With each passing week, this author's will to live recedes further. Thanks to last week, we're denied of one of the few things that made the show worthwhile, the comedy stylings and infinite mockability of Aiden.
LAST WEEK
THE COMEPTITION WAS ELECTRIC
AND I'M NOT JUST TALKING ABOUT THE FEW THOUSAND VOLTS SHOT UP AIDEN'S ARSE TO MAKE IT LOOK LIKE HE WAS SMILING
Okay, sorry, I had to get one last dig in there.
"There's no messing around - there's no second chances", Chezza mumbles, somehow managing to keep a straight face considering that last week undisputably confirmed that Weasels have more lives than cats.
It's the X Factor Beatles night tonight. The Beatles were and are mere humans, not cats or weasels, which is unfortunate considering that they're probably going to be murdered at least half a dozen times tonight. The judges are introduced as "Four twisted people who love to shout" which is quite pathetic although at least Dermot didn't use a predictable "Fab Four" line, I suppose. Tonight Cheryl has come dressed in gold chain-mail armor or something - something like you'd imagine a heroine on a fantasy book cover or video game looking like when you can't help but look and think "How the hell is that armor supposed to protect her from anything?".
But first a video message from Macca, who looks more and more like a bizarre hybrid of Jigsaw and Roy Hodgson as time passes. He's "expecting great things" although if you look closely you can see the cyanide pills on the table behind him.
First up it's the boys (again) and over to Dannii, who introduces Matt. At least I assume that's what she's doing - it seems the audience are even more deafening than usual this week.
Matt is possibly the only male person in the country who is sad that Aiden left last week. He's also going to try something new tonight, although nobody points out that he's obviously going to have to try something new because there aren't any Beatles songs with hilariously girly vocals.
Here he is! He's apparently gone for a sexy look this week to try and get some of Aiden's cast-off votes. Unfortunately this 'sexy' look fails at the first hurdle and the vest he's wearing makes him look, well, more Rab C Nesbitt or Jack Duckworth than George Clooney or even just 'generic cute builder'. He's singing "Come Together" in what is possibly the most hilarious put-on voice of the live shows so far. Dannii has obviously told him to go out and show what a great big masculine man he is and he's taken it not so much a few steps to far as a few storeys too far. It's his worst performance by a mile.
Again it's hard to hear Louis over the crowd. "There was something missing from the performance tonight", he offers. Yeah, a shirt. Oh screw you Cowell, I called dibs on that gag. There's some waffling from Simon and Dannii about him being dragged to and from various places but it's all very uninteresting and predictably lacking in actual criticism for what was a horrid performance.
"You looked like you were REALLY enjoying yourself" Dermot says to him, clearly referencing the scantily-clad dancing girls. "I'd love to say I was in my element but..." Matt tails off in response. I think he might be trying to tell us he's gay.
After the break it's "The Pocket Rocket" Cher and "Five Small Buttplugs" One Direction. Lord, have mercy.
Bloody hell, even Cher's VT's are starting to look like music videos now, given the unnecessary time-lapse segment of her just being a normal girl in her room to show how normal a normal girl she is. "This week I've given Cher a song that I think the new generation need to hear". Oh no, she's going to do "Hey Jude" with a rap isn't she?
She's perched half-way up a spiral staircase that leads nowhere, which is actually quite a clever metaphor for her performance of "Imagine". If the staircase wobbled intermittently and occasionally spewed forth torrents of vomit and projected images of John Lennon's corpse spinning in the earth so quickly that by the end of the song it's actually drilled its way through to Australia then the metaphor would be even better. Yes, her performance goes nowhere which wouldn't be that much of an issue of it were in a pleasant place to begin with but it's so shaky I can't help but wonder if someone is underneath giving the staircase a few stealthy nudges at times.
From a starting position as one of the favourites she could be in trouble tomorrow. It was that bad.
"There was no rap and no choir", Walsh says, as if it were a bad thing, although his "Lazy performance" critique is more on the mark. Here's Cowell with the first "There have been a lot of stories about you..." monologue, now another bona fide addition to the X Factor drinking game. He also apparently met some little girls in rehearsals who look up to Cher as a role model. Society is doomed.
"How do you feel?" Dermot asks Cher. "Uhh I don't know", she replies awkwardly. Clearly she's trying to pick up some of Aiden's votes too.
Simon can't stop himself from bursting into laughter as he introduces One Direction as "Five talented boys". They went to watch the England match but unfortunately didn't die of shame as most of England's football fans did. I suppose week after week of being praised for their crap performances has caused them to develop some kind of immunity to shame. Rio Ferdinand in particular looked delighted to meet them (italics indicate sarcasm in this case). They also- OH NO THE IRISH ONE IS WEARING AN ENGLAND SHIRT STOP THE PRESS AND BRING BACK HANGING IMMEDIATELY (caps indicate sarcasm in this case).
Curly Spice is "personally a massive fan of The Beatles". What, even more of a fan than you are of your musical hero Kelly Clarkson? Cowell - "Can they shine this week? One hundred, billion percent". Note the absence of a "yes" or "no".
Anyway, they're all stood atop a platform, Bowl-Haired Spice sings a bit, Looks A Bit Like One of Diva Fever Spice shoots the camera a look of smug self-satisfaction, Awkward Asian Spice (who has assumed Aiden's mantle as 'the competition's most awkward person when a camera is focused on them' with aplomb) looks on awkwardly and ooohs and aaahs a bit, the backing track does a sterling job of the chorus and the judges universally prais- oh screw it you all know how this goes by now.
Rebecca and Mary after the break. Predictability is going to be a recurring theme for the next quarter of an hour or so, methinks.
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