Have Saturday evenings really come to this? Your Face Sounds Familiar featured six celebrities (and I use the term advisedly in some cases...) who not only had to sound like a certain singer, but look like them too – to the extent that prosthetics were used... apparently.
The premise was that each celeb would be randomly allocated a particular artiste and then the transformation would get underway...
As for sounding like the singer in question, Bobby Davro certainly did a passable impression of Tom Jones – then again, I suppose he’s made a career out of doing passable impressions. Sadly the make-up department went a little too far with the fake tan and Davro looked more like the back of a Robertson’s jam jar than the Welsh crooner.
For me, Denise Lewis (above) was the best performer on the night. She looked like Tina Turner, moved like Tina Turner and even though she didn’t have her voice, the former Olympic heptathlon gold medallist could certainly belt out a tune.
There was some bizarre judging though: Alexander Armstrong as Johnny Cash was seemingly marked down for not dancing about the stage – even though Johnny Cash was hardly noted for busting too many moves during his career. Yet Cheryl Fergison was complimented on her arm-waving skills even though the rest of her remained essentially static during her rendition of Dusty Springfield’s “You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me”.
In fairness, she did sing the song well, but it didn’t sound anything like the erstwhile Mary O’Brien. As for looking like her...
Well that aspect of the show was clearly ignored as Ms Fergison scored top marks from the judges. I’m not being funny but when she waited to see her potential choice of singers, I was fully expecting final decision to be a close-run thing between Mama Cass Elliott and Demis Roussos– but seriously, Dusty Springfield?!
Shows how little I know.
All I can say is that I won’t be watching next week – or the week after – and if there’s no other choice on the one hundred and twenty-seven other channels I can watch, then I’ll just have to bring wine o’clock forward an hour or two.
Actually I’m now really hoping the telly’s crap...
All my own work... almost.