Is it just me or isn’t it great that Any Dream Will Do, which at long last found the star of the new Joseph production last night, is finally over? It seems to have been running for ever, slowly working it’s way round to selecting the guy Lee who is already a professional understudy. So the brickie et al fail to make it. Big surprise there then.
I have to say I’ve not watched many of the many episodes closely but it has been compulsory viewing for my daughter and wife so it’s been there in the background mincing away in the corner of the tv room. What a bloody camp-fest it’s been. Firstly it’s hosted by Grahan Norton in his lurid suits. I actually like his humour to be honest but let loose amongst all these pretty wannabee boys, it’s been a bit like watching Larry Grayson on heat and on speed. The lads themselves have been an interesting mix of the quite talented; then the eager dancers but not very good singers and the reverse version, and then there was Seamus. At 5′ 2” tall, but appearing taller because of his Kevin Keagan perm, you’d have thought someone might have told him his lack of height would never allow him to win the starring role. But he was in and what a drama queen he turned out to be. A singing trainer by profession he was not prepared to listen to advice from others about what was needed. He knew it all already and let everyone know it. He was described as the loner amongst the crew. Yeh ‘cos everyone thought him to be a prick. When he got voted off the show there was not a tear in the house, for a change. Asked by Graham why he thought he’d lost the public vote he put it down to a conspiracy theory. Ah right, like the powers that be were out to get him as with JFK or Diana perhaps. What a little wart.
Whenever anyone else got voted off or had a tough time in the singing lessons we had tears. Lots of tears on this show. Not all of them were mine. Some of these lads would cry if you told them tomorrow is Monday. Perhaps the biggest weapie was Lewis who made the final last night but got booted out first. He was a David Beckham lookie likey (4 points), though his eyes were a bit closer together but he did have almost as dazzling an array of hairstyles as the great DB himself. Boy did this lad like styling mousse. Given that he hails from Middlesbrough which is the grittiest town in the western world, where on earth did he learn to do his hair like that? Anyway we saw a highlights section of his ‘moments’ and they were all tearful. He’s probably still crying this morning.
The guy who came second was this lad who’d just done his 11-plus. He looked a bit like he had his dad’s dentures in and he too used a lot of styling mousse but he had crap hair really so it was only one look that we had from Keith the Teeth. He also had a strong Scottish accent and you kind of thought that was not right for the role of Joseph, who is supposed to be the son of Zebadiah or Isaac or Lot. Whoever it is he ain’t Scottish.
Then there were the expert panellists. Denise van Outen, eye candy for the blokes I suppose but as Essex girls go, she’s more Dagenham than Chingford and just talked about how larvely the guys looked. Hmm. There was impressario and football club Chairman Bill Kenwright who always seems a little too self-satisfied to me. He has this smug little smile and often wears sunglasses with blue-tinted little round John Lennon lenses. That style went out with The Monkees Bill, move on son. He should have talked sense but rarely did. There was some woman with too much make-up who was always negative and some guy out of Dr Who or something who was very enthusiastic but kept pointing to the guys shouting ‘You’re GGGREAT!’ like Tony the Tiger. Think he might have been talent-spotting for Later Ron Entertainment.
Finally there was the great man himself Lord Andrew Lloyd-Webber whose stripey shirts would embarrass Noel Edmonds. He’s got this big-lipped rubbery face that just can’t help but give away his true emotions. Every time the boys hit a bum note they’d cut to Webby who’s face looked like he’d just stepped in some dog crap. He spoke terribly enthusiastically about everybody, even the obvious losers. But he did seem to enjoy himself – or maybe it was more like the the huge publicity for his show that made him look so happy. Now, he’s been married to some stunning women. Can you tell me what the appeal is please ladies, apart from the fortune, because, like George W Bush, I reckon that he’d know his way round Camp David.
So there we have it – a show that had no appeal to me whatsoever and yet I’ve spent the last hour writing about it. The one thing that I did like about ADWD was that at the end of each show, the losing guy had to sing the big dramatic song (is it Close Every Door?) where the remaining guys disrobe the loser of his coat of many colours. It was always the point at which the loser sang at his best, ironically. Except Seamus who had to change the last line from securing a ‘coat of my own’ to a ‘show of my own’. Oooh maybe Seamus; but only as one of Les Miserables.