painlessly exposed. It seems that songs as abysmal as Everything I Do (I Do It For You), Wind Beneath My Wings and Show Me Heaven have their otherwise minimal impact greatly exacerbated through association through a nauseatingly romantic drama.
• Tess Daly’s monumentally hilarious script. “Can’t Help Falling in Love was a massive hit in the 60s. And today we’re still addicted to love, which is why Love Actually was such a huge success.” Leaving aside her faux paus that implies the concept of ‘love’ only came into being when an entire generation of women were brainwashed by the first, and probably worst, manufactured pop star, to then suggest that Love Actually was a “success” because ‘we’ are “still addicted to love” ignores the grossly indulgent simpering production of Love Actually, inhabited largely by actors and actresses for whom eternal damnation would be to be stuck in a sludge formed from the liquefied remains of film extras that is keeping them just out of reach of an Oscar.
• And when Tess exclaimed: “Andrea Bocelli has performed for the Pope, the Queen and world presidents, and now he’s performed before you!” Don’t you feel proud that you’ve joined that elite club of religious intolerance, sickening over-privilege and contagious corruption?
What was bad about it?
• Take My Breath Away by Terri Nunn (who was a member of Berlin). And Tess helpfully informing us that she “had flown in especially from America” as though the feat were equivalent of her having crawled across the Sahara on her hands and knees.
• Robin Gibb singing More Than A Woman. But the worst feature was the conductor of the gratuitous credibility orchestra, who would often turn halfway to the audience while keeping up his pretence of jauntily bouncing as if to show he isn’t really a stuffy aficionado of classical music but gets just as much pleasure from pop, too.
• And Robin Gibb is looking awful these days. Aside from his pet wig, his crumpled, creased face looks like a cheap tablecloth that’s been shrunk in the wash and then stretched over the dining table in the vain hope nobody notices.
• Louise Redknapp being coughed back up through the lungs of oblivion to perform Stuck in the Middle With You.
• (I’ve Had) The Time of My Life reminding us why Dirty Dancing is the worst film in history (and why we hate brackets), and Love Is All Around reminding us why Four Weddings and a Funeral (except for the Rowan Atkinson bit) is the second worst film in history. And why people who refer to Four Weddings and a Funeral as ‘Four Weddings’ are, outside mass murderers, tyrants, MOR singers and those idiots who walk up and press the pedestrian crossing buttons even though you’ve been standing there for five minutes, least deserving of the gift of life.
• Girls Aloud.
• Louis Walsh.
• Cyndi Lauper’s Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. For just as political prisoners are condemned to an existence of slopping out and then gazing forlornly through the bars of their jail cell, so Cyndi Lauper is condemned to forever churn out Girls Just Wanna Have Fun (and True Colors) to vast swineherds of 45-year-old venture capitalists treating their mistresses to a classy night out and as his floozy enjoys the 80s ‘classic’ he contemplates a plot to murder his suspicious wife.