BGT’s become a big yawn
STABLE boy Norman Scott became a pretty unstable man on A Very English Scandal. Is it any wonder?
Liberal leader Jeremy Thorpe wanted him topped. He told his co-conspirators to “shoot the bugger stone dead” and dump his corpse in an abandoned tin mine.
True their clueless hitman cocked up, but would the Beeb have played the story for laughs if they weren’t broadly sympathetic to Thorpe’s “progressive” politics?
A homicidal Rhodes Boyson would’ve been presented as irrefutable proof of Tory evil.
The acting is first class. But the tone is off-kilter and facts are wrong. Scott didn’t call Caroline Thorpe, triggering the turmoil which led to her death. They’ve also missed one crucial aspect of Thorpe’s character – his meanness.
He didn’t get Scott his National Insurance card because he’d have had to pay for it. His tightness sparked the whole toxic debacle. PETER Kay’s final Car Share. Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt (Netflix). Magical clips on ITV’s Palladium show. Gareth Bale’s wonder goal. The stray stagehand caught on camera during Acrocadabra’s BGT routine. Beadle wind-ups on Top Of The Box. NADIA Sawalha was talking about learning to play cricket when she said: B. Sykes, of Sudbury, wins £35 for that howler. Keep ’em coming to the address at the top of the page. ODD isn’t it, humanity can orbit Pluto and eradicate diseases but we still can’t stem the misery on Coronation Street.
WAR on sugar update: Pooh Bear now has type 2 diabetes.
BRITAIN’S Got Talent has given us many joys – Paul Potts, Pudsey, that posh bird who pelted Simon Cowell with eggs.
But few made me cheer as much as Marty Putz, right, the klutz who soaked the judges and bombarded Cowell with bog rolls.
Yes, his routine stank but they had it coming. ITV claim a storm forced their first live episode off-air. I prefer to believe it was an act of God – that the Almighty was so revolted by this appalling charade that he put a stop to it.
Once brilliant, BGT has become a mess of sob stories, cute kids, sad saps and imported professionals.
There was more chance of seeing Amanda’s face move than of throat singer Olena Uutai ever making the final.
New Faces broke household name comedians. Cowell gave us naked Japanese “entertainer” Mr Uekusa sticking a hula hoop on his nipple.
Simon looked a state – unkempt, unshaven and decidedly unglamorous. He found his bite occasionally but persists in playing a dumb rube when it comes to magicians. “That was real right?” he asked Maddox Dixon. Yeah, like the Tooth Fairy.
The other judges just gush. They didn’t hear the precocious kid sing off-key or spot technical cock-ups. Alesha watched Matt Johnson nearly drown and said: “I Email me at: garry.bushell@ dailystar.co.uk or write c/o Daily Star Sunday,
10 Lower Thames Street, London
EC3R 6EN find you really funny.” Eh? They adored camp comic Robert White because his act was all about them.
White had some nice lines but needs to work on his gabbled delivery.
Lost Voice Guy was funny. “I’m not just in it for the parking space,” he quipped. But has his act got legs?
Micky P. Kerr was a breath of laidback air and I adored sassy madcap magician Mandy Muden who would thoroughly deserve to be tonight’s wild card.
There are still way too many singers and foreign pros. Oddly the overseas turns were all better in their auditions than the semi-finals.
A cynic might conclude ITV had told them we’ll give you prime time exposure, if you throw the live shows...
Only Friday’s show-closers the Giang Brothers got through. (Running order is key; Kerr is the only finalist who appeared in BGT’s first hour).
Maddest act was spaghetti-gobbling, opera-singing contortionist Sarah Llewellyn – a natural for Eurovision.
The best we didn’t see was comedy impressionist Jonathan Clark.
He stormed his audition but bizarrely never made the screen. A shame. He’s world class. Next year’s winner? Here’s hoping.
NAKED Uekusa covered his modesty with a cup and saucer...Blimey. Liam Neeson would need the whole tea service. And a picnic basket, allegedly. UTILISING Big Mo’s psychic powers, I’ve managed to channel the Soap Awards ITV should have brought us last night.
Worst head transplant: Michelle Fowler. Worst criminal mastermind: Aidan Maguire. Worst spin-off: Kat & Alfie: Redwater. Most tedious subplot: chess club.
Most drawn-out storyline: Pat Phelan, left. Most unlikely recovery: Pat Phelan. (Runners-up: Mick and Johnny Carter – both shot at point blank range).
Most laughable disaster: Abi and Lauren plummeting off a two-foot wide ledge.
Worst romance: Michelle and Preston. Biggest mystery: how Andy got a suntan in Phelan’s cellar. Most tiresome political bias: EastEnders. Most cowardly re-writing of history: Corrie’s sex gang story “based on Rochdale” with all white groomers. Biggest plonker: Ian Beale (33 years running).
ITV’s Soap Awards would be so much better if the actors came in character.
All those randy love rats and evil headcases eyeing each other up and slapping their rivals down...
We’d have Pat Phelan squaring up to Aidan Maguire, Lachlan White trying to top them both, Max Branning masterminding a crafty “business merger” with Carla Connor in the cloak room...
Maybe Phil Mitchell could knock up Tracy Barlow in a bid to produce the most toxic brat since Curly Simon. One recklessly pushing boundaries for our entertainment, the other’s an escapologist.
FOUR Men, 174 Babies was about sperm donors like white van man Clive who drove miles to, ahem, hand deliver the good stuff. Not so much Hermes as Spermes. What a business! Spills on wheels. Clive’s wife had no idea – he told her he was going to BNP meetings. Anyone else thinking The Boys From Brazil?
‘‘I’m not very good with balls – I’m surprised you’re letting me play with yours.’
TALENT show judges who can’t make decisions – that’s your job! Amanda Holden’s freakishly frozen face. Putz not making the BGT final – show us the votes! Doctor Who fans getting ripped off at Comic Con – £230 for a selfie and a mug? Exterminate.