Ah, the roar of the greasepaint, the smell of the crowd!
The allure of the theatre tempts us all, does it not? Alas, in these benighted times we must live our dreams of dramaturgical glory vicariously. In an anonymous compound somewhere in London a set of soundproofed mini-studios, full of potential employees for potential performers, shall provide.
All of human life is here in ITV’s new reality show, The Big Audition. It follows people as they gather to – yes! – audition for entertainment jobs of all kinds, from stunt doubles to panto roles to West End leads and all points in between.
The opening episode focused on the applicants/supplicants for jobs as a shopping-channel presenter of fitness equipment, a Hampton Court Palace Henry VIII tour guide (wives not included) and for a dog modelling contract (that’s to front a pet magazine campaign, not for someone to make models of dogs – though God knows what’s going on further down the corridor).
First up for fitness presenting is Barry Titler, an ebullient window cleaner from Wigan for whom to think is to speak, and the possibility that we are watching the ghost of Victoria Wood hardens to near certainty as soon as he stands on the first piece of equipment and starts his audition. “I call this the leg fettler!” he cries, and the judges grin. Next is a vibrating exercise stool – “You can eat cake and custard on it! I’ve tried!” – and the judges keep grinning. Finally, the exercise bike. “I’d rather,” shouts Barry enthusiastically, “have a proper bike!” The judges stop grinning.
The competition narrows to Linda, a plump 50-year-old divorcee with the common touch (“If I can use this, anyone can!”) whose laughter fills a room and whose sheer warmth and irrepressible joy wrap themselves instantly around the hearts of everyone watching, and Olympic bobsledder Toby Olubi who is superbly personable, totally on top of the sports science and stats, and also very fit. They get a job each! O frabjous day – callooh, callay!
Meanwhile, various lusty lads are giving us their Henry VIIIs. One’s good, one’s bad, one’s mad and one is much the best and wins. “Henry in Henry’s house!” he says, glowing like a man who has just discovered French practices with Anne Boleyn. “Amazing!”
Then there are the dogs, all beloved by their owners in very different ways. One is Queenie Woof-Woof, buried in mounds of designer clothes within a designer stroller; one is Cyril, the self-stated child substitute of a gay couple; one is Archie, a straightforward best friend; and one is Daisy, a rescue dog formerly used as bait in fights who has clearly, as her devoted owner says “rescued me as well”. Cyril gets the nod but Daisy, in all her scarred beauty, is to get a feature all to herself. “Lovely, isn’t it?” says her owner, suffused with love and pride. “I’ll be able to go into a newsagent and see her looking at me!”
I’m not crying, YOU’RE crying.
The Big Audition could be a screaming agony-watch, and there’s every chance that it will devolve into one if and when further series are commissioned, and even more chance than its imitators will descend yet quicker into a mire of cruelty and sneering. But for now, it’s sweet, charming and dispenses justice with a fine hand. What more could you ask for on a Friday night?
