Britain's Got ADD

Rare is it that I board the flight of popular fancy, but in the case of Britain’s Got Talent over the past couple of evenings I’ve had my passport stamped - in danger of sounding like a heather brandishing gypsy here - “for the sake of the children”.

Outside of my charge, my kids are exposed to all manner of questionable ‘entertainment’ - BGT being one such example. And just as stand-up comedy became the new rock n’roll and football became the new religion, Idol/Factor/Talent shows have morphed into latest swinish fever to polarise and galvanise public opinion. The next ‘new’. And if you don’t have an opinion or a favourite on these shows, you’re somehow regarded with the kind of suspicion/revile usually reserved for alleged kiddie-fiddlers.

What makes such lazy programming abhorrent to me is not the child labour ‘camp’ pressures that the moral majority will be frothing over with sexual fervour since poor little Hollie‘s near meltdown in the Semi‘s of BGT. Yes, absolutely, the parents of such talented little creatures should be stringently profiled as to their true motivation for sacrificing anything approaching a normal childhood for their offspring, for I’m sure that many have failed to do the math: prize money minus rehab + lifetime of parental resentment = one glummy Mummy and/or Daddy. But if the prodigy really does have a dream & a passion (and some talent) to perform - each to their own destiny.

I’d be more on-side if such shows were to see a true return to gladiatorial entertainment - i.e. the reinstalling of chucking Right Wing Christians (and Big Brother Contestants/WAGS etc.) - to actual lions. Please - just tell me where to sign…

But ‘Britain’s Got Faux Sincerity’ has already become a battery farm of the weird and the wonderful. Much like the Factor’s/Idol’s of past/present - it’s merely churning out future fayre in the perpetual cycle of I Was A Tentative Celebrity At Best, Please Remember Me parent shows.

Lately I’ve learnt to forgive the cynical pantomime judging that makes so-called ‘good TV’. The target demographic may on the whole be duller than a box of accountants put through a hot wash, so in a way I’m sure SCowell grifts a perverse pleasure from their adverse reactionary numptitude. Fair play.

I do question the validity of armchair ’judges’ that sit in every Saturday (or Monday through Saturday in some cases) night to watch lite-entertainment instead of frequenting the theatre or a real gig. That’s like having Right Wing Christians reviewing porn.

It irks me upon hearing the herded Great Idiot Public/studio audience, who bray and boo at the merest hint of constructive criticism. Left to these morons we’d have close to a million people jostling on stage at the Finals…

Then before Warhol’s sanctioned time is up, the celebrity Alzheimer’s kicks in. Joe & Josephine Public idly cast aside their hero(es) of choice as soon as a fresh batch of meat is paraded for their prime-time viewing pleasure, their fleeting favourite suddenly languishing in the career bargain bin of fickle feckwits. To paraphrase the words of Laureate Noel Gallgher; “please don’t put your life in the hands, of suburban Mum’s and Gran’s - they’ll piss it all away…”

Which, despite all my fear and loathing of such manipulative media - is a real shame.

For what I experienced from my TV these past two evenings wasn’t some tribal need to ‘vote for my favourite - or die!’ bully complex.

It wasn’t discovering some new Act that I’m likely to follow beyond the weekend.

It was to be introduced to a surprising and refreshing array of role models.

Here I saw the humble, the nerdy, the awkward - ordinary people with a passion and heart and just enough self belief to grasp at their dreams whilst others sit on their Domino‘s sponsored assess and revel in someone else‘s living life.

I witnessed people who lived and would clearly die (or die trying) for their family. Folk from all colours, creeds and across the spectrum of age, gelling and dancing/singing/gooning about in the face of what’s ‘cool’.

I hope that it inspires kids in desperate situations to realise there are alternatives to drugs, knife crime, superficial status etc. (Do seek out the superb documentary Favela Rising about Brazil’s inspirational Afro Reggae, which is a wonderful depiction of this).

I hope that it reminds people that our families are worth more than trophies and all the shiny prizes that the media would have us covet.

And I hope that those millions tuning in - were really and truly entertained.

For the most insightful piece of commentary that came out of the whole BGT Final was this:
SCowell remarking (of high-brow criticism of the likes of Stavros) how it should be about “how it makes you feel”.

It’s entertainment. It’s an art form (as tenuous as the form allows). It embraces that punk ethos that - you might not be qualified in the traditional sense - but no-one’s going to stop you but yourself. Battle lines have not been drawn. Settle down. Relax. Set aside your daily woes. Escape. Enjoy.

So whilst I despair at the easily led legions of such lazy programming, I have nothing but respect for those brave souls that suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous prejudice to follow their dream, brightening the lives of dullards & quitters in their brief wake.

It’s all end of the Pier stuff granted, but isn’t a harking back to the heyday of British Variety what BGT’s all about? Maybe it’s that eccentric, indefatigable spirit that once made us Great (invasion, exploitation and colonisation notwithstanding) and maybe recapturing and embracing that can drag us back out of these ‘noughties’ doldrums.

Wouldn’t it be nice therefore if BGT put it’s money where it’s arse is and looks into pumping some of the funds from phone-ins & cash cows like the national tour and ubiquitous cd releases - back into music halls and theatres in depressed sub-urban areas and struggling seaside resorts? The kind of no-hope communities that breed many of the hopefuls paraded for our BGT pleasure? It could provide a heckuva showcase for the plentiful unsung talent that these fair shores have to offer. All it takes is the cash and the brand. Better that surely than a soulless proliferation of Super Casinos and Bingo Halls?

Remember - it should be about how it “makes us feel”. Wouldn’t it be nice for Britain to feel Great again. And not just for Saturday.

Stay positve!
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