I’ve given up being astonished that there are still enough freaks in Britain to fill the audition episodes of The X Factor.After the first series, I presumed that we’d used them all up. I couldn’t see how we could possibly have any left over for a second series.
Citing the barroom scene in Star Wars as a descriptor for a motley crew of individuals is a rather tired device. But in the case of The X Factor,this is mainly because, in 1977, George Lucas just didn’t have the kind of prosthetics budget that might accurately recreate a real X Factor audition room.
The people who turn up to these things look like they reanimate at night, from the sides of churches.
Brothers from Sunderland with sebum-soaked hair, matching satin jackets and My Heart Will Go On acting as Jack the Ripper to the unfortunate prostitutes of timing, pitch and appropriateness.