Review: The X Factor – November 18th

 
 

Whenever it is revealed that two people have received the least amount of votes and they are to face each other in the sing off, everyone always looks around in shock. This happens from night one of the live shows and continues until the end every year.

For one, you would think that since it is none of the judges first times in the role of “wear a nice outfit and talk about harmonies a lot”, none of them would be shocked by the format of the show. The X Factor is a publicly voted competition, in which two people will inevitably be in the bottom two each week. I don’t see why this calls for horrified gasps and condescending head shakes every blooming time. Get over it, it is a competition. There is only one winner, and millions of losers, mainly the viewers.

The theme for the Saturday show this week was Guilty Pleasures, or guilty of ruining mediocre songs, or guilty of giving you no pleasure what so ever… I could go on. Louis Walsh’s favourite saying of the night was “You hit all the notes” as though he was a human Sing-Star and was awarding points accordingly. Christopher Maloney sung as though the power of his voice could sink the cruise ship he will one day perform on.

If you haven’t seen Christopher, don’t bother googling him. If you want to know what he looks like just grab an orange, draw a large mouthed face on to it and place it on the top of a big double breasted wool coat. You now have your own personal Christopher to use as a punching bag whenever angry, upset or frustrated; emotions most sane people will be feeling when he eventually wins the show, which is definitely going to happen. The all-powerful grannies seem to have taken over the voting and they will not stop until this Nan-loving, tan-wearing, power ballad crooner wins a record deal, that will of course be snatched away the minute the first album of duets with Mary Byrne and Susan Boyle hits the bottom of the shelves.

If there are any X Factor haters out there, sorry that is a stupid question, let me rephrase it: To all the millions of X Factor haters out there, the best way to ensure that the show never returns is to pick up your phones and vote for Christopher Maloney. If you don’t believe me, just Google Steve Brookstein.

Listen, I don’t want to embarrass myself by seeming like I care but I am just going to put it out there, James Arthur is the only one who has any chance of an actual successful album after the show, and that usually doesn’t involve winning. In fact, the majority of ‘popstars’ that make it in the big bad Syco-owned world generally don’t win, for example Misha B who was in the bottom two numerous times is now an established artist, Olly Murs or One Direction who were beaten to the top by Matt Cardle, who since then has dropped off the face of the planet. The face of the planet literally being Simon Cowell’s smirking mug.

So I was actually happy when James Arthur was named as one of the bottom two, along with very talented but incredibly boring Ella, to a shell-shocked crowd who obviously thought Dermot was going to just keep reading names until everyone got through and we could just sit around eating biscuits as we watched more clips of the contestants dancing around Disneyland Paris wearing Mickey Mouse ears and Shirley Temple smiles.

Alas, this was not to be because if this wasn’t a competition it would have to go on forever and ever and I would be fearful this would lead to mass suicide or a sharp increase of viewers gauging out their eyes screaming “No, it’s not Rylan time, please don’t let it be Rylan time again!”

After the judges brought the votes to deadlock, in another example of how unimportant their highly paid jobs are, Ella was sent home and James got to join the strange mix of dreary contestants left to unfortunately sing another day. Next week they get to sing two songs each, which will be a joy for anyone not watching.

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