The X-Factor 2011: Week 8 - Results

It’s the results show! With special guests Olly Murs and Jessie J! Oh, we’re really scraping the barrel now, aren’t we? We’re zooming along this week. I barely have time to make sure that the scowl of horror I wear each week when watching this show is properly affixed, and we’re already on to Olly Murs and his musical performance. Oh, and the Muppets? The Muppets? Are they promoting their new film that isn’t being released in Europe until February 2012? Excellent timing, Disney. So Animal is on the drums (of course), Fozzie is on bass and a curious looking new muppet descends from the ceiling in some contraption and proceeds to dance about on-stage singing badly and... oh, it’s Olly Murs. What, you thought just because that joke was obvious I was going to avoid making it? This is actually the most bizarre thing ever. Perhaps they felt that the only way to make Olly interesting when his trousers aren’t so tight that they’re cutting off the circulation to his brain is to add an elaborate performance involving some of the world’s most beloved puppets. When Olly Murs looks back on his career (some time next year when he’s invariably dropped by SyCo) I really have no idea whether he’ll consider this a high point or a low point. Performance over, Olly chats with Dermot and then strokes Miss Piggy’s leg. The actual Miss Piggy. Not Jesy from Little Mix. Olly looks confused when Miss Piggy doesn’t react. I don’t think he realises that as she’s made out of felt she can’t actually feel it when he squeezes her thigh.

Before you can say mahnah mahnah (doo doo doo doo doo), we’re on to the interminable recap. Remember when Janet sang Mmbop last night? No, neither do I, because she didn’t sing it so much as sway about on-stage as the music played. We zip through the interminable recap at light-speed this week. Does this mean I can’t call it the interminable recap any more? And we’re straight on to Jessie J. Two performances and the interminable recap, with no adverts thus? Are the producers feeling okay? This is all very strange; normally the concept of an ad break is used as a punctuation mark between sentences on this show. As Jessie J sings her latest dirge, which is the song that Misha B sang a few weeks ago in the sing-off, I keep thinking that a light fitting is going to fall accidentally and injure her to prevent her taking up her place as a judge on the BBC’s forthcoming potential X-Factor rival, The Voice. Then I remember every single BBC Saturday evening reality show of the past 15 years and realise that ITV don’t need to do anything to sabotage the competition, the Beeb will manage that all by themselves. Jessie J is a screechy mess who spends the duration of this song beating every note in the song to death with all the other notes that hang around it. Dermot and Jessie chitchat and mentions several times how much the song means to her because she wrote it herself and she’s so credible and an artist and BUY HER ALBUM. 

Ah, an ad break. I feel much better now. Everything has been set right with the world. The reason for the ridiculous pace of tonight’s show becomes apparent as Dermot introduces a short film about the work of the charity benefitting from this year’s X-Factor Charity Single™. Yes, it’s that awkward moment when the X-Factor does something for a good cause and I can’t say anything cruel about it, because the charity they’ve chosen is one that helps dying children. Damn, that’s just completely bullet-proof. Unlike last year’s charity, which helped injured soldiers. The short film ends and without much fanfare we’re straight into the performance of Wishing on a Star. Oh look, there's Kitty. They actually let her back into the building? They’re never going to get rid of her. The only reason they got her out the last time was because she went for a drink with Lady Gaga, an object of fervent religious worship for Kitty. And the gays. I can’t tell which lineup The Risk are using for this autotuned, lip-synched mess, but I’m going to assume the band now consists of four random people who visited the ITV website, got a pop-up saying “Would you like to be in a mediocre boyband?” and clicked Yes in the hope that they’d end up replacing Irish Bieber in One Direction. Oh, speak of the talentless devil, there he is! Yes, just when you thought the stage couldn’t get any more packed, they wheel in JLS and One Dimension to sing the last 8 seconds of the song. Just keep telling yourself it’s for a good cause. Dermot excitedly announces that The Chancellor has decided to waive the VAT on the single so that all proceeds go to charity. Hooray for the Chancellor! Unfortunately, the VAT on the XFactor Charity Single would’ve saved several thousand public sector employees. Boo for the Chancellor!

O FORTUNA! It’s actual results time. The contestants swagger on-stage following a quick change of outfit from their charity single clothes to their potential elimination clothes. Kat Slater appears to be wearing something from Ann Summers. I didn’t realise they had a Junior Miss Slapper line. In no particular order, and padded out as much as Dermot possibly can, because he’s only got three names to call out are Amelia, Marcus and Little Kandy Girl Lash. Thank god Little Mix got through, Tulisa actually looked like she was going to vomit while waiting for that announcement. Speaking of vomit, when Dermot asks Kelly how she feels about having two of her acts in the bottom two, she says that she’s feeling very sick. Oh fuck, she’ll be on a plane to LA within the hour in that case.

First up is Janet. Doing her Janet thing that she does, in her own Janet way that she knows how to do. This usually means forgetting the lyrics, these days. Janet’s song for survival is Snow Patrol’s Chasing Cars. Oh Janet, you don’t need to chase cars. Brendan will pick you up in his hearse. It’s pleasant and better than anything else she’s sung recently. Though anyone I spoke to about it afterwards hated it, so maybe I just like the sound of funereal keening. That should be the name of Janet’s first album, I think. That or Drowning in Formaldehyde. 

Misha is up next. She has decided to sing a song for survival, despite the fact that she could just stand there doing her evil Misha laugh for 2 minutes and the judges would still choose to send Janet home instead. Misha’s performance is vocally strong but fairly bland. Poor Misha. You’re awesome, but no one will vote for you. Why is that? Oh right, the bully thing. Whoops. 

Louis Walsh is first up. This week Louis has decided that he’s basing his decision on yesterday’s performances. As with all the judges, criteria governing the decision of who to eliminate seems to change every week. Sometimes it’s the sing-off alone. Soemtimes it’s yesterday’s performances. Sometimes it’s based on “potential to be a recording artist”. Sometimes it’s based on how hard Louis wants to bone them. Other times it's based on whether or not their name is an anagram of something the judge likes. What’s the point of the bloody sing-off if it has no effect on the elimination? Anyway, Louis sends Janet home. Tulisa sends Janet home. Kelly Rowland sobs and sniffles and wipes her non-existent tears unconvincingly until Dermot reminds her that if she refuses to make a decision, The Cheryl Cole Solution will come into effect. The Cheryl Cole Solution states that in the event of a judge refusing to choose between her own act because she’s frightened the public will think she’s a bitch for doing so, then the act with the most votes from the other judges will go home. Kelly says a silent prayer of thanks to St. Cheryl and decides to enact X-Factor precedent and avoid making a decision. She also gives Dermot a blowjob for reminding her of the ability to abstain. Janet’s farewell video reminds us of the quiet little blonde girl who was tragically slain by Biscuitman before being reanimated by the producers in a dark voodoo ritual to avoid the controversy of harbouring a serial killing biscuit maker. 

Next week, it’s Semi-Final time. Last year’s semi-final was where they decided to change the rules to ensure Mary Tesco was eliminated; so I can’t wait for next week’s shock Everyone-Who-Isn’t-Named-Misha-B-Is-Out twist. Oh, and Kelly Rowland will be performing on the results show, too, providing she isn’t in LA with another “cold” or busy tweeting photos to Beyoncé captioned “Me & Misha hanging out. U jelly?”.

The X-Factor 2011: Week 8

 It’s time! To disgrace! The music! And I hope you’ve got your ears secured, because we’re disgracing it twice as hard as last week because the contestants are going to be doing double the singing. Last week, Biscuitman was eliminated and the rate of unexplained murders in the area surrounding Rancho X-Factor coincidentally plummeted. As did sales in the nearest confectioners. Voiceover Man excitably informs the audience about each contestant singing twice as he’s accompanied by the most over-dramatic music ever used in this show’s recap. And we’re talking about a programme that uses O Fortuna on a weekly basis, here. Voiceover Man reminds us that Kelly Rowland has three acts left. “Let’s see how long that lasts,” states an outraged Gary Barlow, using the power of basic mathematics to work out that Kelly has a 3/5 chance of losing an act tomorrow. Dancing Dermot sashays on-stage. The less said about it the better. He explains this week’s theme, Guilty Pleasures and Musical Heroes by saying that this week’s theme is Guilty Pleasures and Musical Heroes.

First up is Little Kandy Girl-Lash, again introduced as Tulisa’s Little Muffins. Look, they’ve already been through one name change, Tulisa, why are you trying to confuse things even more? Newcastle Little Mixer explains how this week, the girls “wentoo wintah wundalahnd”, which is Geordie for “My colleagues and I visited a Christmas themed carnival. It was simply marvellous. The atmosphere was splendidly festive, and our mentor, Ms Tulisa Contostavlos, accompanied us, which made the evening all the more enjoyable. When the evening drew to a close, we returned to our temporary lodgings with many happy memories that I shall ever look back on with a huge smile. Before bed, I decided to start a new book, but had a hard time choosing between Julian Barnes’ The Sense of an Ending and Alan Hollinghurst’s The Line of Beauty. While I’m eager to read the former due to the furore surrounding this year’s Man Booker Prize, I ultimately decided to begin reading The Line of Beauty in earnest. I think recently viewing the trailer for Meryl Streep’s Thatcher put me in the mood for some fiction set in that turbulent era. Thus far, it has not disappointed.” Or something. There’s footage of Tulisa and the girls on a slide, recreating that famous experiment where Galileo dropped a heavy item and a light item from the Leaning Tower of Pisa to show how objects fall at the same speed irrespective of mass. And sure enough, Tulisa and Pick ‘n’ Mix make it down the slide at more or less the same time. Eventually, the editors of this VT remembered that it was for a singing competition, and got around to explaining the song choice – the girls will be singing a Justin Bieber song, mashed up with a Diana Ross number. And I have no idea if it’s meant to be their guilty pleasure or their musical heroes. The girls perform Bieber’s “Baby” with elaborate staging. They’re waitresses in a 1950s style Diner. But there’s no food! I wonder who ate it all? Why did they have to open the show with a Justin Bieber song? Are they trying to completely destroy me? How am I supposed to remain coherent for another 9 songs after this opening? JUDGES! Louis didn’t like it, because they insulted his diva Goddess Diana Ross by twisting her song into a dark Satanic chant by mixing it with the lyrics and music of the pubescent Canadian demonspawn.

Next up is Janet Devlin. “I’m going home” she announces in her intro video. Oh Janet, don’t be so defeatist! The elimination isn’t until tomorrow! But sure enough, back home she goes, BACK TO HORRIBLE IRELAND. Dying, famine-stricken bankers line the streets, staring at Janet forlornly with sunken, hopeless eyes. “Where have the good times gone?” they ask her, with distended stomachs that haven’t known the sweet taste of caviar, cocaine or Cristal champagne since the Anglo-Irish bailout. Janet sways down Main Street, Tyrone, wailing her song of death as headless horsemen reap the souls in her wake. Then she turns on the Christmas lights, and ooh, aren’t they pretty? Janet explains that she’ll be singing Hanson’s Mmmbop, which is not really the type of song she normally likes. THAT'S WHY THEY'RE CALLED GUILTY PELASURES YOU GHASTLY TIT. Janet Devlin does Mmmbop? Is this a sign of the end times? It starts less awful than her Jackson 5 song from a few weeks ago. Then again, that’s like saying that having your testicles chopped off is a less awful way to be emasculated than having a red hot poker shoved 5 inches up your urethra. But then Janet manages to forget the lyrics AGAIN, and just shuffles about awkwardly on-stage. “Mmmbop”, Janet! The fucking lyrics are “Mmmbop”! JUDGES! Louis tries to pretend everything is okay, because he realises that Janet winning is the only way for Ireland to battle its way out of recession. Everyone else knows it was a train wreck.

It’s Misha B time! In her intro-reel, Misha explains that the past few weeks have been really emotional for her, but that she’s decided that she “wants Misha B back”. Oh great, this means she’s started leaving dead animals in Little Mix’s dressing room again, does it? “I’m saying goodbye to all my troubles”, Misha explains, so I can only conclude that Kelly Rowland has had Mama Misha B assassinated after the upset she caused last weekend. Misha consults with the Evil Fashion Nazis of Style Team.  After picking her outfit, she confirms that she’s definitely back to being 100% Misha B. That’s good to hear. I hate when my Misha B is laced with impurities like rat poison and baking soda. Misha’s guilty pleasure is Cyndi Lauper’s Girls Just Wanna Fun, performed from atop a big red stairs. As you do. There’s rapping! There’s a patented Misha B laugh in there, too! Ha! Aha-ha! That sound is music to my ears, although I’m sure it sends chills down the spines of everyone Misha has ever bullied. So about 15% of the population of the British Isles, then. JUDGES! They all love Misha B and they’re terribly excited that she’s back and gotten rid of that dreary clone who replaced her for the past few weeks.

Up next is Marcus, who’ll be singing Wham’s I’m Your Man. Hopefully Louis won’t take that as a proposition. Marcus’s VT is all about his relationship with Gary. He’s not just his mentor, you see, he’s his FWIEND. Marcus excitedly tells us how he visited Gary’s recording studio, which I’m just going to assume is a horrible smutty euphemism. Further talk of Gary’s “recording studio” and the fun times Marcus had “in it” pushing all the buttons and fiddling with the knobs. What vile smut. On to the performance! Marcus singing this song is somehow gayer than George Michael doing it. Perhaps that’s why George was taken ill this week; Marcus is absorbing his swagger. Well, that or his habit of smoking greenhouses of weed and crashing into gay cruising areas has finally worn his health away to nothing. Marcus proceeds to vault up onto the judge’s table and gyrates in front of Louis Walsh. MY EYES! Judges! Louis is unable to talk because he is so overcome with arousal. The sexually charged talk continues as Kelly Rowland fixates on Marcus’s abs, Dermot calls him “The postman who ALWAYS delivers”, Gary Barlow mentions how Marcus “came in my dressing room earlier” and Louis talks about how he’d like Marcus to explode hot sperm all over his face. 

Kelly Rowland warns us to shut the building down as Kat Slater is next. Why? Does she have rabies or something? Diabetes isn’t contagious, Kelly, you ignorant shrew. Amelia explains how she’s so happy she got through at the expense of Fat Craig. This intro video is where she truly becomes an established part of the show, as we experience all of the clichés you’d expect from an X-Factor intro-reel the week after a contestant was in the bottom two. Amelia is sad! Amelia picks herself back up! Amelia is determined not to end up in the sing-off again! Amelia’s guilty pleasure is Anita Dobson’s Anyone Can Fall in Love, also known as The Ridiculous Song That Put Lyrics to the Eastenders’ Theme Tune and Inexplicably Made it to No.4 in the UK Charts. Well, actually it’s T’Pau’s China in Your Hands. But I’m going to pretend she sang the other song instead, because that’s much more amusing than the reality of Amelia belting out T’Pau and doing a damned good job of it. So, four-fifths of the guilty pleasures were songs from the 1980s? And the other one was Justin Bieber, which doesn’t count as actual music as it is actually a form of aural heroin that only affects thirteen year old girls. Judges! Louis reminds everyone that he saved Kat last week. Except he fucking well didn’t, he showed homo-solidarity and voted to save Biscuitman last week. Tulisa loved Amelia! Gary... reminds Amelia of her numerous defeats in this competition for some reason and then insults T’Pau. He goes on to call your mother fat, makes a joke about people with Down’s Syndrome and then phones Simon Cowell to ask is he doing the likeable Mr Nasty routine right yet.

Up next again is Little Kandy Girl-Lash again. And again, Tulisa introduces them as her “Little Muffins” again again again. And to think they call this show predictable repetitive nonsense. A second song means suffering through a second intro-video. Because the first wasn’t execrable enough. The girls explain that their musical hero is Christina Aguilera and they’re going to be singing Beautiful as it means so much to them. Because, we are reminded for the millionth time, they’re ordinary girls! Just like all the girls at home who don’t normally vote for girlbands on this show because they think they’re going to fuck their boyfriends and piss on their favourite shoes or whatever primal social fear it is that makes girls mean to one another for no reason. So keep voting for Little Mix, because if you don’t, it’s just like kicking yourself in the face with a shit-covered shoe. Footage of the girls being interviewed by a random radio dude about Pick ‘n’ Mix being bullied online. “I AM NEVER GOING TO GO ON A DIET BECAUSE I LIKE EATING TOO MUCH”, she explains. She’s got such a mighty mane of hair. She looks like a lioness. Or a King Charles Cavalier. The girls do an average rendition of this incredibly over-exposed and worn out song that has Pick ‘n’ Mix sobbing her little heart out by the end. Awwww. I think I want them to win now, just because my life is a better place with Jesy in it. The rest of them can fuck off. Aside from Mixed Up, maybe. I like her evil little vole-like face. Judges! Louis is still in the toilets masturbating furiously after Marcus thrusted into his face earlier. Kelly liked it. Gary Barlow thought the vocal was a bit weak but he approves of the friendship between the girls. I’m sure they’re delighted to know that. Dermot attempts to speak to a snotty/sobby Pick ‘n’ Mix, who explains that they chose the song because all the ORDINARY GIRLS who follow them on Twitter asked them to. So what you’re saying is that you didn’t pick the song because Christina is your musical hero? I’ve just lost all respect for Little Mix. Which means I feel exactly the same about them as I did 3 minutes ago.

The next act is Janet, unless she’s forgotten how to leave the toilet where she’s been crying for the past 40 minutes since she forgot the words to Mmmbop. As the theme for the second song is musical heroes, I was really hoping that we’d see Janet perform some Pantera. Alas, she’s decided to sing the Red Hot Chilli Peppers’ Under the Bridge instead. Dammit, Janet. In the intro-video we’re introduced to her boyfriend Brendan, who looks rather a lot like Richmond the Goth from the IT Crowd. Or y’know, Noel Fielding, who isn’t exactly dressing much different when he’s playing Richmond to how he normally dresses, I guess. The staging for Janet’s performance involves a giant screen with Janet’s face on it blankly fading in and out, watching herself perform. It's like that Halloween special of South Park presented in Spooky Vision that has Barbra Striesand's face flash on-screen to horrifying effect every so often. I like to think it’s a manifestation of Janet’s soul, trapped in limbo watching her reanimated body perform and helpless to do anything about it. And wondering how Brendan can love the cold, dead skin of zombie Janet so much more than he ever loved Live Janet. It’s much better than her first song, which is faint praise indeed. Being kicked in the face by a horse is a better experience than Janet singing Mmmbop. JUDGES! Blah blah blah Ireland blah blah blah shamrock says Louis. Tulisa lauds Janet for being herself. Basically Tulisa says something completely pointless. Then Gary says that he respects Janet for completely ignoring the advice and criticism he gives her every single week. Gary likes when people ignore him? He’d fucking love me so; I’m always trying to convince myself that he doesn’t exist. Kelly Rowland says Janet should be proud because she, and I quote “you’re still like I’m still gonna come out here and I’m still gonna sing my Janet Devlin style way of singin that I know how to do”. Such a wordsmith, that Kelly Rowland. Before Dermot can interview Janet, the Ghostbusters storm into the studio and trap her in an ecto-containment unit. 

Misha’s second intro video is all about how Misha and Kelly are BFFs now. We see them hanging out and having fun, and Misha enthuses to the camera about how awesome Kelly is, and Kelly bitches about how Beyoncé hasn’t been in touch in weeks, and when she is it’s all baby this and baby that, so she’s had to get a new BFF and as Michelle Williams is so fucking boring, she decided to go with Misha instead. They hug! Misha is performing Killing Me Softly as her second song. So does this mean that Lauren Hill is her musical hero or Roberta Flack? Misha performs in front of several mirrors, reflecting her arse into infinity. Imagine if they’d done this kind of staging for Treyc and Her Massive Arse last year. It would have melted eyeballs. Continents would been lost. Civilisations destroyed. The mirrors make it appears as though there are many Mishas, which I’m sure is a concept that has reduced all of Little Mix to tears. The performance doesn’t really work. For a start, there’s no rapping. Secondly, there’s no evil Misha laugh. And finally, she sings the whole song in a rather upbeat manner that just doesn’t work. It comes across as "Oh, he's killing me softly! Wheeeeee!" But it’s definitely better than Little Paije Richardson’s gender-altered version from last year, so I guess that’s something. Judges! Tulisa reckons that this has been Misha’s best week ever and that she’s the one the other contestants have to beat. Including the ones who have never been in the bottom two, Tulisa? Gary says that the competition would be duller without Misha. Well, he’d be the expert on that, wouldn't he.

Marcus returns with a completely unfocussed intro-video that’s sort of about how Stevie Wonder has always been his musical hero, genuinely, unlike all the other contestants who were just lying (I’M LOOKING AT YOU, LITTLE MIX) and then segues into how his mother is so proud of her gay postman son, who clambers onto tables and shoves his crotch into the faces of middle-aged Irish men while singing 80s camp classics by public-sex fan George Michael. Marcus is singing Stevie’s Lately. He sings it a little bit too earnestly; it’s all a bit over-emotional and contrived to drag emotions out of your unfeeling heart whether you like it or not. It's also boring. Really boring. JUDGES! Louis just stares at Marcus’s groin and doesn’t say a word. Tulisa says it was emotional. Yes, Tulisa, but it was too emotional. It was forced emotion. It was overwrought and unconvincing. And more than a little bit shouty. Tulisa tells us that Marcus doesn’t want to play the sympathy card but he’s had a tough life and deserves to be in the competition. I KNEW he seemed excessively comfortable gyrating for old man Louis earlier! Tulisa’s comments just make me want to Google Marcus non-stop until I can find out exactly what the fuck she’s referring to. 

We’ve somehow survived 9 performances, and just have to make it through one more, as Kat Slater closes the show. Kelly, introducing Amelia, refers to her fans as “her lillies”, which just sounds like a fanny pad. I can picture the advert right now. Just like all tampon ads, it’d feature Kelly hanging out with her girls on a rollercoaster, or about to go skydiving when, oh no, she’s on the blob! What is she going to do? Why, she’ll just stuff in Her Lillies™, of course, and then she’ll sky dive and coast rollers all the live-long day, whilst being all super-fresh and clean and other words that blood-nappy adverts typically feature. Amelia explains, in her intro video, how Kelly Clarkson is her musical hero, because she was in a show like the X-Factor and went on to have a music career. By that logic, couldn’t Cher Lloyd be Amelia’s musical hero? I think I’d love to see her cover Swagger Jagger. It’d certainly be better than this lacklustre version of Since You’ve Been Gone. The vocals are up and down and all around the place. It isn’t terrible, it’s just a bit pitchy. JUDGES! Gary thought it was a bit shouty, Tulisa thought it had problems but proved that Amelia was a rocker at heart, and Louis Walsh has nothing of import to say, ever.

That’s your lot for tonight. Tune in tomorrow when the show will feature world-class musical guests like... eh... Olly Murs and Jessie J. Oh. Well, tune in anyway.

The X-Factor: Week 7 - Performances & Results

IT’S TIME. TO DISGRACE. THE MOVIES! In a surprise twist, this week’s episode begins on time. No last minute contestant resignations or returns. No technical hitches. No Jihadists bursting into the studio and unleashing a hail of semi-automatic weapons-fire into the judges, tearing Gary Barlow apart while Louis Walsh observes “You’re Muslim. You’re angry. You’re like little theocratic revolutionaries.” 

This week’s Dermot’s Dance Dance Revolution is set to the James Bond theme. I gather they’ve now started doing elaborate dancing-presenter intros with Steve Jones and His Mysteriously Disappearing Welsh Accent as well on the US Factor. That just shows how completely spontaneous and natural this franchise is, and how the producers don’t just have a tick-box of elements that the series should have. Dermot unleashes many terrible film-related puns before welcoming the Judges on-stage. Unfortunately, Kelly Rowland is not dressed like the bastard offspring of the landed gentry and a penguin this week.

Gary Barlow introduces Craig Colton with all the enthusiasm of a comatose deaf mute. Biscuitman intro-videos about how he attended a charity gig put on by Barlow. At no point do they mention the name of the charity, which you’d imagine is the kind of thing you might want to do with good causes. The contestants got a shock announcement this week, the VT informs us, when Tulisa announced that all of the remaining contestant were definitely on the X-Factor tour. They scream with delight until they realise it means being shackled together in a tour bus for several months for less than £100 a week. Oh naive contestants, you didn’t think the producers weren’t going to find some way to claw back the money they spent on bleaching and straightening your teeth, did you? Now we’re on to Biscuitman’s family. Jesus this VT is covering a lot of ground. Biscuitdad kisses his son. That’s the root of his homosexuality right there. Emotionally distant fathers produce strong, independent manly sons – that’s Parenting 101. “We always knew Craig was going to be a singer from an early age” says Biscuitdad, cleverly using the word singer as a euphemism as a hilariously fake and staged clip of Craig listening to Paparazzi at a bus stop segues into last week’s aneurism-inducingly boring performance. “We’re so proud to be his mum and dad”. What terrible parents. They’ve changed the little clips that accompany Voiceover Man’s announcement of the names at the end of the intro reels, presumably to replace the terrifying faces Craig used to pull in his with a marginally less terrifying one of him smiling while thinking about how he’s going to cut out and eat your liver while you’re still alive.

Craig is singing Licence to Kill, from some James Bond film whose name escapes me. The Living Daylights, probably. “Please don't bet that you'll ever escape me; Once I get my sights on you.” This song is doing nothing to undermine my suspicions that Craig is a serial killer. Soaring vocals and glory notes! Horrifying facial expressions! Arm-thrusts of emotion! I’ll give Biscuitman this much: he’s consistent. Unfortunately he’s consistently as dull as dishwater and this week’s performance is no different. JUDGES! Louis thinks Craig is better than the song choice; Tulisa thinks he sounded amazing but also doesn’t rate the song choice, and Kelly Rowland comes within several nanometres of actually offering criticism, before reining herself in and deciding that “AH JUST LOVE YOU” is a constructive critique.  Gary Barlow rails on Louis and Tulisa by pointing out that the X-Factor is a singing competition, not a “song-choosing competition”. Like the famous Eurovision Song Choosing Competition, for example. Louis and Tulisa’s reactions are priceless; the latter reminds Barlow that he has criticised song choices several times in the past. Gary decides to deal with this by continuing to talk until the other judges fall asleep from exposure to his dreary voice.

Up next is Wee Janet from Horrible Ireland. Janet’s intro video repeats Gary’s warning from last week on how she was bordering on boring. This really cut to the bone for Janet, because if anyone knows boring, it’s Mr Barlow. Janet is very pretty in her intro video; they really should stop trying to make her look like a corpse for her actual performances. “I’m not boring, I’m just weird” explains Janet, as she squashes some blueberries with a spoon and smears the resulting mush all over her eyelids. One of Evil Fashion Nazis from Style Team™ gets an airing in Janet’s VT to explain how difficult it is to dress Janet. I mean, first they have to find a cemetery with crypts from Victorian times, then they have to break into them, and then you mightn’t even find any bodies with the same build as Janet. Frankly, they can’t wait for her to leave so they can get back to more conventional styling arrangements like dressing poor Pick ’n’ Mix differently from the other members of Little Mix so she stands out even more, or making papier maché evening gowns for Misha B. Janet is amazed that people at the Twilight premiere knew her name. “How do you know my nyaaaaaaaam?” she wonders. Because people on Mars can hear Voiceover Man bellowing it, Janet. Janet is singing Sixpence None the Richer’s Kiss Me, from every teen chick flick ever. She’s accompanied by the fake plastic trees from Cher Lloyd’s throne of winter staging last year. Actually, the whole routine (Janet sings while two “lovers” seated on a park bench stare longingly into one another’s eyes and pretend to chat) seems very familiar. This show is now so creatively bankrupt that they’ve started re-using complete staging routines in addition to the props. Come back Brian Friedman, we need your twisted genius! JUDGES! Janet fidgets nervously, not because of their potential comments, but because the Elixir Vitae only works for a few hours and she doesn’t want to turn back into one of the undead live on-stage. Louis loved it and says she has “natural Celtic charm”, what with her hair, which the Style Team made redder, and her alabaster skin, which the Style Team make whiter. Natural Celtic charm indeed. Tulisa is happy that Janet is BACK IN HER BOX and not trying anything different. Gary Barlow says something forgettable, while Kelly has changed her speech-switch from Agreeable Nonsense to Random Bollocks Falling Out My Mouth. “Me Me? I’m Janet Devlin. Boo Boo.” So in addition to forgetting how to speak, she’s also forgotten who she is.

Comeback queen Kat Slater is up next. I was hoping her intro reel would distil six week’s worth of X-Factor VT clichés into one. We’d have a quick clip of Amelia sobbing because she misses her family; Amelia worrying about the bad comments she got from the Judges; Amelia ‘s anxiety about whether or not Alfie will be able to run the Queen Vic without her; Amelia telling us the story of her Type 1 Diabetes so we feel sorry for her; Amelia being bullied by Misha B because she’s the new girl, and so on. But alas this one just focuses on how Kelly took all of her girls to a spa so they could relax. We see Amelia and Kelly in a sauna together. I presume that Amelia excused herself at some point and tried to lock Kelly in there as part of her vendetta against her. If it hadn’t been for those damn modern safety features... Kat is singing Aretha Franklin’s Think, which was performed by Aretha on television once and is thus eligible for inclusion under Rule 18: No X-Factor theme shall ever be taken seriously, ever. As is always the case with Kat, I am continuously distracted by thinking “HOW THE FUCK IS SHE SIXTEEN?” during the performance. She puts in a competent and confident performance, which is nice for her given the head start all the other contestants have had in getting used to being on this show. Louis says that Amelia could be the next big female singing sensation (I don’t think Adele is getting off of that throne without a fight) although Louis also thought that Goldie Cheung could be the next big female singing sensation, so his judgement is a little suspect. Tulisa had a problem with the song choice, because she didn’t know it. It’s a bit surprising that Tulisa isn’t familiar with Aretha Franklin’s discography given that Ms Constostavlos’s professional career revolves around pretending to be black. Gary Barlow drones on about semitones until Amelia stabs him in the arm with her insulin and puts him into a coma. No one notices the difference.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, and following former bookies’ favourite Misha B’s second stint in the bottom two, the producers have decided to dredge up the biggest sob story imaginable. Well, second biggest – they could’ve killed her Aunt who raised her but they decided instead that they’d have Misha’s long-estranged mother write an open letter to the newspapers, and then film the resulting conversation between Kelly and Misha about their respective family issues. It’s rather awkward, because they can’t do the usual X-Factor thing of ending with a resolute statement of intent or easy summary of whatever the intro-video topic was. Instead it’s an appallingly voyeuristic insight into a girl with a troubled family-life talking around those issues, with someone she has only really known for 2 months, while a crew film every word and, judging by the background noise that accompanies it, several people are cleaning up after dinner nearby. I guess Kelly’s busy schedule meant they could only film this intensely personal moment for Misha while in the kitchen. So... they got me to feel sorry for Misha, but not for the reasons they wanted? Is that still a win for the heartless bastards? I’m surprised they didn’t set this whole piece to a ballad version of Papa Roach’s Broken Home segueing into the Spice Girls’ Mama. If all that wasn’t enough, they also decided to dress Misha as an angel, to make you feel even worse for not voting for her. She’s singing a song from The Bodyguard that isn’t the Dolly Parton cover. I didn’t even know the Bodyguard had more than one song. It’s a typically strong vocal but I miss fierce bitch Misha with the Rhino hair and newspaper thrones. BRING HER BACK. I was hoping that having someone new to bully in the shape of Amelia would reignite that spark, as it is clearly being cruel to others that fuels her talent. Alas, Mamma Misha’s move probably cancelled that out. Dman you, Mamma Misha. JUGDES! Louis reminds Manchester to vote for Misha. So does Tulisa. I think she might need a bit more than just one city to vote for her in this show that frequently tallies voting numbers above ten million, guys. Gary says he was very sad to see Misha “last week twice in the bottom week”, which I guess means that Kelly Rowland’s verbal diarrhoea affliction is contagious. He’ll be calling people Mimi and Boo Boo before he knows it. In between bouts of not making any sense, Gary agrees with me that we need Misha Bitch back. 

Tulisa again introduces Little Kandy Girl-Lash as her “little muffins” this week. Does this mean Tulisa has taken up the bullying baton from Misha now that she’s too forlorn to do it herself? The Little Mix VT is all about how difficult it is being a girl band. So they got some advice from The Saturdays, the group that have honed the girl band formula so successfully that one of them had to become a “part-time” member due to depression, and another just announced she’s knocked up. Well, Pick ‘n’ Mix is probably already depressed from being fat, so all we need is for one of the others to get pregnant and Little Mix will officially have made it. Personally I feel Mixed Up should be the one to sacrifice her hymen for the sake of the group as she’s currently the least noticeable member. You notice Mixed Race because... well, she’s mixed race. You notice Pick ‘n’ Mix because of all the crumbs and discarded sweet wrappers on the floor around her. And you notice Myxomatosis because she never shuts the fuck up in their intro videos. But Mixed Up? Totally needs to get pregnant. Or just replace her with Pregnant Shoe, actually. Little Mix also got to go to the premiere of Twilight. Cue shots of the Little Mixers being all squeaky and excited because THEY’RE NORMAL GIRLS JUST LIKE YOU AND LOVE TO ROT THEIR BRAINS ON THE INSIPID WORKS OF STEPHANIE MEYER WHO INVENTED VAMPIRES OMG TEAM EDWARD LOL. Taylor Lautner makes a brief appearance because if Kelly Rowland isn’t going to dress as a penguin this week then a man who looks like a llama is the next best thing. At no point is he topless so I totally don’t care. The girls are performing En Vogue’s Don’t Let Go, which was probably maybe used in a film some time. Maybe. Pick ‘n’ Mix has somehow been squeezed into a pair of leather trousers. In related news, the branch of Boots closest to the X-Factor studios is currently out of stock on talcum powder and Vaseline. It’s a surprisingly competent performance and the girls remain in harmony and in-tune about 90% of the time; three times more than One Direction can average, which I guess makes them the best X-Factor band ever. JUDGES! Louis says that it’s incredible how much they’ve grown and blossomed. I agree, I remember when they looked like the bargain bin at Topshop had been dumped over each of them, and now they’ve progressed into the evil stripper waitress look. Progress indeed. Kelly loved it. Gary breaks the horrible news that from next week, the contestants will be singing two songs each, and a part of me dies inside. The girls shuffle quickly off-stage so that Pick ‘n’ Mix can get out of the leather pants before her heart seizes up.

Ending the show is sparkle-fag Marcus. His intro video focuses on his mixed comments from last week, and his resulting identity crisis. Marcus thought he was finding himself, but now he isn’t so sure! By the end of the VT Marcus has decided that his true self is a womanising motorcyclist with a voice made of gravel, and he rides off into the sunset to be with his old lady Katey Segal. Not really. Marcus did however get to meet last year’s contestant Rebeccabot, who has returned from the future to save us from nuclear Armageddon in 2012. Unfortunately, her creator Dr Robotnik sent her back a year too early, so she’s going to piss about releasing an album and a few singles before she’s inevitably dropped by the record company in 6 months time. Her resulting fury will push her to decide that humankind must be punished, and she’ll upload her Artificial Intelligence to the world’s nuclear missile silos and destroy us all while nerds complain on internet forums that time paradoxes in Science Fiction just don’t make sense. Anyway, the gist of the intro video is that Rebecca helps Marcus to decide to do his own thing while being diverse, or something. Marcus is performing Higher and Higher while every person in the 40-member choir accompanying him pretend to have epileptic seizures for some reason. Perhaps it’s the outrageously loud pink tuxedo and matching pink shoes the evil fashion Nazis made him wear. Oh Style Team, really? You total fuckers. JUDGES! Louis describes Marcus as “The little man from Liverpool with the big soulful voice” and says he has nothing but good things to say about him because he wants to have sex with him. Kelly says that Marcus has shut the building down, confusing him with last week’s power failure. Then she starts talking about levitation and radiating beauty and she’s really in danger of becoming this show’s version of Paula “I see an aura around you” Abdul. 

RESULTS SHOW

  

Dermot informs us that our special guests this evening will be Rebeccabot and Rihanna. He introduces the judges, and it appears that Kelly is wearing a silver Jetsons dress to make Rebeccabot feel at home in the year 2011. Before we know it, our ears are being raped by the Horrendous Group Song, which Dermot promises us features “3 girls, 2 boys, a band and a very special over 25” – oh good, Kitty’s holding someone at gunpoint to get back on to the show, isn’t she? The dumbasses united are performing that song by Bryan Adams and Sporty Spice, so no prizes for guessing that the very special over-25 is Bryan Adams, making a surprise appearance to flog his greatest hits album and tour. Dermot asks Bryan if he has any advice for the contestants. “Write your own music and perform live as often as you can” He has never seen this show before, has he?

It’s awkward backstage chit chat time. Dermot asks Little Kandy Girl Lash to demonstrate their “good luck ritual”. Their good luck ritual involves them making faces. NORMAL GIRLS JUST LIKE YOU VOTE FOR THEM. Dermot asks Misha if she’s betraying her Afro-Caribbean heritage by straightening her hair. Then he asks Janet if she feels like she’s back on track. She does. Kat Slater says she doesn’t want to go home, and Craig says he thinks he might, because he realises he’s a boring bouncy bastard.

The first performance of the night, not counting that zombie Bryan Adams, is the return of Rebeccabot. We can be sure of this because the clip introduces her involves the words REBECCA RETURNS TO SAVE US ALL flashing on-screen in huge letters over a montage of her fighting the good fight against the Terminators in the Matrix. She’s performing atop a light-up plinth which I can only assume is either a regeneration device to charge her batteries, or the time machine she used to make it to the space year 2011. You know what’s an awful boring lyric? “La La La”. This song has some of that. And trust me, the last thing Rebeccabot needs is something to make this song MORE boring. After the performance, Rebecca informs Dermot that she co-wrote the album using a unique programme that came with her latest firmware upgrade. And she just sang live, too. Bryan Adams will be so happy. 

Next up is Rihanna, with a rather bizarre and ridiculous mess of a performance. Firstly, she’s singing We Found Love, which is basically a dance track, and they don’t exactly make for terribly interesting performance what with the repetitive lyrics and frequent sections of thumping music with no words. So they’ve decided to fill up all that space with dancers invading the audience and pretending to have the tamest rave ever. But secondly and even more bizarrely, there’s a backing track for the entire song, as though Rihanna was going to mime but then decided she wanted to sing live as well. So we have Rih-Rih singing in time to her own identical recorded vocals. And then halfway through she starts giving up and only half singing the lines and the whole thing is a complete disaster. She does however plug her new album like a pro when Dermot interviews her after the performance, so at least she got something right. 

And now it’s the results and time to crush someone’s dreams! IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER except that which producers the most drama, Misha B is safe, followed by Little Mix who have, inexplicably, NEVER been in the bottom two. Marcus is safe, so it’s between Janet, Kat Slater and Biscuitman for the sing-off. And Janet is safe so it’s Craig and Amelia in the bottom two. So the British public vote Kat INTO the competition last week, and this week she’s one of the two lowest polling contestants?

Anyhow, first up is Biscuitman, singing Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow, in the style of a kicked puppy. At several points he looks like he’s either going to burst into tears or vomit. He’ll feel better once he stalks an audience member on their way home, kills them and eats their brains with fava beans and a nice Chianti. Kat Slater meanwhile chooses to perform Gaga’s You and I, in the style of Lady Gaga. She does a good job. And then it’s decision time. Gary Barlow decides to be an absolute cunt and sticks the boot into Kat by telling her she shouted her way through her performance while Biscuitman’s was lovely and emotional. He sends Amelia home. Fuck off Gary. Kelly takes umbrage at Gary’s comments and unsurprisingly decides to send Craig home. One apiece, Dermot informs us, just in case we’d forgotten how to count. Tulisa sends Kat home. Louis decides to send Craig back to the biscuit factory, so we get the very first DEADLOCK of the series. And it seems the public have decided that the biscuit has gone stale, as Craig got the lowest number of votes. Simultaneously, Danyl Johnson deletes Craig's phone number. As they play the recap of his time in the show, I find that I actually cannot tell any of his performances apart. He really was doing exactly the same thing week after week. Fist pump, make a face, glory note. Lather, rinse, repeat. So I guess it’s a good thing that he’s going home, not least because the population of London are now safe from his murderous ways. But the X-Factor tour is starting soon. So lock up your loved ones and don’t walk alone in the dark, because the Biscuitman is coming to a town near you. And if you’re not careful, you might find yourself dunked. By which i mean horribly mutilated and left to die in a field while Craig emotionally punches the air and pulls a face.

The X-Factor 2011: Week 6 - Results

IT’S TIME. TO CRUSH SOMEONES DREAMS AND THEN FORCE THEM TO TAKE PART IN A TOUR OF THE BRITISH ISLES IN THE NEW YEAR, BEFORE CASTING THEM ADRIFT, SHACKLED TO A CONTRACT THAT PREVENTS THEM FROM RELEASING A SINGLE OF THEIR OWN UNTIL 12 MONTHS AFTER THE SHOW BEGAN, THUS MAKING IT IMPOSSIBLE FOR THEM TO CAPITALISE ON THEIR SHORT-LIVED FAME! Okay, so I actually missed the first few minutes of the show because I was being a good boy and doing an assignment, but I’m sure I didn’t miss anything crucial. If it was anything like the previous show, the only thing I missed would have been several minutes of badly edited old auditions.

Well, actually, I did miss most of the Horrendous Group Song™. On the one hand, I’m delighted, because the Horrendous Group Song usually makes me want to plunge my head into a bathtub full of acid. On the other hand, the Horrendous Group Song usually makes me stop to re-evaluate my life and think “Hey, things aren’t so bad you know. If I can make it through that wooden, uncoordinated, autotuned disaster then I can survive anything. Perhaps even sticking my head into a bathtub full of acid.” Oh look, I tuned in just in time for the interminable recap. Woo and indeed Hoo. Mixed fortunes for Dreary Janet! Applause for future serial killer Biscuitman! A big “Meh” for Marcus! A chariot and dancers pretending to be horses for Kitty! The brief return of 2 Shoes! It all just reminds me what an amazing show we didn’t have last night.

The first of our musical guests tonight is... oh fuck. It’s One Dimension, back to torment me. It’s time to welcome back Muslim Bieber, Irish Bieber, Curly-haired Bieber, Superior Clone of Bieber Bieber and Inferior Clone of Bieber Bieber. The boys haven’t changed at all since last year, except that two of them are now Curly Headed Biebers, which just means I’m going to have to completely rethink my naming conventions. Oh, and they’ve also since had a DEBUT NUMBER 1 and 2011’s FASTEST SELLING SINGLE, according to the X-Factor Hyperbolic Text Generator. Bieber Squad are singing their new song, which I’m not even going to bother looking up the name of. The song is a careful demonstration of Boyband Songwriting Principle Number 7: Have the boys sing directly to an unnamed GIRL as often as possible. This allows prepubescent females who have yet to develop the critical faculties necessary to realise that One Dimension will never be their boyfriends to continue thinking there’s a chance that one of them might indeed be their boyfriend. This principle is illuminated with the lyrical wordsmithery of this song, such as “Girl, can we try one more time, one more time?” and “Girl, can you cup my balls when you do that? Oh yeah, just like that. Now work the shaft. Mmm. Oh yeah”. Irish Bieber is still completely gormless and verging on retardation, and proceeds to DANCE VERY ENERGETICALLY while all the others are doing their best to pour some doe-eyed emotion into vapid lyrics like “Girl, won’t you let me take a dump on your chest, and leave it there for a day, and then lick your eyelids?”. But at least his hair isn’t two tones of ridiculous any more. Newly Curly Haired Bieber sounds like a wolf being raped by a bear during his section. “Oh girl, can I stick my fingers up your nose, and cum in your hair? If I call you girl, will you be my girl? I’ll never cheat on you. Girl. If you’d only massage my prostate”. And then we’re done. Thank fuck. The producers have paid the audience to react wildly, and when they’re finished, Dermot asks Bieber Squad who their favourites are. “Little Mix” they say, before hastily adding “But not the hefty one.”

Dermot decides to fill some time by awkwardly interviewing the contestants. He asks Kitty if she’s excited to meet her hero Lady Gaga. Kitty is excited to meet her hero Lady Gaga. Dermot asks Janet if she’s nervous. She is nervous. The insightful interviewing continues until we have filled the requisite amount of time. Also notable: the huge reaction Marcus gets from the female contingent of the audience. Either they’re all fag hags half cut on Smirnoff Ice, or they’re particularly deluded.

And then it’s time for genuine intergalactic superstar Lady Gaga to whore her newest (lame) single, Marry the Night, which supports the right of individuals to marry concepts of time. Keep an ear out for the follow-ups, Aborting the Morning and Divorcing Noon. The Hyperbolic Text Generator informs us that Gaga has won several Brit Awards, as though that means something. Gaga probably isn’t even aware she owns any Brit Awards. She melts them down and uses them to fill in cracks on her Grammys, American Music Awards and Billboard Awards. Gaga’s performance begins inside a confessional with a gigantic cross overhead, from which she emerges wearing a costume that makes it look as if she’s been decapitated. Then she changes into her knickers, which have more talent in them than all five of One Direction. Performance over, Dermot asks her if she knows who Kitty is. “Provided you ask me no further questions, my response is ‘Yes’”, says the Gaga. Then she leaves to go and change into her eveningwear, which is probably going to consist of a urinal costume and toilet-seat hat.

It’s results time! Boring serial killer Biscuitman is through and closer than ever to realising his ambition of meeting Adele, killing her and stealing her skin to fashion a wedding dress out of. Janet is through, and looks about as shocked as the rest of us. Sparkle-fag Marcus is through. DON’T BE SO SHIT NEXT WEEK, MARCUS. FRANKIE is through. Oh wait, he isn’t. Muwahahahaha. Kat Slater is safe, leaving Little Mix, Misha B and Kitty... Little Mix are safe. Pick ‘n’ Mix eats her fellow band members with joy.

Kitty decides to sing Somewhere Over the Rainbow, a song about an alternate world where things are better, and you just know she’s imagining a planet where she’s touring with Lady Gaga. Or just somewhere where she survives the forthcoming judge’s vote. It’s a good performance, and it’s at times like these, stripped of bombast and spectacle, that you’re reminded that she genuinely can sing very well.

Now it’s Misha, singing a song called I Am Not a Bully (But I’m Going To Fucking Kill You). Well, she actually isn’t, but I have no idea what she actually sang and had to look it up online. Then it turned out to be Jessie J. Whatever. It’s good but I always prefer upbeat fierce bitch Misha B to sombre I’ma Be Eliminated Misha. We go to the Judges, even though it’s a foregone conclusion that Kitty is going home. Louis saves Kitty, obviously, while the other three choose to send her home. Louis gallops on-stage to say farewell to his final act, as he again becomes the first judge to lose all of his performers. Kitty asks Dermot for the microphone so that she can give us one last Kitty moment, and sings a few lines of the song she couldn’t perform last night, Born This Way. And after making her dignified exit from the show, the class act continued over on the Xtra Factor (I swear I only watch it for the first ten minutes to see how tight Olly’s trousers are), where El Gaga herself ran on-stage at high speed, despite wearing a pair of mutha-fucking huge heels, threw her arms around Kitty and asked her to come for a drink with her. In Kitty’s head, that’s probably a better prize than she would’ve gotten for winning the show.

The X-Factor 2011: Week 6

IT’S TIME! TO FACE! THE OLD CLIPS? Initially, I feared that the fact we were being treated to a bunch of random audition clips for the first 15 minutes of the show meant that Kitty Brucknell went on a pre-emptive rampage due to the likelihood of being eliminated tomorrow and had killed all the judges. Then I realised we would never be so lucky. And we weren’t, as it turns out the whole shebang was merely delayed because of a power failure. An unusual example of fail occuring outside the confines of the show for once.

The delayed show begins with another Dermot dance routine. I really don’t know what to make of these, but I guess they’re here to stay so I should just grin and bear it. It’s like a less awful version of the Horrendous Group Song™. Perhaps it’s Dermot’s pitch for a place on Strictly Come Dancing in case he ever gets the boot from presenting this. Anyway, he apologises for the late start, and introduces a short video to bring viewers up to speed with the latest farcical developments in this chaotic series. Frankie “decided to leave” which is code for “Frankie snorted 18 lines of Cocaine and had an epiphany wherein he realised he was an absolute bollocks with no talent and needed to go”. 

Desperate to ensure the show remains on schedule, because they’ve already put a significant deposit down for the final at Wembley Arena (and that place doesn’t come cheap), the producers had to scramble for a replacement contestant to pad the drama out for the requisite number of weeks. So they decided to bring back the four contestants eliminated in Week one. They’ve extracted dour Solja Boy Jonjo Kerr from the frontlines of the Cylon Civil War, where he valiantly holds the line against the Franco-Klingon hordes. They travelled to Planet Boring, ignoring the pleas of a desperate Sophie Habibis in favour of James “I’m so dull I don’t even have a proper surname” Michael. Then they made their way to Essex and found amazeballs half-preggers totes emosh duo Two Shoes underneath a pile of coats they’d stolen from a nightclub. Finally, they rescued the oldest-looking sixteen year-old in the universe, Kat Slater look-alike Amelia Lily from the clutches of Phil Mitchell. The video explaining this nonsense actually features Two Shoes saying “OMG SHOE REVENGE” which is possibly my favourite moment of the entire series. The most popular of these four will be chosen by public vote to return to the competition and perform at the end of tonight’s show and then face potential elimination tomorrow. Got it? No? Well, that’s okay, because it’s a foregone conclusion that Amelia Lily is going to romp home with the vote anyway.

Dermot introduces the judges and tonight’s theme, which is Sing a Song by Lady Gaga or Queen. For some reason, Kelly Rowland has decided to dress as a penguin tonight, demonstrating that her tenuous grip on reality is worsening each week. Dermot asks each of the judges which of the four acts they’d like to see return. Tulisa, Kelly and Gary unsurprisingly go for each of the acts they originally mentored. Louis, meanwhile, picks Kat Slater. Somewhere backstage Jonjo Kerr has shed a single tear. Maybe. If he wasn’t a dead-eyed sociopath who joined the army to feed his urge to kill.

First to perform is Kitty Brucknell, which means she’s going home tomorrow, alas. Kitty’s VT focuses on how she’s the biggest Lady Gaga fan in the world and absolutely cannot wait for the opportunity to perform Born this Way. Her excitement at becoming Gaga is palpable. She bounces up and down and off the walls, detailing her elaborate plans for Born This Way. Then it turns out that Misha B will be performing it instead because she knows where Kitty’s dad lives (in a shopping centre, wearing a sandwich board that says “Vote Kitty”, if this intro video is anything to go by) and has lots of friends with crowbars. Bereft at being denied the opportunity to sing her favouritest Gaga song ever, Kitty had a massive strop and decided that if she couldn’t sing it then she wasn’t going to sing any Gaga song at all, and she was going to hold her breath until she fainted and not do her homework and Misha B is a big meanie. So, Kitty has decided to sing Queen’s Don’t Stop Me Now instead. From atop a chariot. Attached to four dancers dressed as... leather-clad war horses? I think the sheer lunacy of the staging for this performance actually broke my brain’s ability to interpret it. The dancers rear. They shake their heads in a horse-stylee. They approximate a canter. The level of sheer insanity on display is almost equal to the Mad Hatter’s party performance of It’s Oh So Quiet from a few weeks ago. I think they did it on purpose to bleach away all memory of Frankie. Unfortunately, the routine isn’t enough to ignore the fact that it’s a fairly weak vocal. JUDGES! Gary calls Kitty “very pretty” which is probably the closest he’s come to being aroused in about 12 years.

Is your brain still reeling from the sight of grown adults pretending to gallop about on stage as horses while a botoxed “twenty-eight” year old channelled Boadicea? Do you need the equivalent of a nice cup of tea and a sit down following a frenetic epileptic seizure brought on by a diamond bullet of sheer madness being shot into your cerebral cortex from a sniper-rifle carved from pure calcified bedlam? You’re in luck, because Craig Colton is up next! Craig’s VT is all about how hard he works and features practice and singing lessons with Gary Barlow. Does the fact that Gary was doing a lot of singing in the video make him eligible for the sing off in the next show? Here’s hoping! Craig enjoyed himself last week, when he proved he could do up-tempo by singing the ballad version of a floor filler. Therefore, he has decided to take a chance and be even more unique this week. You won’t be at all surprised then to hear that Craig’s unique spin on Lady Gaga’s Paparazzi is to completely rip off her piano-version of the song. And without Gaga manically tinkling the ivories it isn’t half as fun. Oh, maybe by “unique” he was referring to the fact that confirmed homosexualist Craig Colton has changed the lyrics from a male object of desire to female. A combination of his newfound sexual confusion and disturbingly tight trousers make this the scariest Biscuitman performance ever. I genuinely thought his considerable and quite-confined thighs were just going to explode and kill the audience. Considering the rapturous applause they give Big Bore Biscuitman, however, perhaps death is the least of what they deserve. JUDGES! Kelly Rowland informs Craig that “You just did that” and I wonder if she’s trying to steal Louis Walsh’s world title for stating the obvious. She’ll have her work cut out.

Tulisa introduces her only remaining act, Little Kandy Girl-Lash. They’re her “Little Muffins”, apparently. Though one of them is much higher in calories than all the others. The intro video is a bit all over the place. First of all it’s about the girls being sad that The Risk went. Then they’re happy because they’re the most successful girl band on the X-Factor ever, which must mean they’re going to be in the bottom two tomorrow with Kitty. Then they have a not-at-all-staged “girly night in” with Tulisa. Then several massive random dogs magically appear. Then they’re rehearsing and Pick ‘n Mix breaks down and everyone is sad and I have no idea what was going on. EDITORS? NARRATIVE STRUCTURE? SORT IT OUT! Anyway, Little Kandy Girl-Lash will be performing Gaga’s Telephone tonight. Myxomatosis takes most of the vocals actually, with the rest just backing her up. Also: Pick ‘n’ Mix is wearing her gigantic chunky neckwear that spells out LOVE yet again. Except it’s on backwards. I hope the poor girl isn’t dyslexic on top of all her other flaws. JUDGES! Gary Barlow spits into their faces and tells them they’re getting predictable and he’s sick of seeing them have fun and wishes they were miserable cunts like Janet instead.  He asks if they’re happy doing the same thing every week and they have a hilarious Little Mix huddle wherein they confer and decide that they are indeed happy doing the same thing every week. It’s almost endearing.

Wee Janet Devlin from Ireland is next. We know this because Kelly Rowland introduces Janet by mentioning Ireland, talks about Ireland several times in the intro-video, and mentions Ireland again after the song is finished. From this, I conclude that Kelly has only just learned what Ireland is in the past few days, and wants to show off the new word she learned. Please note that Kelly Rowland is wearing what appear to be several foxes, a bear pelt, eighteen mink and a couple of raccoons about her shoulders. Janet is sad in her video because she was third from bottom last week. No Janet, it is in no particular order, remember? Also, the bottom three were The Risk, Johnny and Kitty, you thicko. The theme of Janet’s VT is Let’s Get Janet Back In Her Box. To achieve this goal, she’ll be performing Queen’s Somebody to Love in an overwrought, wrist-slittingly depressing style. Seriously, it’s so scaled back and slowed down that listening to it practically propels me back in time to a period when Frankie was still in the competition, so I’m forced to fast forward for my own well-being. It’s just so, so dull. Surprise elimination tomorrow? Maybe. Then again, look how far the Norrie Iron vote got Eoghan Quigg a few years back... *shudder* JUDGES! Louis Walsh is incredibly enthusiastic about Janet but we won’t pay any attention to that because it’s all lies. Tulisa says that she feels that Janet is very one dimensional. This is the same Tulisa who last week chastened Janet for trying something different and told her to get back into her box and don’t dare come out. Dermot rightly points this out. The judges ignore this sage fact. Dermot basically asks Janet how she feels about being pigeon-holed and she says she just needs to find a middle ground between sad and happy. Sappy! No Janet! Come out and sing Du Hast next week! You know you want to.

From Janet feeling uncomfortable in her box, to sparkly gay Marcus finally finding his. His VT is concerned with how much fun he had last week and how that’s the kind of music he wants to be making. To this end, he comes out and performs Another One Bites the Dust with the exact same dance routine and in the exact same style as Reet Petite last week. It just does not work. This song, in this style is just completely jarring and wrong. And just when it seems like it can’t get any worse, the performance ends with Marcus and his dancers blowing sparkle fag glitter dust into the camera. The judges uniformly decree that doing something identical to last week was the wrong move. “Tactical Critique”, cries Barlow, which assumes that the judges on this show have about 100 more IQ points than they actually have.

Misha B is up next and there are no surprises for guessing what she’s performing seeing as they let it slip at the start of the show when Kitty had her strop. Her VT depicts her happiness at not being in the bottom two last week, which gave her the confidence to start bullying again following a rough week. Shots of Misha thumping a pregnant woman in the womb, giving schoolchildren wedgies and reviewing footage of the London riots while shouting “That’s me!” and “There I am again!”. The video assures us that Manchester is supporting Misha. Because she’ll kick the entire city in the face if they don’t. This isn’t Misha’s best performance, and she loses further points because she isn’t even dressed as a rhinoceros or a papier maché newspaper queen to distract from the limp vocals. If Misha ever finds this blog I’m going to get such a bullying. JUDGES! Louis actually says that Misha reminds him of a little Chaka Kahn. Or possibly Jackie Chan. It’s difficult to tell. He’s just bloody doing it on purpose now, isn’t he? Gary applauds Misha for her work ethic because she’s always had at work unlike other contestants who sleep all the time. If I were the other contestants, I’d be very creeped out by the possibility that Gary Barlow may have just admitted to watching me sleep.

We take a quick break from the performances for the biggest foregone conclusion in the history of foregone conclusions as Dermot announces who the returning competitor will be! He tries to strangle some drama out of the moment before announcing to no one’s surprise that Kat Slater is back in the competition. After a quick intro video to remind us who she is, Kat steps on-stage wearing very little to perform her rendition of The Show Must Go On. That’s such a clever song choice given the circumstances that I refuse to believe it’s deliberate. There’s no way the producers or Kelly Rowland or whoever gave Amelia that song was witty enough to be so meta. Considering that Kat barely had two days to pack her bags and leave Albert Square, learn the song and rehearse it, she does a pretty amazing job. It’s quite an uneven trade when you consider she’s replacing Frankie. Substituting Frankie with a wind-up drumming monkey toy would have been a sufficient exchange, but here we are being spoilt rotten with someone who might actually be able to sing. JUDGES! Are enthusiastic one and all because they’re hardly going to fucking well criticise the first person in the history of this contest to be voted IN to the show by the public, are they? Kelly explains how it tore her heart out to get rid of Kat and she’s so glad to have her back. Kat grins evilly and you know she’s totally going to get bullying advice from Misha B and make Kelly’s life hell.

Join me tomorrow when the producers decide to bring back The Risk with an all new lineup voted in by the public. Meanwhile, Amelia decides to burn down The Queen Vic and blame it on Kelly by leaving her weave at the scene of the crime.

The X-Factor: Week 5 - Performances and Results

IT’S TIME. TO DISGRACE. THE MUSIC. Well, actually, that time was last Saturday, but Frankie’s ejection from the show early on Tuesday afternoon actually rippled backwards in time and caused my body to enter a state of extended orgasm which left me completely incapacitated for several days, hence the lateness of this week’s recap. On with the show! We quickly cover last week’s events, by which I mean we spend several minutes before the title music even begins watching the highlights of last week’s episode. By highlights, I mean the parts that didn’t make you want to stab pencils into both your eyes and ears to make the hurting stop. By eyes and ears, I mean the sensory organs that you put under immense strain each week as you force them to attempt to make sense of this show.

Following the interminably interminable recap, Dermot arrives on-stage with another dance routine. I guess he set an X FACTOR PRECEDENT last week, and we all know those are legally binding. He reminds us of this week’s theme, club-classics, a “ballad-free zone”. Whatever will Biscuitman do? It’s also a double elimination, which means the act with the lowest number of votes will face instant ejection, shame and sorrow; while the other two-thirds of the bottom three compete in the sing-off. Also: Kelly Rowland is back and holding Tulisa’s hand again during their walk on-stage, so we can all pretend they don’t hate one another’s guts.

First up is Johnny Robinson, who points out in his VT that most people who win the X-Factor aren’t his age. They also don’t look like Skeletor in drag, Johnny. Johnny is the unfortunate victim of Louis Walsh’s medley machine this week, as he performs both Madonna’s Hung Up and Dead or Alive’s You Spin Me Right Round. In fairness to Louis though, he’s been rather restrained with the Medley Machine this year. Around this point in 2010, we’d already had Wagner’s unforgettable triple medley of Hippy Shake, Hey Jude and Get Back. I wonder what Wagner is doing right now. Something filthy, no doubt. Anyhow, this performance is slightly schizophrenic, as we switch between shrill, plate-shattering voiced Johnny for Hung Up, to Low Voice Masculine Johnny for Spin Me. Well, as masculine as Johnny gets, which is at about the same level of masculinity as having a manicure whilst being fisted by Dale Winton. JUDGES! Tulisa found it predictable; Kelly says she wanted to dance with him, and Gary Barlow has fallen into a coma due to the unbearable boredom of being Gary Barlow.

Next we have Wee Janet Devlin from Horrible Ireland. Wee Janet has taken control of everything this week, including her styling. This explains why she looks almost like a normal teenage girl rather than the ginger wraith haunting the moors that the evil fashion Nazis of the Style Team™ prefer to dress her as. She’s straightened her hair! She isn’t wearing black! Unfortunately, Wee Janet spent so much time on her styling that she forgot to learn the words to the song, and there are a couple of awkward silences in the performance where she shuffles about on-stage while the viewer fills in the missing words to the Jackson Five’s I Want You Back. You know, that song that literally everyone knows the words to. JUDGES! Louis loved it, because Janet is Irish. Tulisa backtracks on her desire to see Janet do something different and tells her to stick with what she knows. Stay in your box, Janet! Don’t you dare try and emerge from that niche the judges have decided you must occupy! Gary apes Tulisa. GET BACK IN THE BOX, JANET. BACK IN THE BOX AND PUT THE LID DAHN.

Biscuitman is up next, and his VT revolves around the difficulty he’s having in singing something that isn’t a ballad. Which is why he comes out and sings Heaven in the style of a ballad with up-tempo music. So long as Craig hits those glory notes and makes uncomfortable faces, the audience will lap it up. Also: there is dancing. Dancing Craig is a frightening sight. Combined with the scary snarling and off-putting faces, it just makes it seem even more likely that he’s going to emerge from the TV screen and kill me. I usually have at least two night terrors a week concerning Craig “The Killer” Colton. This performance is going to ensure I don’t get a good night’s sleep for a week. JUDGES! Louis loved it, Tulisa loved it, and random words fall out of Kelly Rowland’s mouth in a completely incomprehensible fashion.

Following that, we have The Nu Risk Vibe. The boys who are the members of the band this week got to meet JLS and asked them for advice on being a boyband. JLS responded by informing them that they might want to consider not changing members every time the audience blinks, for a start. A completely not-at-all staged part of the intro-video sees The Attractive One from JLS ask The Blacker of the Two Black Ones from The Risk if it’s true that he gave Nicole Scherzinger his phone number last week. Glad you asked, Attractive One from JLS! Because it is indeed true, and why, the cameras just happened to be around to record the very moment when it happened! Fancy that. Not recorded: the moment when Nicole reminds him that she’s only recently single, completely heartbroken over her split from Lewis Hamilton, and now wants to drive a dagger through her heart because of all the pain he’s dredged up for her. I hope he’s happy. The Risk are singing A Night to Remember this week. In a clever move, they’ve decided to juxtapose this song choice with a completely forgettable vocal performance. How meta. JUDGES! Louis says something completely stupid and inane while his brains just slide out of his ears on-screen. Kelly tells them they need to harmonise better. For once, she’s correct about something. Gary Barlow has ceased to exist due to the unbearable boredom of being Gary Barlow.

Next up is Marcus Collins, who I’ve decided is going to be this year’s winner. Well, either him or Biscuitman. Preferably Marcus, because he’s cute as a button and doesn’t make faces that give me nightmares. Marcus sings Reet Petite, which is one of those songs you totally know even if you don’t know the title of it. It’s pretty good, and at least the entire performance, with several dancers and a big 1950s vibe to it, has a lot of energy, unlike every other performance thus far for “Club Classics” night. Even Rebecca Ferguson managed a bit more energy last year than most of 2011’s contestants, and she was a fucking android. JUDGES! Louis is very enthusiastic about the talented, attractive young gay man, for some reason. He goes so far as to compare him to a Little Bruno Mars, a Little Jackie Wilson, a Little Everly Brothers and a Little Little Richard. Meanwhile, Paije Richardson sobs uncontrollably at home with only his memories to console him.

Goddess Kitty is next, and her intro-video is all about her creative streak. Included is a clip wherein she genuinely suggested approaching the song in a post-Apocalyptic manner. I love her. Also featured: Kitty suggests a performance inspired by Sister Act 2 (NOT THE FIRST ONE, NEVER THE FIRST ONE), using a zip-line to travel to the stage, or singing the song in the style of a Hellenic Goddess weeping for Greece’s financial ruin. Kitty is singing Madonna’s Like a Prayer tonight. Much as it pains me to be critical of Her Fierceness, it’s not Kitty’s best performance, and is a bit lifeless and dull. Though it says something about Kitty’s usual calibre that I find a performance involving explosions of glitter, dancers dressed as nuns and mid-song costume changes dull. JUDGES! Tulisa reckons Kitty is the only contestant who could hold people’s attention at a concert for 90 minutes. Kelly and Louis have a massive bitch-off where Louis does that thing where he gets all indignant and shouts over the other person and just comes off as a massive knob. Gary Barlow winks back into existence long enough to call Kitty a shitty dancer, before ceasing to exist again because he’s so fucking boring. 

Up next, teehee. It’s Frankie. Teehee. Teeheehee. Okay, so I wasn’t laughing when I first sat through this intro-video and performance. I actually wanted to tear my teeth out of my skull and jam them into my eyes to make the hurting stop. As ever, the intro-video is accompanied by the likes of Franz Ferdinand, Arctic Monkeys and  Vampire Weekend, just in case we forget how edgy and indie and credible Frankie is. That’s why he’s singing I Gotta Feeling, by the Black Eyed Peas. I guess having the most objectively awful contestant in the history of this show perform a song by the most objectively awful band in the history of music has a certain logical symmetry. Looking back, you’d never have thought this was going to be Frankie’s last performance on the X-Factor. Assuming that you ignore the fact that it’s exceptionally bad, even by his usual low standards, which are located somewhere below sea level. He falls about on-stage tunelessly talking through the song for 2 minutes of my life that I’m never going to get back. JUDGES! Louis Walsh completely lays into Frankie. “Gary has built you up into being this rock star. You’re not a rock star. You never will be a rock star.” It took eight years, people, eight long years, but Louis Walsh finally made a good point. Tulisa is confused because she was just getting used to rebellious Frankie and then he comes out and sings the Black Eyed Peas. BACK IN YOUR BOX, FRANKIE. Preferably one with no air holes. Kelly tries to take Louis to task for telling Frankie “what he’ll never be”, and they basically have another bitch-off where Louis comes off as a massive cunt but WHO CARES WHEN HE JUST DELIVERED A DEVASTATING ASSESSMENT TO FRANKIE. Kelly tells Frankie that he really needs to work on his vocal, as it’s the only thing that’s lacking. In this singing competition. Nothing gets past that Kelly Rowland. Gary chastises Louis and the audience for booing the disgusting human slagheap that is Frankie.  

From the ridiculous to the sublime, it’s Misha B! Misha’s VT is basically The Rehabilitation of Ms Misha B (Part 2) because it obviously didn’t work last week. So this week we’re treated to Humble Misha! Fun-loving Misha! Hard-working Misha! Essentially-an-Orphan-Misha Being Visited By Extended Family Misha! At no point do we see her bullying anyone, so we can safely conclude that Misha B is definitely not a bully and we should all vote for her so she can win instead of Craig Colton. Oh, they’ve decided to give Misha the week off and have a clone of a young Tina Turner perform Proud Mary instead. Wait, silly me, it’s just Misha being awesome again this week with an amazing ‘fro to boot. Is there any hairstyle she can’t pull off? JUDGES! Louis Walsh surprises us all by announcing that he loves Tina Turner and he loved that performance. Tulisa loves the toned-down Misha. Toned down in this case means sporting an afro with a radius of 5-feet rather than a rhino-horn or crown made from newspapers on her head. Gary says something but Misha bullies him back into non-existence because she hates boring people. And interesting people. And everyone else. Misha B will fuck you up.

Closing the show is Little Kandy Girl-Lash. Tulisa introduces them by reminding us that they’re at the vanguard of fourth-wave feminism and have endorsements from Germaine Greer, bell hooks, Judith Butler and Catherine Mackinnon. Continuing from last week’s attempt to allow the audience to get to know the girls as individuals, we find out which part of the country each of them is from, and a little bit about their childhood. There’s Pick ‘n’ Mix, who lived in Essex until she was forced to leave by a famine that mysteriously ended when she left to take part in the show. Then there’s Mixed Race, who’s from High Wycombe and discovered she could sing when an intruder broke into her home and threatened to kill her family unless she touched him. And she did. MUSICALLY. Then there’s Mixed Up, from South Shields, who used to sing at old people’s homes until they took out a restraining order against her. Finally, there’s Myxomatosis, who’s also from South Shields and used to sing for coins in the laundrette which she melted down to make genital piercings with. See, aren’t they lovely girls? Don’t you want to vote for them? If you don’t then you’re an anti-woman misogynist, you patriarchal pig. Little Kandy Girl-Lash sing Rihanna’s Please Don’t Stop the Music. They’ve decided to take a unique approach to the song, by choosing to perform it completely out of tune. I have to give it to Pick ‘n’ Mix though, when it comes to the dance moves she really gives it socks. What with the light-up costumes they’re wearing, and the neon lighting on-stage, it’s like watching an epileptic elephant. JUDGES! Louis loves everything about them, Kelly really believes in them but wants to be slain by them a capella and Tulisa reminds us all of their feminist credentials for the fiftieth time.

RESULTS SHOW

For this week’s horrendous group song, our darlings decided to murder Jessie J’s Price Tag. That’s not so bad though, because that song is fucking shit anyway. This was followed with a performance from JLS, who were completely overshadowed by Florence and the Machine being amazing immediately after them. Then Dermot reveals the results: Little Kandy Girl-Lash are through. Hooray for neon elephants! Marcus is safe, as is Misha B, which means that a huge spike in the number of young people suffering Chinese burns and kidney-punches has been averted for another week. Craig is safe, as is Frankie. And Wee Janet.

This is the part where I would rant for an entire paragraph about the fact that Frankie was safe, but the fuckwit has now been expelled from the show so I need do nothing but revel in my joy. *revels*

Okay, I’m done revelling. The bottom three are The Risk, Goddess Kitty and Johnny. Goddess Kitty is going to make the world regret wronging her this way. The Risk are immediately ejected for having the lowest number of votes, and Tulisa is genuinely shocked and appalled. That’s exactly how I felt when Frankie survived. There’s a montage of The Risk’s time on the show, which actually amounts to a highlight reel of the eighty different singers combined in dozens of configurations who were at one point or another all members of The Risk. I think all of us were members of The Risk at some point.

Sing-off time! Johnny performs Unchained Melody in his gender-bendingly confusing style, which means that he sings it surprisingly well, albeit in tones you’d expect to come from a 47 year old lounge singer named Denise rather than a bloke. Kitty sings Kelly Clarkson’s Beautiful Disaster and also sings it well. Dermot goes to Louis first for his verdict, and Louis picks Kitty as he thinks she’d sell more records in “the real world”. As opposed to that imaginary world where Louis thought contestants like Johnny and Goldie Cheung might sell records when he picked them. Tulisa picks Kitty for similar reasons, and because Kitty would actually decimate the population of the British Isles and perhaps even all of continental Europe if she was ejected. Kelly Rowland reminds the public to put their hats on when voting. This is because she’s from Georgia, where people vote by wearing hats with the name of their preferred candidate or amendment result, and then partake in a dance-off with the opposing sides. It’s a good thing that a majority vote was reached, as Gary Barlow continues to not exist due to being exceedingly dull. Johnny says his farewells and Louis starts crying because being reminded that middle-aged gay men of questionable talent have a limited shelf-life makes him emotional.

Next Week: The fallout from Cocozza-Cocaine-a-palooza! Don’t miss it, because it’s going to be amazing to see how they spin it.