Britain's Got Talent - Review

Saturday 13th April

Saturday night marked the start of the seventh series of Britain’s Got Talent. Seven years is a long time – I’m not sure I can remember a time before BGT. Where did all these eccentrics go? What did Amanda Holden do? Are there even any talented individuals left? It’s best not to think about it. BGT is specially designed bombastic Saturday night fare, and it’s unlikely The Voice or anyone else can do anything about it.

Though a sleek and glitzy Cowell product, a few years back BGT was drifting into irrelevance, and a recent regeneration of the judging panel that introduced David Walliams and Alesha Dixon has given the show a new lease of life. Walliams is undoubtedly the star, bringing warm-hearted anarchy to the proceedings and, along with national treasures Ant and Dec, counteracting the arrogance of Cowell. Arriving to the menacing strains of Star Wars music, Cowell has become so nonchalant with his ownership of the television crown that he was often eating whilst casually throwing out comments to star-struck contestants. Make no mistake, we are dealing with the Dark Lord of entertainment here, and it is only the combined cheekiness of Walliams and the Geordie duo that deflate his self-importance.

The selection of contestants is as predictably and gloriously bizarre as ever. Clearly we need to acknowledge at the outset that nothing is going to top last year’s winner; it’s common knowledge that you literally can’t get better than a dancing dog, but there are still some humans keen to try. The best acts (ie the contestants that could claim to fulfil the basic remit of talent) were a sneak attack gospel choir, a genuinely funny young comedian, a couple of singers, and a troupe of shadow dancers, if that is even a thing. The audition stages flourish, however, because of the reliability of the Great British public to look at the word “talent” and well and truly believe that dancing with a mop qualifies. The highlight was a man who came on stage, crouched down and barked like a dog. After a couple of barks, he got to his feet and said apologetically: “That’s all I’ve got.” God bless him.

Obviously, the standard caveats apply to this sort of show – it is formulaic, painfully noticeably scripted, and deploys music at strategic moments to tell you how to feel. The baying audience can get uncomfortably Roman-amphitheatre-esque when an act displeases them, and it is one of those shows that annoyingly tries to start a conversation with you by suggesting hashtags. However, the inclusion of David Walliams, the only man with the gall to get away with wrestling Cowell on stage to participate in a dance act, means that BGT is the most palatable of the Cowell stable of shows. If you don’t like it now, you never will, but as The X Factor looks ever more unappealing, against all odds a show that lets a dancing dog rise to the top of the showbiz pile remains a solid Saturday night choice.

Mrs Biggs

5th September 2012

After growing up near the site of the Great Train Robbery and completing a school project on the incident at the age of 5 (though the fact that I referred throughout to “Rony Biggs” somewhat ruined the integrity of said project), I was pretty confident I knew all there was to know about the infamous crime. Mrs Biggs, ITV’s new five part drama, offered a welcome fresh perspective on the robbery, both for the general public and experts on “Rony” and his gang like myself.

By focusing on Ronnie and Charmian’s relationship, the opening episode of the series felt less like a retelling of a historic crime and more like an original and interesting drama. It is a testament to the quality of the programme that it never felt like we were impatiently waiting for the Robbery to happen, rather it was enjoyable simply watching the couple’s relationship develop.

This was down in no small part to a stellar cast, headed by superb performances from a charismatic Daniel Mays and an outstanding Sheridan Smith, practically unrecognisable as the straitlaced Charmian who is tempted over to the criminal life by the man she loves. Their contrasting worlds were swiftly and deftly established, and their romance felt believable. Though the shadow of the future crime hung heavily over the audience this was not at the expense of a well told love story – the moment when Biggs decides to turn himself in to the police sniffer dogs rather than risk Charmian freezing as they hid in a stream was wonderfully played.

Having the attention span of a goldfish, I was worried that at one and a half hours the episode would feel rather over long, in fact it was anything but. The robbery hadn’t even taken place by the end of the episode, and yet the pace never felt slow. I completely invested in Ronnie and Charmian’s marriage, so that by the time Biggs’s conspirator Bruce turns up, tempting him like a devil (albeit with large spectacles) on his shoulder, I appreciated the painful inevitability of what was going to happen to the domestic life of the Biggs all the more.

The cinematography throughout the episode was beautiful and atmospheric, building to a crescendo with the robbery at the end, moving swiftly through the details of the run up to the crime as it is a path that has been trodden many times before. This, after all, is the story of Mrs Biggs.

The drama brilliantly told the story of the people behind the Great Train Robbery. If nothing else it is arguably worth watching for Sheridan Smith’s effortless performance alone, but all round Mrs Biggs is a top quality drama of the sort that is usually all too rare on ITV.