The Courier & Advertiser (Fife Edition)
A chorus of boos for this game of groans
PITCH BATTLE Saturday, BBC One THE CRYSTAL MAZE Friday, Channel 4
Anew definition of TV hell has been found – when even Gareth Malone feels desperately compelled to defend a plainly embarrassing performance as “not embarrassing”.
Malone is one of the judges in Pitch Battle, a punishingly formulaic singing competition in which 30 amateur vocal harmony groups compete for a cash prize of £50,000. Given the size of most of these groups, that’s about a fiver between them.
The aforementioned performance, so toe-curling it made even Malone look askance, epitomised the fundamental conceptual flaws of this show.
A group of nice older women, sensibly clad in black evening gowns, unleashed a shrill version of I’m Too Sexy while their immediate rivals, a young gospel
group, responded with their take on TLC’s No Scrubs.
This mystifying display of vocal combat climaxed with the supposedly humorous spectacle of a woman resembling Margaret Mountford dropping her mic to the floor, diva style. How delightfully incongruous.
There, in a curdled nutshell, was the indefensible problem.
Not just with Pitch Battle, but that whole cosy, condescending, middleclass miasma of light-entertainment whimsy spearheaded by The Great British Bake Off (the host of Pitch Battle is, of course, Mel Giedroyc, a robotic mother hen who emits manufactured enthusiasm like the comfortable pro she is).
Shamelessly indebted to the success of Glee and the Pitch Perfect film franchise, the pitifully unoriginal Pitch Battle is so half-baked it barely has enough energy to sustain 10 minutes, let alone its interminable 90-minute running time.
Disingenuously marketed as an A Capella singing contest, it actually features groups performing to instrumental backing tracks.
The supposed tension and spontaneity of the “Riff Off” round – a concept stolen from Pitch Perfect – is fatally undermined by the blatantly rehearsed medleys which ensue from a “random” selection of themes.
It is, like all of these increasingly redundant post-Cowell talent shows, a facile celebration of bland competency; a dispiriting facsimile of the uplifting power of the human voice.
However, it did force me to access previously untapped reservoirs of sympathy for Malone’s fellow judge, Will Young.
The affable former pop idol looked understandably lost as he struggled to say something meaningful about the forgettable acts paraded before him.
Look into his tired eyes and his pleading message is poignantly clear: be careful what you wish for, pop kids. This is the fate that awaits you.
A fondly-remembered ‘90s sensation, adventure game show The Crystal Maze has returned under the auspices of new host Richard Ayoade.
Wisely, the format hasn’t been tinkered with (if it ain’t broke etc).
Ayoade’s trademark shtick of detached irony and semi-benign sarcasm is a natural fit. It should, in theory, work a treat.
Unfortunately, this revival kicked off with a minor celebrity edition in which they struggled to solve the most rudimentary puzzles (it was for charity, but still).
Quick-witted Ayoade’s increasingly exasperated, apologetic asides to the audience could barely disguise his genuine disdain for this edition’s lack of entertainment value.
Hopefully, when actual members of the public get involved, the show will regain its lustre.
Or will they, in this post-reality TV age, be a bunch of attention-seeking idiots?
If so, Ayoade’s inevitable despair should at least prove amusing.