SKIMMING through the latest interviews with Simon Cowell – the ones for which he took time out of his gruelling schedule to kindly remind us that the new series of Britain’s Got Talent is only months away, just in case we were stupidly planning to go on holiday, or something – you could be forgiven for thinking at first that he’d learnt a few things.
He talks in comparatively humble terms (by Cowell standards, I mean – don’t let’s get carried away). He suggests he’d become too cocky, recognises that his shows need a boot up the backside etc. All in all, I’m reasonably impressed.
And then he goes and spoils it all by saying something stupid like “space mission”.
Yep, a trip on board Richard Branson’s inaugural Virgin Galactic flight (Branson’s lot are sponsoring this latest Britain’s Got Talent series) is something Simon says he hopes to offer the next winner – or possibly the one after that, it’s still kind of vague – as an added reward, on top of the increased prize money and the traditional embarrassing spot at the Royal Variety do.
“I’m being serious,” he assured reporters at the launch. “You could be the first singer, or dog act, whatever, performing in space.”
As it happens, you actually couldn’t. A full 40 years ago, a couple of long forgotten Apollo astronauts broke into an impromptu duet (“I was strolling on the moon one day / in the merry, merry month of May…”) while bouncing across the lunar surface, while the Russians blasted a canine cosmonaut called Laika into space as long ago as 1957, although admittedly she didn’t dance around a broom to Lady Gaga. Or survive, for that matter.
But that’s not my point. My point is, even if Simon can genuinely deliver on this promise of his (and a cynic might suggest it’s more a case of getting the show’s sponsors some nice publicity, and to hell with the actual viability), he’s totally misjudged how it could benefit the programme itself.
He’s selling it as an exciting bonus for the next BGT champion, should they happen to want it. “It can’t be compulsory,” he adds. Whereas what he should be doing is recognising it for what it would actually amount to – a wretched, miserable, gut-churningly uncomfortable, zero-gravity experience, likely to leave you feeling violently ill – and then insisting that it will be compulsory.
Because otherwise this programme is all too easy, isn’t it? You show up at an audition, sing or dance sufficiently impressively to get through the live shows and, hey presto, before you know it you’re several hundred grand the richer and doing a three-minute turn for Princess Anne, or whichever poor royal happens to have drawn that year’s short straw.
Whereas if Simon were to warn, from day one, that the eventual winner will have to suffer the misery of a compulsory space flight, this would immediately sort a lot of the wheat from the chaff, act-wise, would it not? It would be the perfect way to discourage the time-wasters, attention-seekers and blatant fruitcakes. It would be the modern-day equivalent of that famous old line from Fame: “You want fame? Well, fame costs. And right here is where you start paying – in sweat!”
Here it would effectively be: “You want fame? Well, fine, have it. Plus some money and the ropey royal gig. But be warned, we’re also going to catapult you to the outer reaches of the solar system, where there’s every chance you’ll be captured by hostile creatures made of jelly and twigs and subjected to gruesome medical experimentation.
All that, plus Richard Branson and Simon Cowell will be on board with you. So think on…”
Still, as I say, I suspect the whole thing may be rather less viable than Simon is suggesting, particularly if the contest ends up being won by another of those shockingly overstaffed dance troupes.
Simon has actually hinted, mind you, that this is unlikely to be the case. Admitting that he’ll have to consider the practical details of the winning act performing in space, he quipped: “If you’re a juggler, then we’ll need to make heavier balls.”
So there, in a single semi-throwaway sentence, we have the chilling remark that puts this whole thing into context. Amid all the talk of space travel, bigger-than-ever prize money and an exciting new-look panel – to which Simon returns, alongside Amanda Holden, David Walliams and Alesha Dixon (lured away from Strictly, remember, at vast expense), we’re actually talking about the show being won by . . . a juggler.
Great. And after that? Probably some bloke who makes balloon dachshunds.
I bet the BBC are quaking in their boots.
* Read Mike every day in the Daily Star and every weekend in the Daily Express Saturday magazine.
Yeah, pity I went on Britains Got Talent WITH my dog called Laika, named after the first dog in space, with the intention of singing my song about her
and was told after various pre-auditions with my song, just as I was getting onto the stage on front of an audience, that I could not sing original material. This song would have been very suitable, don’t you think? Also, it would mean I might have gotten a record contract and not be still broke (which is the reason I went on the show). Oh, and Simon Cowell will send someone to space, he is getting it for free, as Virgin has just bought shares in ITV.