Britain’s Got Talent: The Final, review: Sydnie Christmas is a predictable winner - but at least she’s British
Well, at least a British act won it. The grand final of Britain’s Got Talent (ITV1) turned out to be a foregone conclusion. Bookies’ odds-on favourite Sydnie Christmas blew the roof off Hammersmith Apollo with her soaring rendition of Somewhere Over The Rainbow and duly romped to victory. This might have been a sunny summer’s day but it was also a happy Christmas.
The variety contest’s title has increasingly become a misnomer. Complaints about the proliferation of foreign acts reached fever pitch as this week’s live semi-finals were dominated by performers from overseas. Five of the nine Golden Buzzer acts were non-British. Due to the lack of UK talent, viewers threatened to call regulator Ofcom and report a violation of the Trade Descriptions Act.
The judges didn’t seem to notice, but viewers definitely did. The public vote corrected the imbalance by eliminating most of them. Just four foreign acts made it through to this showpiece occasion. Arguably still too many, considering there were none at all for the first six series, but it felt fairer. Only one made the top three, with Ghanaian dance duo Abigail & Afronita claiming the bronze medal.
Now in its 17th year, the talent search needs to rethink how it scouts potential entrants. Plundering acts from the franchise’s foreign editions has become far too blatant. Sure, the occasional guest act livens up proceedings and raises the overall standard. Import too many and, despite all those Union Jack graphics, it loses its distinctively British flavour, becoming more of a global showcase. The series should either change its title to The World’s Got Talent or get better at unearthing home-grown hopefuls.
Even a winner from Kent is unlikely to silence critics. The 28-year-old has been hit by fix claims, having already starred in West End shows such as Grease and Starlight Express. Social media smelt a rat when Christmas was scheduled last in the running order, shortly before phonelines opened. It was almost like producers wanted her to win. Simon Cowell went out of his way to stress that none of this year’s finalists were professionals, which merely opened the can of worms again.
With her impressive vocal range and masterful control, Christmas’ career in stage musicals looks assured. Cowell clearly has pound signs in his eyes. With Sydnie’s surname, a festive album is a no-brainer. She succeeds reigning champion Viggo Venn in scooping the ￡250,000 cash prize and a coveted spot at the Royal Variety Performance. King Charles and Queen Camilla might well appreciate her more than a wild-haired Norwegian in a hi-vis vest.
She was run closest by dry-witted Cumbrian conjuror Jack Rhodes. The deadpan magician did some sleight-of-hand with Amanda Holden’s jewellery and a lie-detecting hat. Holden took the opportunity to ask head honcho Cowell to renew her contract and give her a payrise. He agreed but was notably less forthcoming when it came to the other two judges, Alesha Dixon and Bruno Tonioli. It could be awkward in the green room afterwards.
Christmas’ victory might have been unsurprising but it broke the mould. Mystifyingly, a woman hasn’t won this contest for nine years. Indeed, a woman has never triumphed without a dancing dog at her side. True to form, tonight’s 10 qualifiers were joined by the judges’ wildcard pick: The TrickStars, aka Lucy Heath and her prancing pooches. Many viewers were incensed that blind opera duo Denise & Stefan were overlooked in favour of choreographic canines again. A barking mad decision. TrickStars also plumped for a Greatest Showman-themed routine, which has become a thundering BGT cliché. Never enough? On the contrary.
Bookmaker’s second favourite, neurodiverse comedian Alex Mitchell, was visibly nervous and delivered his weakest routine when it mattered most - a fact he acknowledged after his set. He finished a disappointing eighth. Giving a shout-out to rugby league star-turned-motor neurone disease campaigner Rob Burrow, whose death was announced shortly before the show, was a lovely touch at least.
Likeable illusionist Trixy played an overlong card trick which was a tad too easy to work out. To make matters worse, he made Z-list pop star Peter Andre magically appear. If he’d made reality TV fixture Andre vanish from our screens instead, he might have earned more votes. Singing impressionist Mike Woodhams, a doppelg?nger of Mr Poppy from Nativity, ran through a jukebox of vocal impersonations which were more miss than hit.
Behind the judgely table, it was business as usual. Holden wore her now-traditional revealing frock. Cowell unconvincingly insisted this was the best final ever. Dixon whooped a lot. Tonioli waved his arms around flamboyantly. Since it was the final, the panel was in gushing praise mode, which soon became monotonous. Honest critiques were missed, as were those red buzzers.
A patience-testing, frequently tedious two-and-a-half-hour finale took in eight commercial breaks, incessant plugs and copious recaps. While we waited for ITV to milk the call charges, we were treated to guest turns from the casts of A Chorus Line and Mamma Mia! Presumably all the famous people were washing their hair.
After two months of auditions and five nights of live semi-finals, this was a bloated climax with a deeply predictable outcome. A serious revamp is needed. Genuine amateurs and actual Britons wouldn’t be a bad place to start.
