The Ex - Factor?

The X-factor is probably the most successful TV show on at the moment. But have we not seen all of this before? Each week we tune in to hear someone who ‘used to be a bad boy’, works at a biscuit factory, or is simply overweight tenaciously grip onto their 15 seconds of fame. Each week we remind ourselves that it’s not time to face the music, but rather the lack of it. Now, the auditions are finished which means most of the psychopaths are gone. And what are we left with?

This year the Beiber cut, Take That pose and Gaga mentality get you far. Once again, Mr Frankie I-Need-A-Hair-Cut Cocozza went through, despite James Michael’s obvious and superior talent. It was clear Gary’s song choice disadvantaged James’ performance, but even if it didn't showing your ass on TV can get you further than you think. The mentally unstable Kitty is also through. Just because we all love to watch a good breakdown.

It was a long night of performance and if there was anything we learnt it was that a. the new judges cannot pick songs and b. people need to STOP RAPPING! We also saw some scripted judge-hissy-fits and Gary’s dislike of every-other-act-who-is-not-on-his-team. And then there were the boy bands.

Nu Vibe, as Kelly Rowland would suggest PUT IT DOWN tonight, whatever that means, but where they really hit the spot was the last moment of their terrible performance when two of the boys showed their abs. Surely, there must have been some true reason behind this, they were asked – “It’s for the ladies innit?” was the response. As epic as that is, I was not surprised to see the band go through this week. The viewer’s needs are simple – ass or abs – you chose!

We heard the overly dramatic “best opportunity of my life” and “best moment of my life” yet again, and it truly makes one wonder how utterly miserable the lives of these people must be if a minute and a half on national television is the best moment of their life. If I ever find that to apply to me then I’d rather be doubting my existence than hoping to sing an 80s classic in front of a pink car, dressed in newspaper as dancers on canteen tables jump about me.

Then, of course, there were the “this is the first time I’ll ever be on stage singing to the nation”. Yes, at the lives final, this will be the first time, if we exclude all those other times when you sang in front of the nations, like in the auditions, boot camp, judges’ houses and that karaoke at your local pub ...

So tonight we said our goodbyes with (are names really needed?) the soldier from Afghanistan, two Essex girls, James Michael and some other young lady who I don’t believe I’ve bothered watching before. We also saw Matt Cradle for the first time since he won, just to remind us all of the X-Factor’s failure. Truly, was this the most motivational performance you could provide for these new acts? Though, I guess it could be worse. It could be Joe. I know what you're thinking - who's Joe?

I cannot believe that I’ve spent 3 hours of my life watching X-factor this weekend, but it seems the thrill of judging fame-crazed-teary-eyed-teenagers has now dissolved into the predictability, over-dramatization and just plain old dullness of fame-crazed-teary-eyed-teenagers. And while we’re on that – I hope Marcus wins.

P.s. Just to note how prophetic I am indeed - today's Guardian article seems to have plagiarized my otherwise excellent pun.

Mirela Ivanova