Britain's Got Talent, first semi-finals, review: a two-hour slog lacking in wow factor
“Strike up the band, hit the lights, we’re back on Saturday nights,” went co-hosts Ant and Dec’s swinging, Rat Pack-style song to herald the return of Britain’s Got Talent (ITV) for its socially distanced semi-finals. Sadly, like everyone’s jazz-hands, it was a tad too sanitised.
The variety contest’s audition phase – always the most compelling part – aired this spring. After a pandemic-enforced delay, it was belatedly back to business. Trouble was, after four months off-air, we’d forgotten who most of the hopefuls were. Sob stories had faded from memory. Any emotional investment had evaporated.
Behind the judges’ desk, Ashley Banjo (who won the 2009 series with his streetdance troupe Diversity) deputised for Simon Cowell, still recovering from a broken back after falling off his electric bike. (It’s hard to imagine many less dignified injuries for a 60-year-old.) In Cowell’s absence, Amanda Holden was designated as head judge – much to her delight and David Walliams’s hammed-up chagrin.
Banjo impressed as a stand-in and even more so when he nipped up on-stage for a guest performance with Diversity. Their viscerally emotive routine portraying the year’s events, from the pandemic to the death of George Floyd and the Black Lives Matter protests, was a powerful interlude.
Many acts wilted under pressure or found their limitations exposed, however. Fancy-dressed dance troupe Urban Turtles were more suited to a children’s party than prime-time TV. Climate change choir SOS From the Kids were an exercise in bland, Boden-catalogue wokeness.
The judges unanimously elected to send juggling comedian Steve Royle straight through to the grand final. His slapstick set was game, goofy and winningly old-fashioned. The rest now face the public vote to decide who joins him. This looks to be a straight shootout between 13-year-old teen singer Fayth Ifil and father-and-son magic duo James and Dylan Piper, whose family-themed trickery was soppy but spellbinding.
There were too many ad breaks, as ever. The “virtual audience” was essentially a supersized Zoom call projected onto a wall. Ant and Dec did their best with some slick, sparky links but this was a two-hour slog lacking in wow factor and, perhaps understandably, atmosphere.